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"The Superman of OsCorp: Master of Resurrection. Is he a God...?" — The New York Times
"Superman? Just another bioengineered con job from OsCorp." — The Clinton Chronicle
"Williams Thanks Superman for Saving His Life Admits He Was Pressured to Discredit OsCorp." — Penny Post
"Superman! A Man Who Can Bring Back the Dead?" — Vanity Press
---
After the now-infamous OsCorp launch, front pages across the country were plastered with one image: a silhouette standing beneath a blast hole in the ceiling, light casting his face in shadow.
A new figure had entered the public eye.
Superman.
He was strong enough to stop a jeep with his bare hands.
He could fly.
He could revive the dead.
The dramatic resurrection of Williams had become the marketing miracle OsCorp didn't know it needed. Orders flooded in. Venture capitalists raced to invest in their self-healing bandages and rapid-regeneration spray.
Even those who had tried to sabotage OsCorp couldn't hold back the surge. The stock price skyrocketed.
OsCorp had become a global phenomenon.
---
Now, outside OsCorp HQ, a teenage boy stood nervously at the entrance.
Peter Parker.
"If something like that serum existed back when Uncle Ben was shot…" Peter whispered, holding the internship invitation in his hands.
Maybe things would've been different.
Originally, he'd planned to intern at Stark Industries. But Harry Osborn had been persuasive and after seeing the Superman footage with his own eyes, Peter changed his mind.
He had to see it for himself.
Not just the science… but the secrets.
His missing father. The rumors about Connors. The whispers about the Green Goblin.
The last time he'd followed Connors to a mysterious estate, the doctor had deliberately led him away. Peter had played along out of respect but he hadn't forgotten.
He'd gone back later.
The place was gone.
And then he saw him the man from the paper. The same man who'd been with Connors that day.
Curiosity gave way to conviction.
He even informed Mr. Stark, explaining why he was switching companies.
No reply.
Peter glanced at his phone.
Still no messages.
"…Guess Tony's busy," he muttered. "Wouldn't be the first time."
He approached the front desk.
"Hi, I'm here to see Dr. Connors," he said, holding out his invitation.
The receptionist, bright-eyed and charming, nodded.
"Of course. Take the elevator to the 7th floor. He's expecting you."
"Thanks."
Peter stepped into the crowded elevator. Just as the doors began to close—
"Hold it! Wait!"
A voice shouted.
Peter reached for the button, but someone already had their finger jammed on close. He glanced over; the guy gave him a sheepish grin and lifted his hand.
At the last second, an arm shot out to block the doors.
They reopened.
A wiry Black man with slightly crooked teeth and curly hair rushed in, cradling a rolled-up blueprint under his arm.
"Phew! Sorry, everyone tight deadline!" he said with a sheepish smile.
Peter glanced at his employee badge: Max Dillon. Electrical Engineering Department.
After Max got off a few floors later, Peter arrived at seven.
"Peter," a familiar voice called. Dr. Connors was waiting.
"Professor. I'm here to start my internship."
"I know. Come on in," Connors said, smiling. "We'll get your onboarding done. I've placed you in our Self-Healing Product Division. What do you think?"
Peter blinked. "That's… a pretty high-profile department."
"I've already cleared it with the department head," Connors said.
"Who's the head?"
"Superman," he replied with a chuckle.
Peter blinked again, more stunned than before.
In the lab, Peter stood holding his new employee ID, still in awe. Superman was OsCorp's division head?
That alone was front-page news.
But of course, he'd signed an NDA. He wouldn't say a word.
Connors smiled and continued, "This department's technically under me too. If you run into trouble, you can come to me directly."
He paused.
"Your father, Richard… He was once a department head at OsCorp as well."
Peter looked down, emotions flashing briefly across his face.
"For now, you'll need to go through a medical screening. Standard onboarding."
"Blood test?" Peter asked warily.
"And urine," Connors confirmed. "Standard protocol. The regenerative compounds we handle can be disrupted by unusual biology we have to screen for it."
Peter tensed. Ever since becoming Spider-Man, he'd avoided anything involving blood samples.
He was afraid someone would discover his secret.
But if he refused, he might lose this opportunity.
And he needed to be here.
"I… uh… yeah, no problem."
Connors gave him a sideways glance, a hint of suspicion in his eyes.
"We destroy all samples after screening," he added. "Even your father had to go through it. Every company requires it."
Peter forced a laugh and waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah it's fine. Just nervous."
"Good. Drink some water. You'll be called in soon."
Peter took the bottle, nodded, and drank it down. Thanks to his spider-sense, he didn't feel threatened, just uneasy.
It's just a little blood. A little urine. What's the worst that could happen?
Moments later, someone came to escort him to the testing center.
Connors watched him leave, a half-smile on his face.
Such a kid…
He glanced back at his data logs. With Peter's samples, he could finally decrypt the last pieces of Richard's legacy project.
If only he had access to the original files…
---
In a different wing of the building, Nolan stood by the window, arms crossed.
"Parker's begun his medical screening," Norman reported beside him.
"Good," Nolan said. "Let's hope he's the one. My Superior Spider."
If not, he'd have to start exploring other options.
Norman suddenly remembered something. "Sir, that employee you asked me to track, Max Dillon. His birthday's in a few days."
Nolan raised an eyebrow. "Send him a cake. If there's a storm that day, make sure he doesn't come in for overtime."
"…Is there something special about him?"
"A man both lucky and unlucky."
---
Note: The timeline has been condensed to fit a more dynamic pacing. The rise of Spider-Man's villains will follow a denser, more immediate trajectory for narrative reasons. Otherwise, writing it all from the Iron Man era would take years.
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