Peter Parker was in his backyard practicing squats. The heavy barbell pressed down on his trapezius muscles, bending the bar under the weight. Before each squat, he would take a deep breath, exhale slowly only after standing up.
His core strength had increased so quickly that simple squats no longer provided any workout benefit. After continuing his training, Peter had become addicted to the feeling of pushing past his limits and growing stronger.
His uncle, Ben Parker, leaned against the doorframe, watching his nephew with concern. In such a short time, Peter’s muscles had become far more defined, and his entire frame had grown noticeably larger.
After completing his hundred squats, Peter removed the weight plates, setting them in the corner of the yard, preparing for a run.
“Wait, Peter, come over here. I need to talk to you,” Ben Parker suddenly called out.
Peter wiped the sweat from his face with a towel and looked at his uncle, puzzled.
“What’s going on with you lately, Peter? Something feels off. Your grandfather, your father, and even I never trained like this. You’re not like anyone in the Parker family anymore.”
The Parkers were traditionally engineers and scientists. Peter’s grandfather had been a bridge engineer, his father a geological engineer, and Ben himself was an electrical engineer. Peter’s late father, Richard Parker, was the most brilliant—a renowned biology professor.
If his father could see Peter now, transformed into a muscle-bound jock, he would likely be rolling in his grave.
In the living room, Aunt May was watching TV. She peeked her head out, chiming in with an unusually differing opinion from Ben:
“I think it’s great. Girls like strong guys with muscles.”
Ben felt frustrated but didn’t know how to argue back. While he wasn’t knowledgeable about fitness, Peter’s level of training was clearly far beyond normal limits.
That barbell—he had tried lifting it himself but couldn’t budge it at all.
On TV, a CBS interview was being broadcast. The renowned journalist Mike Wallace was interviewing Justin Hammer, the CEO and founder of Hammer Industries.
Recently, defense stocks had been on the rise. Since the show couldn’t get the reclusive Tony Stark, they settled for Justin Hammer, who enjoyed being in the spotlight.
“Mr. Hammer, what do you think about Tony Stark’s recent comments?” Mike Wallace asked.
“A brilliant idea. It’s our responsibility as business leaders to ensure humanity maintains control over its own destiny. Here at Hammer Industries, we are dedicated to producing cutting-edge weapons that give the U.S. military an overwhelming technological advantage.”
Justin Hammer spoke confidently.
“And what’s your relationship with Tony Stark like?” Wallace asked.
“We’re undoubtedly good friends. You know, we often attend events together. Tony’s a witty guy, and I enjoy working with him.”
Before Justin Hammer could say more, there was sudden commotion in the studio.
“Guards! Where are the security guards?!”
“Quick! Stop them!”
A figure in a bat-like armored suit stormed into the frame, effortlessly lifting both Mike Wallace and Justin Hammer like ragdolls and tossing them into a corner.
“Come on in, Professor Connors,” the armored figure said.
A middle-aged man in a white lab coat stepped into the studio. Clearly nervous in front of the camera, it was none other than Dr. Curt Connors.
“Professor Connors!” Peter Parker exclaimed, his eyes glued to the television. After the Lizard incident, Dr. Connors had gone missing. Peter had even sneaked into Oscorp Tower but found all of Connors’ files had been erased, as if he had never been there.
Inside the studio, Broly glanced menacingly at the terrified producers and cameramen.
“Keep the broadcast going, or I’ll kill you,” he warned, casually punching a hole through the studio wall.
Justin Hammer recoiled in fear, squirming to distance himself from Broly. But Mike Wallace, ever the professional journalist, approached Broly with curiosity.
“Excuse me, sir. Are you the superhuman Tony Stark mentioned during his press conference?”
Broly ignored the question and instead walked over to the producer, lifting him from his chair to inspect the control screens, ensuring the live feed wasn’t cut off.
“Good afternoon, everyone watching at home. I am Dr. Curt Connors, head of the cross-species genetic project at Oscorp. You can still find my picture on the official Oscorp website—they haven’t had the chance to remove it yet.”
“Today, with all my savings, I’ve hired this… ‘Batman’ to help me expose the truth.”
Connors emphasized the word “Batman,” as Broly had insisted, to avoid people inventing other ridiculous nicknames for him.
“Many of you may remember the recent attack on the Brooklyn Bridge by a creature—a Lizard Man. Contrary to the news reports, this was not a mutant but rather a product of the cross-species genetic project. Oscorp, desperate to accelerate their experiments, skipped adequate animal trials and directly tested my Lizard serum on humans, creating that monster.”
The viewers at home were in shock.
“Some of you may doubt my words, but I have irrefutable evidence.”
Broly pulled out a USB drive and handed it to the producer, ordering him to play the footage on live TV.
“This is New York’s Veterans Hospital. Ostensibly, it’s a place for wounded veterans to recover. But under Oscorp’s control, it has become a source of test subjects for their experiments.”
The video began to play, showing a young soldier who had lost both arms and a leg strapped to a surgical table, restrained by tough metal bonds. The footage sped up, showing how after an injection by technicians in red hazmat suits, the soldier’s lost limbs rapidly regenerated. But soon after, his skin transformed into scaly green-brown hide, and he became a mindless Lizard Man.
“Approximately a dozen innocent veterans have been turned into these mindless Lizard Men as a result of Oscorp’s human experiments,” Connors continued.
Viewers were left in stunned silence, realizing the horrifying truth that Oscorp had been creating these monsters, exploiting those who had already sacrificed so much.
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