Let's reach 250 Power Stones for an extra chapter
***
The yellow school bus rattles down the street, a symphony of teenage chatter and nervous anticipation filling the air. It's the day of our field trip to Oscorp, and everyone is buzzing with excitent. Everyone except , it seems. I glance around, scanning the faces, but Ethan's usual smirk is nowhere to be seen. His seat remains empty, a stark reminder of his continued absence.
I pull out my phone, sighing, and text Ethan again. 'Hey, where are you? We're on the bus to Oscorp. Don't miss out!'
No response. Again.
"He still not answering?"
I look up to see Peter leaning over from the seat next to , his brow furrowed with concern. "Nope," I say, shaking my head. "I don't know where he is or why he's missing this."
Peter's always been a good friend. He always has his head in the clouds, probably imagining himself working in a lab soday.
"Maybe he's sick?"
"Maybe,"
I try not to let it bother , but a nagging worry tugs at the back of my mind. Ever since that incident with the Abomination, Ethan's been acting even stranger than usual. More secretive, more distant. It's like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
The bus lurches to a stop, and the driver announces, "Alright, Midtown High, we're here!"
I shove my phone into my pocket and try to shake off my unease. No use dwelling on Ethan's absence. I need to focus on the present, on Oscorp, and on trying to have a good ti, even without him.
The bus doors swing open, and we all spill out onto the sidewalk, craning our necks to take in the sight before us. Oscorp Tower looms above us, a sleek and imposing structure of steel and glass that seems to pierce the clouds. It's a monunt to innovation, a symbol of cutting-edge technology, and, of course, Harry's dad's ego.
The Oscorp lobby is a massive space, easily the size of our school gymnasium. Gleaming white floors stretch out before us, reflecting the light from the massive windows that surround us. Interactive displays showcasing Oscorp's latest technological advancents line the walls, drawing the attention of most of the students.
A perky woman with a bright smile plastered on her face approaches us. Her Oscorp badge reads, "Tour Guide - Sarah."
"Welco to Oscorp!" she chirps, her voice almost too enthusiastic. "I'm Sarah, and I'll be your guide for today's tour. We're so excited to have you here and show you all the incredible things we're working on."
We all murmur greetings as she herds us toward one of the displays. As we walk through the lobby, a commanding voice cuts through the noise. I turn and see Norman Osborn himself standing nearby, his eyes scanning the crowd. He is dressed in an immaculate suit, every hair perfectly in place.
His gaze sweeps over us, pausing montarily on Flash Thompson, who puffs out his chest and grins. But then, Mr. Osborn's eyes land on Peter, who is staring at a science exhibit with an open-mouthed expression. A flicker of sothing softens Mr. Osborn's stern face, and he approaches Peter.
"Peter Parker? Is that you? It has been so long."
Peter, startled, looks up, his eyes widening in surprise. "Mr. Osborn! Good to see you. Yes, it's ."
Norman steps closer, his focus solely on Peter. It's as if Harry and the rest of us have ceased to exist. "Last ti I saw you, you were helping Harry on his trigonotry." He gestures to Harry, who looks increasingly uncomfortable, his face tight with suppressed emotion. "What a bright young man, always willing to help others. I'm glad to see that you're doing well."
"Thank you, Mr. Osborn," Peter replies, his cheeks flushing with a mix of nervousness and excitent. "I've always admired your work at Oscorp."
Norman beams, his eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm, again seemingly ignoring Harry. "Perhaps one day you'll be working here, Peter, making real breakthroughs. We could certainly use soone with your mind."
He then launches into a series of questions about Peter's latest academic project, listening intently and praising his insights with an enthusiasm that feels almost… paternal. He was a genius.
Harry, who has been standing awkwardly to the side, shifts impatiently. "Dad," he says, his voice tinged with annoyance, "can we get back to the tour? The students are waiting."
Mr. Osborn turns to Harry, his expression hardening. "See to it, Harry. Make sure our guests enjoy the tour and see what Oscorp is all about." His tone is curt, dismissive. Then he turns back to Peter and gives the boy a wink. "Perhaps one day you'll be working here, Peter, making real breakthroughs. We could certainly use soone with your mind."
Norman gives Peter a final, warm smile, then turns and strides away, disappearing back into the labyrinthine depths of Oscorp.
I'm so saddened by how Harry was treated, I think to myself. I could always sense Harry's need for his father's approval. It just seed like Harry wasn't what his dad wanted.
The tour guide, Sarah, leads us into a long corridor, eventually stopping in front of a set of heavy steel doors. "And now," she announces with a flourish, "we're going to enter one of our genetics labs, where our scientists are working on so truly groundbreaking research."
The doors slide open, revealing a vast, sterile space filled with gleaming equipnt and bubbling beakers. The air hums with the sound of machinery.
"Wow," Flash Thompson says, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. "This is intense."
I have to admit, even I'm impressed, though it's hard to be surprised by science when your friend is hanging out with aliens every day.
Sarah begins her spiel, rattling off facts and figures about genetic engineering and DNA sequencing. Most of it I already know, thanks to my own research and, honestly, just hanging around with Ethan. I find myself pointing out various instrunts and details, even correcting Sarah on a few points.
"Actually, that's a next-generation centrifuge," I say, gesturing to a machine. "It can handle significantly higher speeds than the model you ntioned."
Sarah blinks, clearly thrown off. "Oh," she says, flustered. "Well, yes, you're right. Very observant!"
We reach a section with several contained cages, each holding various species of genetically altered spiders.
"And here we have so of our most fascinating subjects," Sarah says, regaining her composure. "Genetically modified spiders, engineered to possess unique abilities."
MJ raises her hand. "Hey, wait a minute! Wasn't there supposed to be fifteen of these spider thingies? There's only fourteen!"
Sarah glances at the cages, her brow furrowing. "Oh, I don't know. It is probably in one of the machines."
Peter, who has been quiet and subdued since his encounter with Mr. Osborn, leans in for a closer look, his eyes wide with fascination but also with a hint of nervousness.
Suddenly, he flinches, slapping at the back of his neck. "Peter! Are you okay?" I ask, my voice filled with concern.
"Y-Yeah," he stamrs, scratching his neck. "I just felt sothing bite . It's nothing."
I frown, studying his face. He looks pale and there is a bead of sweat running down his temple. "Are you sure? You don't look so good."
"I'm fine, Gwen," he insists, trying to shrug it off. "Just a little tired, I guess."
But his steps are uneasy as we continue the tour, and he stumbles a few tis. Sothing is definitely wrong. I get a little worried.
We've only walked a few feet when Peter suddenly collapses, falling to the floor unconscious.
"Peter!" I yell, dropping to my knees beside him. "Peter! Soone call an ambulance!"
***
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