Off The Rails

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as the crane teetered toward him, suspended in a state of limbo. Then, with a final, thunderous creak, the crane fell backward.

Spider-Man wasn't about to let that happen.

He ran past Mr. Negative and leapt forward. First and foremost, he shot a thick strand of webbing on the base of the crane and then looped around, forcibly anchoring it together. He went round and round three times, building up momentum as he flew through the air before letting go and flying up the crane. He skidded across the steel beams as though he was a stone skipping on a lake. His feet quickly latched on and he began scaling the towering structure, his web-shooters firing in rapid succession. 

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip! 

'The lightning strike melted so many random parts!' 

Herbie was three milliseconds too slow to help. Spider-Man was forced to rely on his instincts and intuition. Thwip! Thwip! Thwip! The higher he raced up the crane, the more targeted key points along the structure he fixed.

'Come on, come on, come on—!' 

The crane was still leaning back—and still about to topple into the building directly behind it. While there was no one inside the operator's cab, the building that the crane was about to crash into was a fucking apartment. Hundreds of innocent people were sleeping there. It wasn't a matter of property damage, it was a matter of life and death. 

He arrived at the operating arm which was halfway pointing to the night sky and fried to the point of being dark orange. He deduced that the crane wasn't just falling due to structural reasons; it was magnetically geared to the building. Mr. Negative's abilities were asinine. The crane was going to bash into the building whether he wanted it to or not. 

'As if!' 

Time had slowed as he pushed his limits. He ran up the operating arm, feeling the lingering heat. If it wasn't for his suit, it might have hurt. He fired a series of web lines, criss crossing them over the operating arm. He jumped and bounced round and round, keeping everything tight and then landed on the hook. At this point, the operating arm was completely vertical. If it fell now, the chances of stopping it were—

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip! Thwip! 

No time to think or hesitate; move! Keep moving! 

At the end of the operating arm, he arrived at the trolly and the hook attached to it. The trolley that moved the hook was secured nicely but the lightning had fried its locking mechanisms. Everything he had down below was working and beginning to slow the structure's fall. However, if the hook fell, then the civilians walking below on the streets would be in danger.

He could almost sense the stares of confusion and panic. New York was busy whether it was night or day. Of course people were going to be out and about. 

Thwiiiip! He webbed up the entire hook and trolley like a cocoon and went back to looping around the crane. Sweat beaded on his brow as he used all his instincts and speed. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the crane came to a shuddering halt. The operating arm was pointed to the sky and the crane itself was halfway over the street. The perimeter walls were bent back from the minor weight that was pushing through.

Fortunately, in the end, Spider-Man had managed to turn the crane into a cocoon. White webbing was everywhere. He took maybe a second to break on top of the glass encasing of the operator's cab before diving back down. 

Mr. Negative was his opponent. This was just a detour. As he dived head-first, his user interface zoomed in on Mr. Negative—and what he saw was a big, nasty grin.

Spider-Sense screamed at him. He turned and saw black.

Cricccck! KA-DUUUM!

One hundred million volts to one billion volts. That was the estimated range of voltage for lightning. The black lightning that struck his chest clocked in at ten billion volts and lasted for over eight seconds. 

Eight seconds of pure torture.

The crackling energy of the black lightning struck him with devastating force, coursing through his body and breaking any sense of equilibrium and control. He spiraled uncontrollably, his senses reeling from the impact as he plummeted towards the ground below. With a deafening crash, he slammed into the pavement of the construction site, the force of the impact sending shockwaves rippling through the surrounding area. Pain shot through every fiber of his being as he struggled to push himself upright, his limbs trembling with the effort as he fought to regain his footing.

For a moment, all was silent save for the faint crackle of electricity and the groan of protesting metal. Then, with a whirr and a buzz, the AI systems of his suit flickered back to life, his sensors blinking to signal his reboot.

"Error... error..." Herbie's synthesized voice stuttered as the AI struggled to recalibrate his damaged components. "System malfunction detected. Rebooting…"

Through the haze of agony, slipping and failing to gain footing, his gaze locked onto Mr. Negative, who stood triumphant, his malevolent grin twisting into a cruel sneer. His suit wasn't enough, not for a full blast of literal lightning.

"Ha…haa…" Mr. Negative approached him. His katana was alight with energy though visibly weaker, skidding across the ground. "I gotcha, little spider."

Spider-Man pushed himself up from the ground, his muscles aching and his breath coming in ragged gasps. Panting, roaring, also pushed to his limits, Mr. Negative charged at him. Spider-Man's instincts kicked in and he swiftly back-stepped the slashing blade of the katana.

But despite his efforts to evade the attack, he was not fast enough to escape unscathed. The sharp edge of the blade sliced across his chest, tearing through his suit and flesh with a searing pain that shot through his entire being. A crimson trail of blood welled up from the wound, staining his suit as he staggered backward, his vision swimming with agony. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Spider-Man fought to maintain his focus. 

"Hya! Ha!"

Mr. Negative closed in, his blade slicing through the air with lethal precision. Felix found himself sluggish. The razor-sharp edge of the katana tore through the arm of his suit once more, leaving behind a fresh wound that seared with agonizing pain.

Mr. Negative kept swinging and fighting. "Hahaha! Haa…gotcha!" The more he fought, the stronger and faster his katana became. His full power was returning to him as his adrenaline kicked in. Things were bad.

Felix ducked under a swing and attempted to counter with his web-shooters. There was an awkward moment where he stood there, hands in that classic three-fingered gesture. The two-finger activation should have set the webbing off like it always did. Unless—

'The black lightning fried my web-shooters! Ugh!' He backstepped and failed to dodge Mr. Negative's blade again. Across his chest was a bloody X-mark. Mr. Negative wasn't content with just that. He wanted more and he would get it. 

"I'm going to kill you!" Slash! Slash! Slash! He nicked his arm. "And then I'm going to go to Grand Central and blow up every single person that supports that piece of shit Norman Osborn! I'll kill them ALL!" 

Mr. Negative was skilled with the blade. He was no amateur. Combined with Felix's healing factor focused on recovering from lightning and he was able to press his advantage. But above all else, he was committed. There was no way to reason with him. Dodge, dodge, dodge, that was all Felix could afford to do.

He eyed his katana, feeling his Spider-Sense linger on it. It was glowing darker and darker until it was completely black. He was at full power. White lightning coursed through his pitch-black complexion—

'So what!?' 

Spider-Man swooped in close, ignoring the pain and the power-up, and slammed his fist into his neck. Mr. Negative staggered back. 

'Who gives a shit!' His opponent thrust his sword at his skull. He missed terribly and bam! Felix landed an uppercut. 'In a one-on-one, I'm still stronger and faster!' 

The webs were just a precaution, not a necessity. Even with all his senses and healing factor diluted, it didn't erase the difference when Spider-Man actually started trying. Mr. Negative was utterly gobsmacked by his sudden offensive manoeuvre and rearranged his legs into a cross, blade going down his arm. 

Clang! Bam! Bam! Clang! 

Close-quarter combat was Mr. Negative's speciality. In terms of swordsmanship while disregarding powers, he was better suited for defence which was how he was able to block and counter the superhuman fists of the vigilante. Spider-Man was focusing on knocking him out with a full combo and Mr. Negative understood that was indeed possible. He shifted his footwork accordingly, pulling out all his experience, intuition, and talent. 

Spider-Man was fast. Ludicrously fast—and the longer the battle went on, the more he healed and the faster he became. That was why Mr. Negative needed space. He needed to charge up his katana for just a moment and then send out a sword slash. 

"You little—!" Mr. Negative growled, suddenly irritated by his own logical defence. "Out of my WAY!"

Mr. Negative screamed, his emotions taking over, and swung his sword down recklessly. There was no dodging it. Felix put his arms into a cross and blocked the large mangle of black and white energy. A monochromatic explosion ensued. 

The dust settled and to Mr. Negative's surprise, Spider-Man still stood, blood gushing down his wrist in thick heaps. The katana had landed but it failed to incinerate him like it did a normal human. His other side kicked in and the villain clicked his tongue and backed away. He needed just another second and he could blast him again—

'Like I said…!' 

The cut down his wrist was three inches deep and burned deeply. He didn't care and chased after Mr. Negative, throwing fist after fist. Block after block was met. The once pure metal katana was amplified and transformed into something greater than steel. But then…

'Who gives a shit!' 

Mr. Negative was too slow and was forced to outright dodge an incoming punch to the temple. Sweat was falling from his brow, his tempo ruined. For Felix, it was exactly what he needed. He gained space, bending his knees slightly, and threw a kick right at his stomach. As he expected, Mr. Negative attempted to block with his katana.

Snap! 

And went wide-eyed when the black blade broke from the force of his kick. Shock registered on Mr. Negative's face as he was sent reeling back. He stared at the broken remnants of his weapon, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Seizing the opportunity, Spider-Man launched himself forward. Mr. Negative threw a hand forward and released a blast of energy, which he leaped over with ease. 

Bam! 

A clean axe-king down the head. 

"Ugh!"

His blast of energy was cut off. Spider-Man hit hard and landed directly behind him. The villain turned and roared as he attempted to blast him again. He failed as he was struck in the stomach. Following that, Spider-Man landed a powerful uppercut, driving his fist upwards with enough force to lift Mr. Negative off his feet. Then, before the villain could react, Felix followed up with a devastating roundhouse kick, his leg swinging in a wide arc and connecting with the side of Mr. Negative's head with bone-crushing impact.

The force of the blow sent Mr. Negative hurtling through the air, his body spinning uncontrollably as he crashed into the perimeter wall of the construction site with a resounding thud. Wood and debris exploded outward from the impact. A light-brown wall dividing the villain from the streets of New York was damaged but not pierced.

"Ngh…!" Inside the suit, Felix's flesh numbed at last. His wrist was beginning to heal too. With a deep breath, he approached the villain.

The villain lay crumpled against the shattered wall, his breath ragged as he struggled to regain his footing.

"My parents... died because of me. Because of what Osborn did to me," Mr. Negative muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness and regret. His words made Spider-Man stop.

But before Spider-Man could say anything, Mr. Negative's expression twisted into one of rage and despair. With a wild cry, he unleashed a burst of dark energy, surrounding himself in a blinding white light that filled the entire construction site.

Felix shielded his eyes against the intense glare. Error messages flashed across his display, warning of critical malfunctions and system failures. His world darkened abruptly. 

He opened his eyes and through the darkness saw a glimmer of light. When Spider-Man's vision cleared, he found himself standing in the middle of a dark scene, a moment frozen in time like a haunting specter from another era. Before him, he witnessed a young boy no more than seven, his face contorted in pain as a syringe pierced his skin.

'What is this…? Who is this?' 

The faceless doctor that had injected him with the syringe promptly walked to the other side of the medical room. Felix looked around and noticed the shadows barring him from leaving this place. He was forced to watch the child and the young doctor and immediately realized who both were. All of a sudden, everything made sense.

He got hit by something. He got hit by Mr. Negative's corruption. If that was the case…

'This must be his memories.' 

"Martin sweetie, are you okay?" 

Martin.

Mr. Negative was Martin Li. His mother, a young woman with long black hair, trembled with concern, her husband by her side. But Martin could only stare back at them with confusion.

"Sweetie?" Mrs. Li asked again, coming closer. 

"I don't know, Mom... Dad..." Martin's voice was barely a whisper, choked with fear and uncertainty. "Something's... something's happening to me..."

Mr. Li turned. "Dr. Os—"

It was too late. Martin's features contorted, his once innocent expression twisted into one of agony and despair. In an instant, his complexion darkened, and his eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. 

Mr. Negative was born.

Before anyone could react, chaos erupted as a deafening explosion tore through the laboratory, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. Felix instinctively shielded himself from the blast even though he knew it was an illusion. When his arms came down, he found himself in a room. It seemed his surroundings had shifted and morphed to a different time and place. 

The room itself was sparse, its furnishings simple yet filled with personal touches—a worn-out desk cluttered with notebooks and files, a threadbare rug covering the scuffed wooden floorboards, and a narrow bed tucked into one corner, its sheets rumpled and unkempt. On the walls were naval maps and trading routes. 'This must have been when he began his shipping company,' Felix thought.

In the center of the room stood a large corkboard, covered in newspaper articles detailing Osborn's alleged crimes and injustices. Scattered across the floor around it were stacks of research notes and files. Two-thirds of them were about business and economics and the remaining third was about Norman Osborn. Every newspaper clipping and every little article about him. All of it was here.

'The hate…the anger…I can feel it. It's what fuels him.' 

On the worn-out desk, he saw a framed photo. A family of three: a wife, a husband, and a son. Beside it was a ship in a bottle. Felix approached it. There was writing on the impossible bottle.

I used to have a fear of boats, but that ship has sailed! - Dad

Ignore your dad - Mom

He tried to touch it. Before he could, the ship disappeared, the photo cracked, and a voice echoed from every direction. 

"I tried so hard to make my parents proud. To honour their legacy. But to truly honour them, Osborn must see justice."

Suddenly, the desk seemed to warp and distort, and from it…Mr. Negative materialized, his form wreathed in swirling tendrils of black and white energy. His eyes burned with an intensity that sent a chill down Felix's spine. Mr. Negative raised his hands, the energy around him crackling with raw power.

"I can feel my power growing, feeding off my anger! Father would say I've lost the path of balance, but he could never understand: the only way to fight a monster is to become one!"