Wilson Fisk sat in his luxurious office, staring at the massive display screen showing the wreckage of the Spider Slayers.
Every single one of them had been destroyed within a minute.
Not a single bot had landed a lethal blow.
That was millions of dollars in advanced technology gone in seconds.
Yet, he wasn't angry.
Instead, he was intrigued.
His thick fingers tapped against his chair's armrest as he watched the replay. Slowed down, frame by frame.
"This is no ordinary hero."
They had assumed Spider-Man was just another mutant or enhanced human with some spider-related powers.
But now?
"Magic."
Fisk's eyes gleamed as he leaned forward.
Spider-Man had used abilities that defied traditional science.
His tech had evolved—mid-battle, even. That wasn't normal.
"He's getting smarter. He's improving. He's becoming a problem."
A foe that keeps adapting was dangerous.
Unlike those other costumed idiots running around, Spider-Man was actually learning.
That made him a threat worth studying.
Failure and a New Order
Behind him, Professor Stryder stood, visibly shaken.
He had been so sure of his creations.
And yet, his "ultimate Spider Slayers" had been fodderized.
"Sir, I beg your forgiveness for this failure…"
Fisk slowly turned his massive body to face him.
There was no visible anger—no outburst, no threats.
Instead, he smirked.
"Relax. There was a lack of data on the enemy. Now, you have learned something new. Take it into consideration for the next version of the Slayers."
Stryder's heart skipped a beat.
He had expected rage.
But instead—Kingpin wanted to try again?
Then came the real bombshell.
"And this time… I want you to capture him."
Capture?
Stryder's breath hitched.
Killing was one thing.
But capturing someone like Spider-Man—who had just dismantled an entire army of machines in seconds—was on an entirely different level of difficulty.
But he couldn't refuse.
Nobody refused Kingpin.
"Sir, it will take longer this time. Finding a way to counter those abilities and making adjustments will be time-consuming."
Fisk waved his hand dismissively.
"You have a month."
A month?
That was insane.
But Stryder nodded.
"Yes, sir."
He had no choice.
Then Fisk added one last demand.
"This time, make it compact. Humanoid. And give it flight capabilities."
Stryder's mind raced.
A humanoid? Flight? Was he asking for an Iron Man rip-off?
"Like an Iron Man?"
Fisk turned back to the screen, watching Spider-Man disappear into the night.
"Yes. Like Iron Man. But without the man."
His voice was calm.
"Give it access to our combat A.I. No mortal should be able to win against it."
Stryder swallowed hard.
"As you wish."
Without another word, he left.
He needed to work. Fast.
Because failure?
Failure meant death.
Wilson Fisk was not a common thug.
He was Kingpin.
A man of strategy. Of power. Of vision.
He never relied on just one method.
If the Spider Slayers failed?
He had a backup plan.
If Plan B failed?
There was always a Plan C.
And right now?
He was about to reshape the battlefield—again.
Fisk sat in his private chamber, staring at the vials of a deep green serum swirling in a high-tech containment unit.
A modified version of Dr. Connors' formula.
A serum that turned men into Lizard-like monsters.
But Fisk?
He didn't want just one Lizard.
"Start working on the serum."
His scientists froze, listening carefully.
"I want to use it soon—without the transformation.
They exchanged nervous glances.
"And don't forget to make three versions.
Fisk's massive grin widened.
"One for a berserk army of these Lizards."
"One for superior Lizards—with intellect."
"And one for me."
Silence.
His scientists stiffened.
"Y-You want to take it yourself?"
Fisk turned, his smile fading into a cold, calculating stare.
"Did I stutter?"
The room went deathly silent.
Then—
"Y-Yes, sir!"
The scientists scattered, about to leave when he raised his hand for them to stop.
"Replace the base of the serum."
The scientists paused, waiting for his next words.
"The Lizard formula is Weak. I want something… grander."
His massive frame leaned forward, casting a shadow over the room.
"A dragon."
The room fell silent.
"Sir… a dragon?"
"Yes. And not just any dragon but the strongest. Use the resources available and bring out whatever you need. Experiment. Create different types of serums."
"I want variations. Some for power. Some for durability. Some for adaptability."
"And for me… I want the ultimate form."
The scientists gulped, writing everything down.
Phase 1: Dragon Physiology
Replace the lizard base with dragon DNA.
Gain immense strength, durability, fire resistance, and raw power.
Achieve scaly armor-like skin—superior to any bulletproof material.
Phase 2: Enhancements
Quicksilver's DNA → Grant superhuman speed & reflexes.
Deadpool's DNA → Provide instant regeneration.
Phase 3: The Final Evolution
Implant Celestial DNA.
Achieve immortal power, cosmic energy manipulation, and nearly unlimited regeneration.
Become something beyond human. Beyond mutant. Beyond monster.
Fisk clenched his massive fists, imagining the power coursing through his veins.
"I will not just rule New York."
"I will rule the world."
He turned to his scientists.
"Start immediately. I want results. Fast."
His smile widened, dark and full of ambition.
"Once this is done… no one will stand above me."
Not Spiderman.
Not Osborn.
Not even the Avengers.
Sitting down Fisk poured himself a glass of whiskey, swirling it slowly.
He wasn't the only king in this city.
There was another.
Norman Osborn.
His rival. His enemy. His equal.
'I have made my move. So he should be making his now.'
Fisk smirked.
It was always a game between them.
A game of power. Of war. Of evolution.
If he was making an army of Super Lizards—
Then Norman?
The Goblin King was sure to answer.
"Let's see how much the Goblin Army has improved."
He took a slow sip, savoring the taste.
Then, he turned to his top enforcers.
"Prepare Electro, Omega Red, and Silvermane. No matter what the result."
His voice was absolute.
"This city is about to burn."
Then, he got up, stretching his massive frame.
It had been a long day.
But this was just the beginning.
Tomorrow?
The real war would begin.
Peter Parker stood behind Reed Richards, watching as the scientist initiated the video call. The screen flickered to life, revealing the calm and knowing face of Professor Charles Xavier. His serene expression was one of wisdom, experience, and a deep understanding of the world's struggles.
Reed offered a warm smile.
"Hello, Charles. I hope you're doing well these days."
Xavier returned the gesture, his eyes taking in both Richards and the unexpected presence of Spider-Man standing behind him.
"Hello, Reed. I must say, I'm surprised you called. But yes, we're doing fine—thanks in no small part to your efforts."
There was mutual respect between the two men. Though the Fantastic Four weren't officially mutants, the radiation that had granted them their powers had also unlocked something within their DNA—placing them in an unusual category that aligned them more closely with mutantkind than they often admitted.
Richards and his team had been instrumental in advocating for mutants, using their fame and influence to push for their acceptance as part of humanity rather than as an entirely separate species.
However, progress was slow. Mutants still faced prejudice, and while some groups sought peace, others—both mutant supremacists and fearful extremists—continued to sow division.
Xavier exhaled softly, folding his hands together.
"It's quite late, and I doubt you'd call without a purpose. So, how can I help?"
Reed chuckled, "Yes, normal people like us need our beauty sleep."
Peter smirked at the joke, but remained quiet.
Reed quickly got to the point.
"My friend here has come seeking assistance. He's looking for a humanoid lizard creature in the city—formerly a man named Dr. Curt Connors."
With a press of a button, an image of the Lizard appeared on the screen, an eerie and detailed sketch provided by Peter himself.
Xavier examined the image without much surprise. In his line of work, cases like this—scientific mishaps leading to monstrous transformations—were practically routine.
"I see… another one."
There was no judgment in his voice. Just understanding.
Xavier nodded thoughtfully, "I can locate him. But, my young friend, I will require something in return."
Peter tilted his head slightly.
"What kind of favor?"
A smile played on Xavier's lips.
"Nothing too drastic. Simply this: when the opportunity arises, help my students."
Peter blinked, then crossed his arms.
"I'd help them regardless, as long as they're in the right."
Xavier let out a small chuckle, "Good answer, child. You are more than welcome at my institution if you ever wish to visit. The children would love to meet you."
Peter's posture relaxed slightly.
"Thanks for the invitation. I'd love to come by sometime."
Xavier nodded approvingly.
As the conversation settled, the underlying tension of the mutant situation lingered in the air.
Despite all their efforts, prejudice was still very much alive.
The situation was complex. Unlike superheroes—who kept their powers hidden or used them only in battle—mutants lived openly as they were.
And that terrified people.
To the average human, mutants weren't just heroes or villains—they were walking threats.
Dangerous. Uncontrollable.
How could society feel safe when people with superhuman abilities walked among them without oversight?
And yet, that fear was the very thing that drove the divide further.
Xavier understood this better than anyone. He knew change would take time.
And time was something mutants didn't always have.
For now, however, he focused on the task at hand.
He turned his gaze back to Peter.
"I will begin the search immediately."
A flicker of relief crossed Peter's face.
"Thank you, Professor."
The call ended, and Peter exhaled, knowing that at least one piece of his puzzle was falling into place.
But as he stood in the Baxter Building, unaware of the schemes unfolding elsewhere, he had no idea that a far greater storm was brewing.
A storm that would shake the entire city.
Despite all their efforts to bridge the gap between mutants and humans, one undeniable truth remained—mutants were feared.
Not just because they were different.
Not just because they were powerful.
But because when a mutant awakened, there was always a chance of death.
It had happened before.
There was a town—that no longer existed.
A quiet, peaceful place, filled with families, children, and ordinary people just living their lives.
Then, one day, a child's X-Gene awakened.
No one knew his name. No one ever would.
Because the moment his mutation triggered, his power erupted in an uncontrolled wave of destruction.
Everyone died.
Every person. Every animal. Every plant. Everything.
Not even their bones remained.
One moment, a thriving community.
The next? Nothing but an empty town.
The X-Men had tried to investigate but they could do nothing to help the child except kill him because his power caused every living thing to disintegrate in seconds.
This was why humans feared mutants.
Not just because of powerful figures like Magneto or the Brotherhood of Mutants.
Not just because of political propaganda.
But because any child, at any time, could awaken an ability beyond control—one that could wipe out a city, a nation, or even the world.
It was not just paranoia.
It had already happened.
Even now, there were cases—stories buried by governments, covered up to avoid global panic.
Even the X-Men themselves were clear cut examples of this problem, as Jean Grey had also almost destroyed the neighborhood in her childhood.
So how could ordinary people live in peace when a single unknown variable could mean the end of everything they loved?
It wasn't fair.
But fear rarely is.
And so, no matter how many heroes fought for peace, no matter how many mutants proved themselves as good, kind, and just, this shadow of fear would never truly fade.