The Green Goblin hung in the air like a demon toying with human souls, forcing Peter into a cruel, twisted version of the trolley dilemma.
No matter what he chose, someone would die because of him.
That was the Goblin's way, sadistic, theatrical, merciless.
"Make your choice, Spider-Man!"
The Goblin didn't even give Peter time to think. His manic voice cracked through the wind as he opened both hands.
Mary Jane and the cable car full of children plummeted at the same time.
"Ahhhh, !"
Mary Jane's scream tore through the night, loud enough to drown out the terrified cries of the kids below.
Peter didn't hesitate. His instincts took over. He shot out a web, dove off the bridge, and caught Mary Jane mid-fall.
Then, with barely a breath's pause, he fired another web upward, his body swinging in a sharp arc as he snatched a hold of the snapping cable, his muscles straining as the weight of the entire cable car jerked against him.
He'd done it. He'd broken the Goblin's game.
His answer to the dilemma was simple, he'd save them all.
The crowd on the bridge erupted in cheers.
But up above, the Goblin's smile twisted in rage.
This was supposed to be a single-choice question!
Enraged, the Green Goblin lunged forward on his glider, slamming a steel-clad fist straight into Peter's face.
Peter had one hand gripping his web, the other the cable, he couldn't dodge. The punch hit full force, sending him swinging wildly over the abyss.
Pain shot through his jaw, stars dancing in his vision. But he didn't let go.
If he did, those children would plummet into the river, and there'd be no saving them.
The situation was getting desperate.
Suspended midair, Peter was an easy target. The Goblin's attacks came in relentless waves, and Mary Jane's panicked shrieks beside him weren't helping his focus.
If things kept going like this, they'd all end up dead.
Unless he let go. If he released the web, maybe he and Mary Jane could survive the fall.
But Spider-Man wouldn't do that. He couldn't.
Seeing the Goblin dive in again, Peter braced himself, jaw clenched, ready to take the next hit head-on.
...
A deafening boom split the night.
The Goblin's incoming punch never landed. A missile detonated behind him, the shockwave hurling him and his glider backward like a ragdoll.
Smoke and sparks burst across the skyline.
Oscorp's tech was top-grade though, the armor held, scorched but intact.
"Who dares?!"
The Goblin righted himself midair, fury blazing behind his mask,
And froze.
There, hovering across from him, was another figure, wearing the exact same armor.
Same glider, same deep green plating gleaming in the city lights.
The Goblin blinked. "Who the hell are you?!"
The newcomer's voice came cold and calm. "I'm the Green Goblin."
The Goblin: "???"
You're the Green Goblin? Then who the hell am I?!
The mimic didn't need to introduce himself, underneath that matching armor was Darren.
The very same "borrowed" Oscorp equipment he'd swiped months ago was now back in action.
Unlike Tony's armor, which was buried under layers of encrypted locks, Oscorp's tech had no security protocols, wear it, fly it, kill with it. Easy.
And so Darren had decided, why not become the Green Goblin too?
To be fair, the glider was an incredible ride. The freedom of soaring across the skyline was intoxicating. He was already planning another "shopping trip" to Oscorp's labs when this was over.
...
The real Goblin caught on fast. His eyes narrowed in recognition.
He remembered the theft, the stolen prototypes, the lost exosuits, the missing glider units.
So this was the thief.
"You!" he roared, veins bulging. "You're the damn thief who stole my work!"
His fury burned hotter than the jet flames beneath him. He hated nothing more than those who stole his genius, the same kind of parasites who'd tried to sell off his company, his life's work!
"I don't care who you are! You die tonight!"
The Goblin dove, glider howling, twin barrels unfolding from beneath the wings.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
Bullets filled the air in a hailstorm of metal.
Darren yanked his glider up, twisting into a sharp S-turn, evading the gunfire by inches.
The night lit up with streaks of muzzle flash and tracer fire.
"Don't think you can run!"
The Goblin's voice cracked as he unleashed another salvo,
A dozen micro-missiles flared to life beneath his glider, streaking toward Darren like fiery serpents.
But Darren didn't flinch.
His own glider, the same make, same model, sprang to life beneath him, launching its own spread of missiles in perfect counterfire.
The sky exploded.
Boom! Boom! BOOM!
Shockwaves rippled through the air, the night over Queens igniting with thunder and flame.
Fireballs burst like fireworks, lighting the city skyline in flickering orange.
Down below, the crowd stared, necks craned, jaws open.
Everyone's eyes were glued to the two emerald silhouettes battling in the air, forgetting entirely that Spider-Man was still dangling beneath the bridge, arms straining, holding up a cable car and one very loud redhead.
Peter's muscles screamed. His grip was slipping.
And Mary Jane? Still shrieking non-stop right in his ear.
He swore his eardrums were seconds from bursting. God bless the theater department, her lungs were Olympic-level.
Someone on the bridge finally shouted, "Hang in there, Spider-Man! The NYPD is on the way!"
Peter's heart sank further.
No one knew better than him how slow NYPD could be. If he was counting on them, they'd all be dead before the sirens even started.
...
High above, the duel between the two "Goblins" only grew fiercer.
"Try this on for size!"
The real Goblin hurled several pumpkin bombs, orange and glowing.
They didn't explode immediately. Instead, each one split midair, sprouting razor-edged wings like metallic bats, and streaked toward Darren with impossible speed.
He maneuvered hard, but they followed, curving through the air like guided missiles.
Darren pulled out two golden Desert Eagles, leveling them with a grin.
The weapons flashed in his hands, metal meeting metal, sparks showering across the sky.
Bang! BOOM!
One pumpkin bomb detonated midair, torn apart by a single, perfect shot.
Then another. And another.
In the space of a heartbeat, Darren blasted every remaining bomb into fiery confetti.
He twirled his pistols once and aimed them squarely at the Goblin.
"Your turn."
He pulled the triggers.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The bullets tore through the night, glowing faintly against the explosion-lit clouds.
The Goblin didn't even bother to dodge,
His armor had survived missiles, for God's sake. What could a few bullets do?
Then the first shot hit.
The next one followed.
Every bullet punched straight through the armor as if it were paper, embedding deep into his flesh.
"AAAAH!"
The Goblin screamed, disbelief twisting his face beneath the mask.
"What kind of tech is that?!"
Darren's smirk widened as he raised his still-smoking guns.
"Not tech," he said calmly. "Magic."
The Goblin's jaw dropped behind his mask.
Magic?
That was the last thing he expected to hear, right before another bullet gleamed through the firelight.