Chapter Title: Legacy of Mercy
The Stark Expo was many things over the years—extravagant, theatrical, a shrine to invention—but never had it felt quite so... momentous. Not until the day the Superior Spider-Man walked its stage.
Three months of development, secrecy, and scrutiny had led to this moment.
The main auditorium, rebuilt with Stark-grade vibranium composite for security, was packed with world leaders, scientists, military officials, media, and civilians alike. Giant holographic banners pulsed with a bold white spider insignia over a red and black backdrop. At the center stood the man himself: Otto Octavius, lean, composed, and in his tailored black suit—his signature spider pendant glinting faintly against his chest.
Unlike Tony's old shows full of fireworks and swagger, Otto had kept the lights low. No distractions. The stage was minimal, clean. Commanding.
When he stepped up to the podium, the room quieted like a breath being held.
"Good morning," Otto said. His voice carried with cool authority. "Today, I offer no promises. Only results."
With a gesture, a sleek white pod floated onto stage. It opened, revealing a rounded, marshmallow-like figure: Baymax. Unlike his cartoonish inspiration, this model was sleeker, more angular, still soft-looking but practical, with blue diagnostic lights tracing through its limbs. A perfect balance of empathy and engineering.
"This is Baymax," Otto continued. "A fully autonomous medical companion. It scans, analyzes, treats, and records—with a bedside manner tailored for trauma patients, children, veterans, or frontline soldiers. It cannot be reprogrammed into a weapon."
He raised a hand as if anticipating the question. "Try, and it will self-destruct within 0.2 seconds. Non-lethal. But unrecoverable."
A ripple of murmurs surged through the room.
"Baymax was not designed for war," Otto stated. "It was designed because I remember a world where too many died waiting for help."
Behind him, a series of holographic images flashed: a child with a broken leg being treated in seconds, a soldier stabilized mid-battlefield, a nurse sobbing as Baymax administered CPR.
"In this age of gods and monsters, we have forgotten mercy," he said. "Baymax remembers."
Applause erupted.
Gwen Stacy, watching from backstage in her intern badge and white lab coat, smiled proudly. Pepper Potts stood beside her, arms crossed, nodding in quiet approval.
A group of military officials stood in the front row. One of them, a general in black with stark silver hair, stood up.
"Mr. Octavius," he said, "Can these units be deployed in combat zones for medical-only purposes?"
"Yes," Otto answered without pause. "They are pre-coded with battlefield triage algorithms and can navigate combat zones using avoidance-based programming. But they cannot, under any circumstances, harm or aid harm."
"Would you be open to exclusive government contracts—"
"No," Otto cut in. "They are available to all through Stark Industries Medical Division. We will sell them at cost. This is not a product. It is a principle."
The general slowly sat back down.
At that moment, dozens of Baymax units marched out onto the stage, moving in formation before dispersing into a simulated disaster scene. Holograms projected a building collapse, smoke, fire, chaos. The Baymaxes moved with unshakable calm—locating vitals, stabilizing victims, lifting debris, wrapping wounds.
The room was spellbound.
From the VIP overlook, Tony Stark watched, arms folded, eyes unreadable. He leaned toward Rhodey.
"He might actually be better at this than I was."
Rhodey gave a low whistle. "Still kinda terrifying, though."
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the second balcony, a figure in black observed the event through binocular lenses. No badge. No clearance.
He whispered into his comms. "Confirming: Octavius has mass-deployed healing AI. Defense-proofed. Intellectual property locked. No remote override."
The voice on the other end hissed, "Can you extract a unit?"
"I tried." The figure reached into his coat, showing a burned, melted chip. "It auto-purged."
"Then Plan B. Watch him. Learn. Wait."
Back on stage, Otto stepped forward again.
"You will see Baymax units deployed in hospitals, schools, disaster zones. You will see children survive what would have killed them. You will see a future where response time is measured in seconds, not hours."
He paused. "And if you attempt to misuse them… you will be hunted. By me."
A pulse of static passed through the microphone.
"My name is Otto Octavius. I am the Superior Spider-Man. And this is only the beginning."
With that, the stage lights dimmed, leaving behind a single spotlight on Baymax.
Then the applause came.
A wave.
A storm.
Even J. Jonah Jameson, watching from a private livestream with a cup of decaf, muttered under his breath, "...I hate that I love this."
As the media swarmed, Pepper walked to Otto's side.
"You did it," she said softly. "They're going to change the world."
He nodded once. "Let's make sure it's the right kind of change."
Behind him, the Baymaxes continued working.
Quietly. Efficiently.
Mercifully.
Chapter Title: The Meaning of My Words
The city buzzed beneath the dusk like a beehive disturbed. Otto Octavius stood atop a StarkTech surveillance building, the glow of its screens illuminating his black-and-red Iron Spider-inspired suit. Adele, his AI, softly confirmed the last of the data pings.
"They accessed the prototype schematics at 02:36. Internal ID tag cross-references to an inside informant from Vanguard Biotronics," Adele reported.
Otto's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Fools. I warned them—this technology is for healing. And now they will learn what that warning truly meant."
He turned, his mechanical limbs rising with deadly precision.
---
Lower Manhattan — Midnight
A neon-lit warehouse bore the insignia of a shell logistics company. Inside, a gang of smugglers unloaded crates—one of which contained a tampered Baymax core, the self-destruct protocol subtly disabled.
The leader, a gaunt man with cybernetic implants named Corvax, spoke to his client on a secure line. "The AI's emotional core is intact. With a few tweaks, it'll serve combat just fine."
The door behind them hissed open.
"That was a mistake," Otto said coldly, stepping inside.
The room fell silent. Baymax's stolen core floated between Otto's mechanical limbs as he entered, his eyes glowing faint white in the dim light.
"Who the hell are you?" Corvax barked.
Otto threw the core to the ground. It beeped once and instantly vaporized with a silent blue flash.
"I am the man who told you never to tamper with Baymax. I am the Supreme Spider-Man."
Chaos erupted.
Two mercenaries fired plasma rifles. Otto's limbs moved before thought—one shielding, one slicing through the rifle. Another extended, grabbing a man by the leg and slamming him into the ceiling. Sparks rained.
Adele whispered: "Twelve hostiles. Four enhanced."
Otto didn't respond. He leapt into the crowd, his movements a blend of spiderlike grace and mechanical terror. Corvax tried to run.
Webbing struck his foot mid-stride. Otto reeled him back.
"You didn't just steal," Otto hissed, lifting him by the neck. "You mocked mercy."
With a single flick, Otto flung Corvax into a control panel, disabling the security feeds.
He turned to the rest of the gang, still conscious and crawling back.
"Let this be your epilogue," he said, stepping toward them.
Adele triggered the warehouse lockdown.
Outside, nobody heard the screams.
---
Stark Tower – Two Hours Later
Tony Stark entered the war room after a silent call from Adele.
"Let me guess—Otto went full Rambo?" Tony muttered, sipping his espresso.
The screen displayed encrypted feeds of the destroyed gang base, now a crater with white smoke and scorched metal.
"More like a one-man black-ops team," Pepper said beside him, arms crossed. "He kept his word."
Tony sighed. "He's effective. But if this keeps happening—"
"Then maybe they should listen when he says 'Don't steal my tech,'" Gwen added as she entered, holding a burned Baymax core fragment.
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Where'd you get that?"
"He left it on my desk. Like a calling card."
Pepper gave a small smirk. "He's dramatic."
"He's Otto," Gwen said softly. "He means every word."
---
Brooklyn Rooftop – Dawn
Otto stood alone as the sun rose, his mechanical limbs retracting, his breath slow and steady.
Gwen landed softly behind him, still in her lab coat, holding a coffee.
"You done being terrifying for today?"
Otto didn't turn. "They tried to weaponize something sacred."
"And you reminded them why that was a mistake," Gwen said, stepping beside him. "But you're not alone, Otto. You have people now. Let us help next time."
He looked at her, his voice quieter. "I didn't want you to see that side of me."
"I already have. And I'm still here."
They stood in silence.
Below, the city stirred, unaware that a storm had passed—unseen, unheard, but unforgettable.
And above them, the Supreme Spider-Man watched, ever vigilant, his warning now etched into legend.
---