MARVEL -BLACK SPIDERMAN

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"What's going on?"

Christine hurried over as soon as she heard the news. She looked at the patient being rushed into the emergency room and then at Strange, who was frantically pushing the gurney beside the ambulance. His composure was gone. She frowned and asked a nearby nurse what had happened.

"It was a traffic accident."

Christine nodded and quickly began assessing the patient's condition.

"No breathing, no pulse. Administer a cardiotonic immediately and prepare to move him to the operating room," she ordered the nurse. "I'll get ready for surgery."

"Victor! Victor!" Strange kept calling his brother's name as he pushed the gurney.

When they reached the doors of the operating room, Christine motioned for the nurses and caregivers to stop Strange from going any further.

"Strange, you're too emotional right now. Wait here," Christine said firmly as she started to don her surgical gown.

"He's my brother! I have to do the surgery!" Strange broke free from the nurses, his voice urgent.

Christine froze, shocked at his revelation. The patient was his brother.

Taking a deep breath, she refused his request. "You're a neurosurgeon, Strange."

"I can do this!" he insisted.

"No, you can't. Even if you could treat his nerves, you can't restart a heart that's already stopped."

"Shut up!" Strange snapped, breathing heavily. "I'll do it!"

"No! You're not in the right frame of mind to be a doctor right now," Christine said firmly, shaking her head as she turned towards the operating room.

With a loud *bang*, the door closed behind her, leaving Strange on the other side.

*Four hours later.*

Christine found Strange sitting in the waiting area, hunched over on a public bench, his head down, completely defeated.

"I'm sorry, Strange," she said quietly.

Victor's injuries had been too severe. Despite her best efforts, she hadn't been able to save him.

"No, it's not your fault," Strange murmured, his head still lowered as he stretched out his hands in front of him. "I thought these hands could save everything, but now I realize... I can't change anything."

Christine stayed silent, unsure how to comfort him.

"When I was young, I dreamed of becoming a doctor," Strange said, his voice calm, retreating into the persona of the proud, genius doctor once more. "My sister, Donna, drowned while I was in college. From that moment on, I was determined to use these hands to prevent tragedies like that from ever happening again."

He paused before continuing. "But now, Victor has died in front of me, and once again, I was powerless to stop it."

Strange looked up at Christine, his eyes red from crying, and raised his hands in front of him. "These 'hands of God'... Are they actually the hands of death?"

Christine sighed and said, "We can't control everything, Strange. Treating patients is why we become doctors, but I've always believed that while we treat diseases, we also end up treating our own suffering as doctors."

Strange listened quietly, his hands dropping into his lap as the pain of not being able to control fate weighed heavily on him once again.

"If only I could turn back time," he muttered, staring at his hands. "If these hands... if they could use magic..."

He trailed off, but Christine understood the thought lingering in his mind.

After a few moments of silence, Strange looked up again and asked Christine, "Did the two people who helped bring Victor here leave any information?"

Suddenly, he remembered the girl who had given Victor first aid and the boy who had slapped him.

"No, they left right after, but they're likely patients here at the hospital," Christine replied. She had spoken briefly with Peter and knew he was a patient of Dr. Ryan.

As for Gwen's information, Christine had paid attention to her after the fire at Midtown High School. She had been brought to the hospital following the tragedy, and Christine had kept track of her since.

But she was surprised that Peter Parker knew Gwen.

"Peter Parker?" Strange repeated the name Christine had given him. He touched his cheek, where Peter had slapped him.

His cheek still ached, and the memory of Peter's eyes and the slap left a deep impression on him.

"Does he know me?" Strange wondered aloud. "Why did I see something so unsettling in his eyes?"

Confused, Strange was lost in thought.

*Later that night.*

Inside the main laboratory of Oscorp Enterprises.

Norman Osborn stood in the lab, anxiously answering his phone.

"I told you not to disturb me when I'm in the lab!" he snapped at the lawyer on the other end of the call. "Tell that idiot there's no room for negotiation, none at all."

Norman tightened his tie, his voice growing angrier. "No, now that he's interrupted me, don't blame me for disturbing him in return. As a competitor, he should understand that risk!"

With an abrupt *click*, Norman hung up.

Having dealt with the company's affairs, he turned his attention back to the equipment and scientists working in the lab.

Oscorp was currently researching a chemical called the "Human Enhancement Formula," and the project had reached a critical stage. Norman's mood had grown more and more irritable.

"This invention is crucial to the country's economic future—and to the company's survival," he muttered to himself.

He called over the lead scientist and asked, "How's the project progressing?"

"We're nearing the stage of human trials, Mr. Osborn. Everything's proceeding smoothly."

"Good. Remember, we don't have much time."

After adjusting his tie and issuing a few final instructions, Norman left the laboratory.

As he entered the corridor, his phone buzzed with a new email.

He glanced at the screen—it was the report he had requested on the Midtown High School football game tragedy.

The media had claimed the fire had been caused by a circuit malfunction, but Norman knew better. With so many witnesses having seen a "spider monster" killing people, he knew the truth couldn't be as simple as the government suggested.

The email contained detailed accounts of the event, including eyewitness testimonies from several students.

"Peter Parker was there too?" Norman muttered as he frowned at the name.

It seemed he would have to keep an eye on Harry's seemingly unremarkable classmate.

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