Chapter 1
Deep beneath New York, in an abandoned train station, in a place that railroad maps and construction plans don't show anywhere since its existence was forgotten when the New York subway expansion project was abandoned. There is a small laboratory with cutting-edge technology. There was no record of its construction or its financing. The underground laboratory had 3 rooms, which each could only be accessed through a door that connected the previous room. The first room from the outside appeared to be, at first glance, an abandoned security office, with dusty monitors and a moldy desk. On the other side of the door at the back of said room, there were computers and processors decades more advanced compared to current commercial technology. Inside the third room was a solitary gestation tank with a perfect clone, or rather, a body genetically engineered to contain both Peter Parker's and Otto Octavius's DNA. All the machines were running at optimal performance with minimal energy to operate. The only light in the 3 rooms was given off by a digital timer
If a person were to analyze said clock, they would notice that it was not a clock like the ones sold in the supermarket, it had no brand, and no other function apart from counting 6 whole months. This timer was connected directly to the computers in the second room, which had started counting down from 6 months ago. The moment had finally arrived when the screen marked the numbers: 0:00:00:00:03, 0:00:00:00:02, 0:00:00:00:01, 0:00:00: 00:00.
The screens of the machines flickered and began the routine that the entire laboratory had been set up for in the first place: it had been 6 months since the news had stopped mentioning the superior Spider-Man. That meant that Otto Octavius, the superior Spider-Man had died, and New York was defenseless. something that could not be accepted. The gestation chamber had served its purpose, the amniotic fluids drained down the drain, the visor that was also connected to the clone's mind had successfully downloaded the memories of the superior spiderman. The gas mask and visor came off the perfect body that contained the mind of Otto Octavius, he opened his eyes and without waiting he broke the glass of the gestation tube that contained him with a single punch. The oxygen burned his skin, his eyes were blinded when he opened his eyes, his hearing indicated the trains several levels above, but his spider sense told him he was safe.
He took several long breaths in his new lungs. As if he had come out of the water after almost drowning. With his new muscles he crawled to the first room where the monitors went up and turned on a coffee maker. The aroma was familiar, his brain remembered several sensations. It was like stretching atrophied muscles.
Getting used to his new muscles Otto stretched each one at the same time as his eyes got used to the artificial light. Once he considered it finished, he naturally went to the coffee maker and after pouring himself a cup of coffee, then he went to the monitor.
- It worked. Well, it doesn't impress me too much, but it does surprise me that someone was able to eliminate the superior Spider-Man, which indicates that the world must have gone through a terrible devastation or I had to sacrifice myself to save the world from a quasi-divine power. It would be better to investigate and prepare for the worst.
He connected to the internet, it was a good sign, the world was still there, he looked in the newspapers for the last mentions of "superior Spider-Man" to find out what his end was and what to do about it, but what he read terrified him, the world knew who was the superior Spider-Man. They knew his true identity; Otto Octavius. How was it possible that everything fell apart? Otto read all the newspapers that talked about him, since he left this backup body after his fight against the inheritors. Her achievements that were recorded by the press were small, minuscule compared to her previous work, but it was certainly an impeccable streak, then he saw his destiny. he fought against a corrupted version of Norman Osborn, but had he returned to his old body? No. It was impossible. That body had died a long time ago. Another clone? No. It was not possible. There was no viable sample of his DNA without the flaws that had been caused by the radiation, he had so many doubts but the newspapers only gave the general idea. He had to go with the only person in the world who he truly trusted
He dressed in his second skin; His superhero suit, plus some civilian clothes on top. As he left the abandoned train stations that functioned as his secreto lair, he was greeted by the aroma of New York; its characteristic fried food, exhaust pipes, garbage and marijuana smell had not changed, the pedestrians were still immersed in their own worlds or cell phones. Spiderman continued to swing in the sky. Otto smiled as he saw Peter in the sky, protecting his territory, or so it seemed. The suit looked like the original but with black instead of blue, and that way of swinging was not Peter Parker's, it was obvious that the sidekick kid graduated to being Spiderman. Without a doubt, Miles could be the standard-bearer for a new generation... someday, possibly. This spider-boy had to prove if he had what it took. For the moment, he could keep the title. Oddly enough, it was not his priority.
Walking around New York as a simple civilian was one of the worst experiences he remembered. Usually, he used his tentacles or less a orthodox means of transportation. Lately, he preferred to swing, it was an activity that fulfilled several functions at the same time: In addition to transporting him from point A to point B, it also kept him in good shape, he Also patrolled the city, reminded the scum of the streets of his presence, and had fun. Damn, how he used to have fun. But now, by an external force, he was forced to use the subway again. While it was the most efficient means of transportation, it was also the most smelly and dirty. Otto's restless mind began to sketch out a much more efficient train system until he arrived half an hour later at his destination. A sudden attack of adrenaline made his heart race and his hands sweat, in short, he was afraid. Afraid of what was on the other side of the door. Another would have hesitated, but knocked on the door anyway. The idea of fleeing hammered his mind but he stood firm.
The door had no peephole, it made no sense for His ubiqué owner, which led Otto to think that the occupant had modified the apartment door to suit her convenience.
The door opened and Otto felt that the right thing to do would be to uncover the hood of his sweatshirt that covered part of his face. The owner of the apartment looked him up and down with her bright blue eyes
-Otto?
-anna maria… It’s been a long time.