Rebirth: MarveL Marvel's InvincibleSpider-MAn

Chapter 11: Serum and Spider

After deciding to attempt the impossible, Alex's life for the next week became a precise triple concerto: student, Web-Weaver, and Norman Osborn's potential collaborator.

Every day, he balanced on the edge of collapse that maintaining these three identities threatened.

During Monday's chemistry class, while Mr. Rodriguez lectured on the stability of organic compounds, Alex's mind drifted to the molecular structure of the Goblin Serum. Based on the data he'd collected and his past-life memories, the serum's core problem was its imbalance—it was like a sports car without brakes, accelerating madly until the engine exploded.

"Mr. Miller," Mr. Rodriguez's voice pulled him back to reality, "can you tell us what gives cyclohexane its stability?"

Alex stood up, answering almost without thinking. "The sp³ hybridized orbitals of the carbon atoms form bond angles close to 109.5 degrees, allowing cyclohexane to adopt the lowest-energy chair conformation, minimizing repulsion between hydrogen atoms."

The teacher nodded, but his eyes held a hint of scrutiny. "Perfectly correct. But you seem... distracted."

"Sorry, sir. Didn't sleep well last night."

That was true. The previous night, the Web-Weaver had stopped three muggings and saved a child from an out-of-control truck. After each intervention, he'd collected a small sample of his own blood—part of a crazy plan.

After school on Tuesday, Alex studied with Peter and Harry in the library. Harry's condition was noticeably worse, with deep shadows under his eyes, his fingers constantly spinning a pen.

"You okay?" Peter asked with concern.

"Father... he was in the lab all night," Harry whispered, glancing around to ensure no one was listening. "I went to find him last night and heard him talking to himself. No, arguing with someone—but he was alone in the room."

Alex's heart sank. The serum-induced schizophrenia was worsening; Norman's personality was already fracturing.

"What did he say?" Alex tried to keep his voice calm.

Harry hesitated. "About 'purging the weak parts,' about 'the cost of becoming perfect.' Then he suddenly turned to me, as if just realizing I was there. His eyes..." Harry shuddered. "...weren't his own."

Peter looked worriedly at his friend. "Harry, maybe you should stay away from home for a few days. Come stay with us?"

"And let him know I'm afraid of him?" Harry gave a bitter smile. "That would only make him more... obsessed. He thinks weakness is a defect to be eliminated."

Alex's Spider-Sense tingled faintly. Not a warning of immediate danger, but a connection point—Harry's words, his collected data, Norman's mental state were all pointing to one brutal conclusion: Norman Osborn was running out of time.

"I need to get into your father's private lab," Alex said suddenly.

Both Harry and Peter froze.

"What?" Harry's voice was almost inaudible.

"Not as a visitor. I need to see the real raw data, the serum formula, the experiment logs." Alex lowered his voice. "If your father is really... losing control, we need evidence, we need to understand what he's actually created to stop him."

"Stop him?" Harry's expression was complicated. "You mean call the police?"

"I mean help him," Alex met Harry's gaze. "If there's a way to reverse the serum's effects, to cure him instead of destroying him, would you be willing to try?"

Hope flashed in Harry's eyes, quickly replaced by fear. "If he finds out..."

"He won't," Alex said. "But I need your help."

A long silence followed. Peter looked at Alex, then at Harry, finally speaking. "Alex, this is too dangerous. Norman Osborn isn't a normal scientist. If he's really like Harry says..."

"I know the risks," Alex interrupted. "But imagine the consequences if the serum spirals out of control. Did your father's research notes ever mention Richard Parker's objections? Why did he quit?"

Harry took a deep breath. "There's a safe in my father's study. I saw him open it when I was little. It has old research notes. Uncle Richard's name came up a lot." He paused. "But I don't know the combination."

"Fingerprint? Retina scan?"

"Both. And voiceprint verification." Harry shook his head. "Nearly impossible to bypass."

Alex thought. The Web-Weaver's abilities might offer some advantages—he could scale the exterior to Norman's office, but biometric systems couldn't be fooled. Unless...

"What if we don't need to open the safe?" he said suddenly. "What if we just need to... touch it?"

Peter frowned. "What do you mean?"

Alex didn't explain immediately. An idea was forming, based on an ability from the spider bite he hadn't fully tested yet.

Wednesday night, the Web-Weaver conducted an experiment with a new ability.

In the safehouse, Alex faced a smooth pane of glass, concentrating. This wasn't about strength or speed, but about the bio-static electricity his body generated—the same principle that let him cling to walls.

He slowly brought his palm close to the glass, not to adhere, but to try and feel the electromagnetic field on the other side of the material. At first, nothing, just the cool touch of glass. But when he focused intensely, summoning that sixth sense that had once let him perceive hidden danger, the impression began to change.

Not true sight, but a kind of 'impression'—the outline of objects behind the glass, the coldness of metal, the warmth of plastic. Like 'seeing' through touch.

"Bio-electrostatic perception," he murmured to himself, withdrawing his hand. The ability was unstable, range-limited, but if the safe wasn't too thick, maybe he could sense its contents without opening it.

The more practical problem: How to get Norman away from the lab long enough?

The answer came unexpectedly on Thursday morning.

Harry sent an encrypted message: "Father is going to D.C. tonight. Pentagon meeting. 7 PM to midnight, only skeleton crew in the lab."

The opportunity had come. But Alex needed more—he needed the serum sample itself, not just data.

"Can you access the lab's sample storage?" he replied.

After a long pause, Harry answered: "Active samples are in Cold Storage B. I have Level-2 access, but need Level-1 authorization from Father or the lead researcher to retrieve anything. And all retrievals are logged."

So, not through normal channels. Another way was needed.

That afternoon, Alex left school early under the excuse of "library research," actually heading to the medical library at Columbia University. There, he looked up all literature on neuroactive compounds, gene therapy side effects, and the biochemical basis of schizophrenia.

The key finding: The Goblin Serum likely acted on the brain's dopamine and serotonin systems, causing manic and schizophrenic-like symptoms. But more dangerously, it seemed to also rewrite fundamental gene expression—the source of those 'enhanced muscle tissue.'

Reversing such changes was nearly impossible. But 'nearly' wasn't 'completely.'

Another finding came from a paper on spider venom: venoms of some spiders contained neuropeptides that could temporarily reshape neural connections. If the Arach-9 spider's venom was part of the serum, then perhaps the same spider—or Alex himself, changed by that spider—might hold the key to an antidote.

He needed that spider, or at least a sample of its venom.

But according to Oscorp records, Arach-9 had never been found after the escape incident. It might be dead, or still somewhere in the city.

Unless... Alex suddenly considered a possibility. Norman Osborn wouldn't rely on just one spider. He must have kept venom samples, maybe even cloned the spider.

That night, the Web-Weaver's plan to infiltrate Oscorp Tower began to take shape.

Friday, 7:30 PM. Alex, as the Web-Weaver, stood in the shadows of a building opposite Oscorp Tower.

His gear had been upgraded by Lily: the suit now had a lining with small electromagnetic pulse devices to disrupt surveillance cameras (limited but useful), the mask's visual modes added thermal imaging and night vision, and the glove fingertips were embedded with micro chemical sensors to detect specific compounds in the air.

More importantly, he carried two special containers: one for storing serum samples, another for storing his own blood—the craziest part of the plan.

The security shift schedule Harry provided showed that after Norman's departure, only two technicians would be in Lab B, patrolling every two hours. The ventilation system's cleaning cycle was at 9 PM, during which some security cameras would be temporarily shut down for maintenance.

Alex waited until 8:45 PM, then moved.

He leapt from the rooftop, his bio-webbing carrying him in an arc towards the mid-levels of Oscorp Tower. His target was a maintenance hatch entrance outside Norman's office—a weak point marked on the building schematics Harry provided.

Adhering to the glass curtain wall, Alex used a small laser cutter (assembled by Lily from parts ordered online) to cut a palm-sized hole in the reinforced glass. No alarm triggered—he'd avoided the wires. Reaching inside, he unlocked the window from within and slid into the dark office.

Norman Osborn's office was as full of contradictions as the man himself. One wall was bookshelves, crammed with scientific classics and philosophy; the other was display screens showing Oscorp's global operations in real-time. The desk was obsessively neat, holding only a computer, a photo frame (Norman with a young Harry), and a strange metal sculpture—a twisted double helix.

Alex wasted no time. His bio-electrostatic perception activated, scanning the room. The safe was embedded behind artwork on the east wall, but he didn't need to open it. He needed the lab entrance.

The private elevator in the office required Norman's biometrics. But according to Harry's intel, there was an emergency route: a hidden door behind the bookshelf led to a stairwell, providing direct access to the lab level, bypassing the main checkpoints.

Alex found the mechanism—a heavy copy of On the Origin of Species needed to be pulled. The bookshelf slid open silently, revealing a metal staircase. He descended without a sound.

The corridor of Lab B was more sinister than during his tour. Blue-white emergency lighting cast long shadows, the distant hum of machinery echoing. His chemical sensors immediately picked up the target compounds: methamphetamine analogues, monoamine oxidase inhibitors, and... something new. Sweet, almost like rotting fruit.

Was the serum degrading? Or was it a new formula?

Alex avoided the main monitored corridor, entering the sample storage room via a ventilation duct. The room was temperature-controlled, walls lined with refrigeration units. Each was labeled: Serum A-1 through A-12, B-1 through B-7, C-series...

He found B-7—the version Norman mentioned, the one that caused the subject's rampage in the video. But Alex needed something more primal, the serum's base formula.

Deep in the room, a standalone refrigeration unit was labeled "Prototype-Alpha." Biometric lock, but beside it was a physical emergency switch—for retrieving vital samples during a power outage. Alex inspected the switch; it was connected to an alarm, but if he could complete the sample extraction and reset the system within three seconds of the alarm triggering...

He had only one chance.

Focusing, he expanded his Spider-Sense to its limit. He perceived the electronic pulse of the entire room: the scan cycle of the surveillance camera (a 2.7-second blind spot), the coverage of motion sensors (30 cm to 2 meters above the floor), the status update interval of the door system (every 5 seconds).

Timing was everything.

Alex waited for the camera to swing to its leftmost point, then moved with spider-like speed. He opened the refrigeration unit; cold mist billowed out. Inside were five test tubes, labels faded but legible: "Base Formula - Reference Only."

He took one, swiftly placed it into the special container, simultaneously replacing it with a prepared tube of saline solution—similar weight, similar appearance, unlikely to be noticed unless closely inspected. Then he pressed the emergency switch's reset button.

No alarm sounded.

Step one, complete.

Now, he needed a sample of the Arach-9 spider's venom. According to the lab's sample index, it should be in the "Special Biological Materials" section.

That area required higher-level clearance. But Alex came prepared—he pulled a device from his backpack, a biometric spoofer Lily had assembled based on his descriptions of hacking tech. The principle was simple: collect Norman Osborn's biological residue (fingerprints, skin cells) to mimic his biometric signature.

In the office, Alex had collected enough cell samples from Norman's keyboard and phone. Now, he loaded the samples into the spoofer, aiming it at the scanner.

First attempt failed. The second attempt—a green light. The door opened.

The Special Biological Materials section was like a museum. Specimen jars held various bizarre tissues: glowing fungi, crystallized coral, and—on a central display stand—a transparent cylinder suspending a preserved spider.

Arach-9.

Alex approached. The spider was larger than he remembered, the red markings on its body seeming to glow faintly in the preservation fluid. It was dead, but perfectly preserved. A label beside it read: "Project Genesis - Genetically Edited Prototype - Venom Gland Extracts Preserved."

Venom! He quickly located the corresponding refrigeration unit, finding three small vials of amber liquid. He took one vial, using the same substitution method to place it in his container.

Just then, his Spider-Sense flared violently.

Danger. Not from outside, but from... the sample itself?

Alex stepped back, staring at the spider specimen. Its abdomen seemed slightly distended, something moving inside. Impossible, it was dead—

The fluid in the specimen jar suddenly turned cloudy. The spider's leg twitched.

Refrigeration system failure? Or some kind of bio-security measure Norman had designed?

No time to investigate. Alex turned to leave, but as he reached the door, he heard footsteps. The patrolling technicians were early.

He quickly scaled the ceiling, clinging beside a vent, holding his breath.

Two technicians entered the room, holding tablets to record sample status.

"Temperature fluctuation in the Alpha prototype," one said. "Mr. Osborn wants it checked every half hour."

"He's getting more paranoid," the other muttered quietly. "Fired Jenkins last week over a 0.1-degree deviation."

"Jenkins wasn't fired. He... volunteered to leave the project."

An eerie pause. Neither man looked at the other.

"Just saying, we do our jobs, collect our pay. Don't ask questions."

They checked the samples, not noticing the substitutions. But when they approached the spider specimen, Alex saw something that froze his blood: One of them used a key to open a panel at the base of the jar, entered a code, and the fluid inside began to cycle. The spider's abdomen contracted, a fresh drop of venom extracted into a collection vial.

"Weekly replenishment," the technician explained. "The specimen is still producing venom. Some kind of dormant state. Mr. Osborn believes it can live forever as long as the nutrient fluid is maintained."

Alive. Arach-9 was alive, in some kind of stasis, but still producing venom. That explained how Norman could continue his experiments.

After the technicians left, Alex dropped from the ceiling. He needed more information—about how this state was maintained, about the spider's biology.

At the lab's main computer terminal, he plugged in a data extraction device. The firewall was strong, but Alex used his spider-bite-enhanced cognitive processing speed to try multiple exploits. Finally, he gained limited access.

He downloaded all research files on Arach-9: gene editing records, venom component analysis, physiological studies. And... subject records.

The list was longer than he'd imagined. Twelve names, dates going back three years. Status column: three "Successful," five "Failed," four "In Progress." In the remarks, "Successful" was followed by "Contract Terminated - NDA," "Failed" by "Complications - Handled."

"Handled." A chilling word.

Alex felt nauseous. But what shocked him more was the latest entry: Subject Thirteen. Scheduled Start Date: Next week. Identity: Volunteer - Osborn.

Harry.

Norman planned to test the new generation serum on his own son.

Data download complete. Alex removed the device, cleared access logs. He had everything he needed: original serum sample, spider venom, research data. Now he needed to leave.

But as he returned to the stairwell, his Spider-Sense tingled again—this time a sharp warning. Someone was above. More than one person.

Alex quickly changed route, entering the ventilation system via a maintenance shaft. The duct was narrow, but he could squeeze through. His target was the roof, from where he could escape via web.

The ventilation maze was complex; he navigated relying on Spider-Sense and memorized schematics. But at a junction, he chose the wrong path—the duct led to an area he hadn't foreseen: an observation room overlooking a larger lab.

In the lab stood Norman Osborn.

Norman Osborn, who shouldn't have been there, who should have been in Washington.

He was facing away from the observation window, but Alex could see his reflection—wearing a breathing mask connected to a portable device. He was injecting himself with something.

Serum testing. Norman was already a subject.

More terrifying was what lay before him: a transparent isolation tank, inside which was a figure—abnormally muscled, skin pale green, eyes closed, floating in nutrient fluid. An early serum subject, kept in stasis.

"Perfection requires sacrifice," Norman spoke to the empty room, his voice broadcast through speakers. "Richard, you were too weak to understand that. But I proved it... I proved it!"

His voice rose, turning manic. "Power! Clarity! No doubt, no fear! Just... purpose!"

Norman turned, and Alex saw his eyes—pupils fully dilated, whites bloodshot. The serum was taking effect, and he was already in an advanced stage.

Alex remained motionless, hoping the shadows hid him. But Norman seemed to sense something, looking up towards the observation window. For a moment, their gazes seemed to meet.

"Who's there?" Norman's voice turned dangerous.

Alex scrambled back, crawling along the duct. Alarms sounded behind him—Norman had triggered the security system.

Now it wasn't just about leaving, but escaping.

He sped up, his spider-like agility carrying him through the narrow space. The duct ended at a fan, but he could hear the roof outside. Using his strength, he warped the fan's protective grating, squeezing through.

Icy night wind hit his face. Alex stood at the edge of the Oscorp Tower roof, the sea of city lights below. Alarms blared through the building, searchlights beginning to sweep the rooftop.

No time to hesitate. He shot a bio-web strand, swinging towards an adjacent building. Just as he left, bullets shattered the concrete where he'd stood moments before—security was using live ammunition.

A series of swings carried Alex through the urban canyon, searchlights trying to track him. A bullet grazed his shoulder, tearing the suit but not breaking skin.

Five minutes later, he landed safely on a rooftop three blocks away, the alarm sounds fading. He leaned against an air conditioning unit, panting not from exertion but from adrenaline and what he'd just witnessed.

Norman was irreversibly changed. The serum wasn't just in his system; it was controlling him. And he planned to test the new version on Harry—that had to be stopped before it happened.

Alex checked the containers. The serum sample and spider venom were intact. The data device was safe.

He'd completed the collection phase. Now came the hardest part: finding a solution.

But first, he needed to tend to the wound on his shoulder. The suit was torn, but he wasn't bleeding—the rapid healing from the spider bite had already kicked in. However, when he changed at the safehouse, he noticed something odd: the skin around the wound showed a faint golden web-like pattern, strikingly similar to the design on his suit.

His body's reaction to the spider bite was still evolving.