But… It’s me! The real Spider-Man!

Not caring about the fate of the panicked and wounded, I head for the control panel. Having started the command systems, I find out that during the brief battle what is left of the "God" has finally disintegrated. Its constituent parts are still functional, thanks to the mechanisms that keep them pseudo-living, but the whole system is gone. I manually trigger the self-destruct protocols of both the system and the entire complex.

An untimely siren goes off and a pleasant male baritone on the loudspeakers informs me that the complex will be destroyed in thirty minutes and that all staff members should leave immediately. But all the exits are securely blocked, and they cannot be opened without me. Only I decide who will live and who will die. And that choice is not so simple. Some part of me demands retribution. "There are no innocents here! - screams this voice," everyone in this goddamn complex deserves to die!" This, of course, is true. Everyone who worked here knew the nature of the project, the thousands sacrificed on the altar of the Two-Minute God, not to mention the fact that most of the locals came from Hydra or simply had a criminal record even before they were recruited. But it's not about them, it's about me. I'm not saying that if I kill all these people I'll be like them-that's bullshit. What really matters is: they're more useful alive than dead. Yes, that's the best way for me to do it.

I upload the data about the project and the remaining apostles to the network storage, and then cancel the undermining of the entire complex. It is enough to destroy the system, the death of these people will bring me nothing but dubious moral satisfaction. It would not be possible to completely hide everything that happened here and my participation in it, even if I kill everyone trapped. The data on the project and the criminals captured in the locked complex will serve to my advantage in the near future. Instead of total extermination, I launch a sleeping gas through the ventilation system, the same colorless and odorless one they used to put the children to sleep in the school. It will keep my prisoners in a solid hold for a while, and I am no longer in any danger myself.

I am distracted from thinking by a noise behind me: a measured, intermittent knocking, as if a large animal scratched the floor with its claws with every step. Is it...

I turn around.

Yeah, I didn't see that one coming. The transformation wasn't over yet, but the claws on her legs and arms were already showing. And, of course, her face. The regenerated part of the body transforms the fastest. As a result, half of Brennan's face is already covered in tiny green scales, while the rest is still human.

"You and I aren't done yet," a forked tongue protruded from her mouth, which was distorted by the irregular transformation.

Without separating word from deed, Daisy throws up her arms, which have already begun to bulge with animal muscles, and shoots a web of my own web-shooters at me. That's right, she took them before she put me under the knife.

The cobwebs fly in a wide cone. Apparently Brennan was able to figure out the configuration of the web-shooters herself. I almost make it out of the kill zone in time, but the edge of the web clings to my jeans. For a few moments, but it holds me up, and Brennan takes advantage of the delay to demonstrate another webbing trick from my old arsenal. Stretching the elastic threads, she launches herself like a living projectile.

I have to fall to the floor to avoid a collision, but she still manages to slice her claws into my chest, tearing the shirt I borrowed from the technician and the flesh beneath it.

Brennan slammed into the remote control with a deafening crash, and I bounced aside, shaking off the cobwebs.

"It's impressive," I grinned, running my hand over the wound on my chest, "I see you've had time to play with my toys, even learned a few tricks... but it's still not enough."

The Lizard's claws tore the muscles, but they couldn't damage the ribs. And the cuts... they are nearly healed. The reptile, already almost completely transformed, crawled out of the wreckage. The new injuries had accelerated her transformation into a monster.

"What have you done to-with yourself?" Brennan hissed, watching as the wound on my chest rapidly regenerated.

"I'd say I've made myself better, but that's the kind of thing villains are supposed to say."

"You're going to die here anyway!" She snarls with animal fury and dashes back into the fray.

I dodge her blows at first. It's not hard, once transformed the Lizard's movements in battle are controlled by instinct, so they're quite predictable. Especially for someone who's not only fought the Lizard many times, but has been in its skin himself.

Once again I ducked under the Reptilian's swing and struck it back. It's not sophisticated, a fist to the ribs, like Wilson taught me, but the effect is beyond my expectations-I manage to knock the Reptilian carcass back a dozen feet.

I feel numerous tears in my own muscles after this blow, but it cannot even be called discomfort. Regeneration greatly increases my pain threshold and my attitude toward pain. What would have made me howl in pain before would not make me grin now. All the more reason to regenerate such injuries instantly.

The reptile quickly regains its senses, its distinctive ability to heal itself, and rushes into battle again. But this time I don't avoid a confrontation. Determined to test my limits, I block the clawed paw with my left hand, having to glue my feet to the floor to keep me from being knocked off. For a moment we both froze, not yet fully believing what had happened, but... I really can do this. I'm stronger than Reptile. Much stronger.

I am not restraining my smug smile, and I go on the offensive. My blows shake her whole transformed body. Time after time, bones break and heal... damn, it's too easy. It wasn't intended by me, but the interplay between the healing factor and the spider powers is magnificent. The inexhaustible energy and the ability to make the most of that energy... awesome. It is impossible to believe that something would happen that would deplete this seething energy, the eagerness that fills all my movements. A reptile is no more dangerous to me now than an ordinary human. Except regeneration-I don't have time to wait until it's depleted to the point where it can't regenerate. Once more I make Brennan fall on his belly, and then I grab her by the base of her skull. Let's test the limits of your regeneration, though I already know them.

The reptile roars in agony, but it can't break free, its wounds not yet healed-it's helpless and completely at my mercy. I put my foot on the creature's shoulder, tearing the vertebral column from its body with frightening ease, and then separating its head from its torso altogether.

It's unlikely it can regenerate now, but just to be sure, I drag the remains to the furnace where my body was dumped earlier and burn what's left of Daisy Brennan.

That's it for sure now. I've killed more people today than I have in my entire career as Spider-Man... an ugly feeling. But I'm not going to repent of what I've done. Besides, it's not time to relax; I still have a lot of unfinished business.