"Mr. Kravinoff gave us the coordinates," Peter said, hastily adjusting the tension on his web-shooters. "He took a bad bite to the shoulder. Hank and Janet are already en route in a Quinjet to extract him."
Peter turned away from the tactical monitor and looked at the haggard scientist pacing the rooftop laboratory. "Dr. Drew, tell me we have the cure."
Dr. Jonathan Drew wiped a streak of grease from his forehead. He reached into a refrigerated lockbox and pulled out two pressurized metal canisters. "I finished the neutralizing agent for Mr. Kravinoff. I also finished the one for Ms. Moon. You insisted I prioritize their batches." Dr. Drew hesitated, his eyes darting toward a centrifuge still spinning violently in the corner. "The problem is yours, Peter. It needs another four minutes to properly bond."
"We don't have four minutes," Peter said, snatching his mask from the desk. "I'll just have to avoid getting bitten. My Spider-Sense has a pretty stellar track record."
Because the Lizard's super-soldier-enhanced dermal plating was virtually impenetrable to standard hypodermic needles, Dr. Drew had synthesized the retro-mutagen into a concentrated aerosol mist. The catch was the biochemistry. The formula had to be perfectly sequenced to the victim's specific DNA to trigger the reversal. A permanent, universal cure simply didn't exist yet.
Peter looked across the lab at Cindy Moon. "Are you ready?"
Cindy gave a sharp, single nod. Her lower face was obscured by her crimson mask. The tactical priority was clear: strip the atmospheric dispersal device and the remaining mutation serum off the Lizard's body before he could gas the city.
Peter signal V, and the symbiote cover peter with his Black and White Symbiote Spidersuit.
The Hudson River smelled of diesel fuel, wet garbage, and rotting algae. High above the choppy gray water, a Daily Bugle news chopper chopped furiously through the wind, its massive spotlight sweeping back and forth.
Peter and Cindy clung effortlessly to the cold aluminum underbelly of the helicopter, letting the aircraft ferry them directly toward the target. Down below, a massive, jagged wake cut through the dark river.
"We have visual confirmation!" the reporter shouted through the chopper's external loudspeakers, his voice barely cutting through the roaring rotors. "Dr. Connors, the renowned Oscorp biologist mutated by the late Doctor Otto Octavius, is currently swimming straight down the Hudson! My God, the creature is longer than a police cruiser!"
Peter rolled his eyes beneath his lenses. "You know, I'm genuinely having trouble adjusting to a Bugle broadcast that doesn't feature J. Jonah Jameson blowing out my eardrums."
Right on cue, the reporter's feed cut out with a sharp burst of audio static.
"Spider-Man is responsible for this monstrosity!" J. Jonah Jameson's furious, gravelly voice exploded through the loudspeakers, broadcasting live from the studio desk. "Make no mistake, people of New York! It is these incompetent, masked vigilantes who pose the true threat to our society! If this web-slinging menace actually cared about stopping crime, why didn't he capture that giant iguana yesterday?!"
Cindy tilted her head, the wind whipping her black hair around her shoulders. She didn't understand the dynamic. Jameson dedicated three hours a day to slandering Spider-Man. Why did Peter seem so profoundly amused by him?
"Who actually likes being yelled at?" Peter shouted over the rotors, reading her body language. "But honestly? If Jonah ever woke up and suddenly stopped blaming me for traffic delays, bad weather, and giant lizards, I'd immediately assume a Skrull replaced him."
"The shape-shifting aliens Mar-Vell warned us about," Cindy confirmed dryly.
"Exactly." Peter looked down. The water was rushing up fast. The massive green bulk of the Lizard breached the surface, its scaly back catching the chopper's spotlight. "We are wheels down! Stick to the plan!"
Peter detached from the helicopter. He plummeted like a missile. Tucking his knees tightly into his chest, he executed a flawless, high-velocity dropkick right between the Lizard's massive shoulder blades.
The reptile roared in pain, its heavy, scaled head breaking the water.
Cindy dropped a split-second later. She fired a precision web-line, aiming directly for the waterproof plastic tarp strapped to the beast's shoulder.
The Lizard reacted with terrifying, prehistoric speed. A massive, clawed hand swiped upward. The razor-sharp talons shredded Cindy's webbing like wet tissue paper.
"Plan B!" Peter yelled.
Liquid black ink surged outward from the center of his chest. Venom took the wheel. Thick, muscular tendrils erupted from Peter's forearms, wrapping tightly around the Lizard's thrashing arms. The symbiote's grip was infinitely stronger and far more resilient than standard synthetic webbing.
But Peter had a severe physics problem. He was standing directly on the Lizard's slick, scaly back while it swam. He had absolutely no leverage to stop a nine-foot monster.
The Lizard thrashed its massive tail, surging forward through the water and dragging Peter along for the ride.
Venom shot two massive black cables from Peter's back. The tendrils snapped onto the concrete piling of the George Washington Bridge as they sped past. The cables pulled violently taut.
The structural integrity is failing! Venom roared in Peter's mind, feeling the vibration through the tendrils. The concrete is cracking! If we do not release, we will pull the bridge down!
"Let go!" Peter screamed.
Venom released the piling. The sudden, violent transfer of kinetic energy acted like a massive slingshot. Peter and the Lizard were launched entirely out of the water.
Venom instantly flattened out, forming broad, black glide-panels under Peter's arms to catch the wind and slow his descent.
The Lizard had no such parachute. The monster skipped across the surface of the Hudson like a giant, scaly stone. He slammed headfirst into a massive, multi-layered web-net Cindy had just strung horizontally between two bridge piers.
The webbing stretched tight, trapping the thrashing beast.
Cindy swung down from the overpass. She snatched the heavy nebulizer device and the remaining vials of blue serum directly from the Lizard's torn harness.
The Lizard's jaw unhinged. A thick stream of highly corrosive, green venom sprayed from its mouth. The acid hit the web-net, melting the synthetic fibers into bubbling sludge in seconds. The beast plunged back into the dark water, free again.
"Good job, Silk!" Peter tapped his earpiece, watching her swing away with the payload. "Take all of it straight to the lab or Avengers Tower and incinerate it!"
Peter reached into his utility belt. He pulled out the custom aerosol canister containing Dr. Connors' cure. "I'll handle the giant iguana."
Firing a web-line to a passing ferry, Peter swung low over the water. He easily tracked the massive green shape moving just beneath the surface. He felt completely in his element.
"Hey, Doc!" Peter yelled, his voice echoing over the rushing river. "Remember me? Want to pull over and chat?"
The Lizard ignored him, swimming faster toward the open harbor.
Peter swung closer, keeping pace effortlessly. "You don't really have a plan anymore, Doc! Kraven already chewed you up. And getting bitten by a radioactive reptile is just going to give me a nasty infection, not superpowers. Let's just talk this out!"
The Lizard breached the surface. The beast grabbed a floating, rusted oil drum and hurled it at Peter with the force of a cannonball.
"My God, is that an empty oil drum? Is this just what floats in the Hudson now?"
Peter fired a quick web. The silk attached to the flying drum. He gripped the line, spinning his body in mid-air to redirect the momentum, and violently whipped the heavy steel drum right back into the Lizard's head.
Steel crumpled loudly against dense scales.
Then, the world stopped.
A blinding, agonizing jolt of electricity spiked directly into Peter's cerebral cortex.
His Spider-Sense didn't just tingle. It screamed.
The Hudson River vanished. The cold wind stopped blowing.
Peter saw the Osborn Tech Expo. He saw the sterile, white convention hall from months ago. He saw the glass containment unit. He saw the genetically modified spider dropping from the ceiling on a single, invisible strand of silk.
But it didn't land on his hand.
He watched, entirely paralyzed, as the radioactive spider sank its fangs directly into the back of Gwen Stacy's hand.
"No," Peter gasped, the multiverse vision tearing through his mind like broken glass. "Oh God, no! Not now!"