Date: Wednesday, October 13, 2010.

  Location: Oscorp, Manhattan, New York

  The sun was just beginning to set over the Manhattan skyline as Tyson stepped through the gss doors into the headquarters of Oscorp that Wednesday evening. It had been over a week sincle Ben's tragic passing. Tyson knew he couldn't let himself fall into depressed ina. So here he was, badge clipped ly to his belt, walking into his internship as usual, unaware of the chaos that awaited within.

  The momeered the lobby, Tyson sensed something was amiss. Security guards paced with stiff urgency, their brows furrowed with evident . Stists chatted in small groups, looking sadder than Tyso. The mood was decidedly grim. Everyone seemed to be carrying a heavy weight, their shoulders slumped and their faces drawn.

  Except one stist who stood out as he headed through the lobby on his way home.

  He walked with an uling spring in his step, a smile pying on his lips that seemed utterly disected from the palpable atmosphere of distress surrounding him. His attire was impeccable. He wore a tailored bck suit, under his b coat, that hugged his tall, lean frame. His skin ale, and his meticulously slicked-back hair was jet bck with the slightest hint of blue sheen uhe artificial lighting.

  Tyson approached this seemingly out-of-pce man. The ID badge pio the man's pel identified him as Dr. Stasis. The name wasn't familiar, but his st of electric ozone and dusty velvet with chemical uones was. It took a moment for Tyson to recall where he'd entered the smell before he realized it was during the field trip. Dr. Stasis must have been one of the stists w in the spider b.

  "Excuse me," Tyson interrupted, his deep voice carrying a mix of curiosity and . "Do you know what happeoday that has got everyone on edge?"

  Dr. Stasis turowards Tyson, and his smile widened as if he relished the opportunity to ret the day's events. "One of our stists was discovered dead this m," Dr. Stasis said in a tohat almost bordered on joviality. "And that's not all. Military hardware went missing, as did an experimental serum."

  Throughout his expnation, Dr. Stasis's eyes sparkled with an odd glee that seemed grotesquely out of pce giveure of his news. The cheerfulness in his voice was discerting as he described what would otherwise be sidered grave outes.

  Tyson furrowed his brow, fusiog lines across his forehead as he tried to recile the man's demeanor with the information he had just been given.

  "I see," Tyson mao say after a moment, still perplexed by Dr. Stasis's unusual happiness about such dire events. "Thank you for letting me know."

  "Oh, it's quite all right," Dr. Stasis replied with a dismissive wave of his hand as if discussing nothing more sequential than a ge in the weather. "Suts are simply... opportunities fress, wouldn't you agree?"

  Before Tyson could respond or inquire further, Dr. Stasis nodded curtly and tinued on his way out of Oscorp's lobby, leaving behind a trail of uling energy that seemed to linger in the air.

  Tyson watched him go, his mismatched eyes narrowing slightly as he pondered what kind of person found joy in such events. He shook off the unease creeping up his spine and turo begin his patrol through Oscorp.

  As Tysoured deeper into the building, fragments of hushed versation painted an increasingly dire picture. When Tyson mao catch a glimpse of the ransacked boratory itself, the story became clear. Tables were overturned, gss shattered across the floor, and ominous stains smeared on the walls.

  With his meta-knowledge, it was obvious to Tyson what had happened. Norman Osborn was a genius, but also a man driven by dangerous ambition and desperation. He had been on the brink of a breakthrough that promised to push human capabilities further and solidify lucrative military tracts. However, there were rising s about the safety and stability of the ued super soldier formu he'd been developing. Now, in the wake of death, destru, and Osborn's disappearaysohe weight of the dreadful realizatiole upon his chest.

  Osbored the unstable formu on himself. What had occurred in that b was born of his reckless transformation, a Jekyll and Hyde sario that could only spell disaster.

  The Green Goblin was ing.

  Tyson had thought that with the Lizard's rampage on the bridge, Osborn might not bee the Green Goblin, at least not yet. He wondered if he should do something, but he was caught in the grip of uainty, his mind ing with indecision. He had no real evideo turn in to the authorities to substantiate his suspis about Osborn's dangerous experimentation. He was sure others had already gohrough the security footage, but he would look it over with a fioothed b. Hopefully, there'd be some evidence, he couldn't just ht accuse Norman Osborn.

  But the thought of doing nothing, of leaving Osborn potentially out there along with the Lizard, was uable. Tyson was ner to feeling helpless, and the sting of it now, in the wake of Uncle Ben's death, oignant.

  He left Oscorp te that night, the lights of the city blurred as he rode, his mind troubled aless. He couldn't approach the authorities, he hadn't found any hard evidence, but he couldn't sit idle either while Osborn posed a menag threat. There had to be a way to mitigate the dahe reckless stist presented. He mulled over his options as buildings and streetlights slid past in the darkness. Even with the super soldier serum and the military tech he stole, Tyson should be able to stop Osborn before the Green Goblin was unleashed upoy. Tyson's brows furrowed in ption as he navigated the nighttime streets. Would preemptively taking out Osborn affect Peter's development as Spider-Man, and was letting a madman run around the city a fair trade-off for Peter's growth?

  — Rogue Rept —

  Tyson's m routine proceeded as usual, the hotel staff delivering a breakfast spread that he picked at between gatheribooks and double-cheg his backpack. As he jabbed at the power button on the room's television, ready to catch the m news, a familiar brash voice bred out, arresting his attention mid-bite.

  There on the s, in high-definition, was J. Jonah Jamesoor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle, his mustache bristling with indignation. Today Jameson's tirade seemed to be ratcheted up to a whole new level.

  "They're criminals, that's what they are!" Jameson bellowed, smming a ched fist onto his cluttered desk and sending papers jumping. "This city's being a pyground fintes with nard for the w, no atability!"

  A series of images fshed on the s beside the insed editor. Blurry shots and shaky video clips showed the chaos on the Brooklyn Bridge, cars ched and tossed aside like toys, the monstrous form of the Lizard looming rge...and then, himself. Tyson swallowed hard at the sight of the dinosaur-like creature he had transformed into.

  Jameson jabbed a fi the image on the s, his face torted in a sneer. "This one appeared out of nowhere, fighting what witnesses describe as a 'dinosaur'!" the editor bellowed, once again smming a fist onto his desk. "And during this so-called 'heroic' act, dozens of vehicles were destroyed, traffic disrupted for hours, and lives put at risk! There was a child, for heaven's sake, trapped in a car that nearly fell off the bridge during the melee!"

  The images on the s shifted to a shaky clip of Tyson in his reptilian form, engaged in a fierce battle with the Lizard. Debris and crushed cars littered the bridge around them. Then, as quickly as he had appeared, Tyson was go was a trick of the camera as the bystauro che the wailing child just as Tyson sprinted away.

  "And then, poof! Vanishes into thin air!" Jameson tinued his bulbous face reddening, voice dripping with disdain. "The locals are calling him 'Mirage.' Ha! More like a nightmare!"

  Tyson shifted unfortably in his seat. He had known there were cameras, cell phones... But seeing himself broadcast on national television was something else entirely. His scaly visage spyed across the ss like a wanted criminal.

  "Let me make this clear!" Jameson's eyes were alight with fervor, spittle flying. "This city does not need 'heroes' hiding behind masks or vanishing acts! We need w and order, atability, and responsibility! These vigintes, like this 'Mirage', they're a menace!"

  Tyson's appetite was gone as he stared down at his pte of food. He had tried to help, to do something good, but in the eyes of blowhards like J. Jonah Jameson, he was just another problem pguing the city. The injustice of it stung, though he supposed he shouldn't have expected more from such a caricature of a newsman.

  The television s split, dispying images of himself on one side and the fshy new Spider-Man oher. "Let's not fet about our wall-crawling menace, Spider-Man!" J. Jonah Jameson roared, spittle flying as his finger jabbed at the images. "He's just aninte causing chaos in our city, taking the w into his own hands! These masked hooligans are a pgue on our society!"

  Tyson's eyes were fixed on the red and blue figure dominating the other half of the s. Spider-Man had bee the talk of Midtown High retly, with many fasated by his gravity-defying stunts.

  The news segment transitioo shaky footage captured by enthralled bystanders, showg Spider-Man's agility as he effortlessly vaulted over rooftops and ricocheted between buildings. But it wasn't just acrobatics. There was an iy to his as, a personal motivation fueling his driven movements.

  The footage cut to a dingy alley, the camera unsteady as Spider-Man had a suspect pinned menagly against the brick wall. "Where is he?" Spider-Man hissed, his voice a fierce whisper. "The guy with the star tattoo on his wrist!" The thug frantically shook his head, and in an instant, Spider-Man was off again, a red and blue streak vanishing into the darkness.

  "He's not just patrolling," Tyson muttered under his breath, leaning forward ily as the ses pyed out. He reized that relentless iy. Spider-Maer, was hunting for the man who had killed his Uncle Ben, seeking tht his wrong or perhaps for revenge.

  The s cut baeson, the news anchor's smug expression one of vindication. "See? He's a menace!" Jameson procimed, jabbing an accusatory fi the s. "Provoking violence, instilling fear! This Spider-Man is a w unto himself, and it's only a matter of time before i people get caught in his web!"

  Tyson's fists ched at his sides, he tried not to let Jameson's infmmatory words reach him. But the man did have somewhat of a point. It was a reminder of the fine line he aer walked. Heroes only to some. Were they really that different from the criminals they fought if they embraced their raw drives? For Peter, right now, it was his rage ata.

  For Tyson, it was the morally questionable ways he used his powers since arriving in New York. This suite, the expensive clothes, the shiny new motorcycle parked in the underground garage, all of it was acquired by maniputing others. The slowly dwindling colle of gold he'd been spreading across the city's goldmongers had been stolen from the Federal Reserve, a whim at the time, that roving difficult to justify.

  Tyson slouched in his chair. The more he dwelled o events, the heavier the unease grew within him. He thought back to the chaos on the bridge, how he had intervened without hesitation to stop the Lizard's rampage and rescue that child trapped in the dangling car. That had been the right thing to do. So why did he feel this creeping doubt?

  Tyson moved to the suite's windoeered out at the sprawling cityscape before him. This was his fresh start, a ce to define himself on his own terms. He didn't have to be a hero, but he refused to bee a viliher, no matter how alluring that path might seem.

  With a frustrated sigh, Tyson grabbed the remote trol and switched off the TV, plunging the room into silence. Gng at the time on his phoyson realized he'd be te for school if he didn't hurry. Grabbing his backpack, he cast o flicted look at the bnk TV as he headed for the door, the echoes of Jameson's accusations haunting his steps. Down in the garage, Tyson swung his leg over his motorcycle, the engine rumbling to life beh him. As he sped off dowreet, doubts and questions swirled within him. Was Jamesht? Was he just a menace?

  — Rogue Rept —

  The atmosphere in the gym was filled with the chorus of exertion and the unmistakable tang of petition hanging heavy in the air. Thick ropes dangled from the lofty ceiling. Students shuffled into lines, at each rope. Their faces broadcast a spectrum of emotions; determination, apprehension, or ht dread.

  Tyson took his p line. Beside him stood Felicia Hardy, her distinctive shock of white hair seeming to radiate indifference, her attention apparently miles away from the gymnasium.

  "So," Tyson began, his tone casual to the point of aloofness, "how was yht?"

  Felicia's eyebrow arched slightly in the first aowledgment of his presehat m. "It went well," she replied evenly, her voice low and ced with an air of mystery that g to her like a sed skin. "Much like most of my nights."

  The er of Tyson's mouth twitched upward knowingly. He had witnessed Felicia just st week infiltrating Oscorp after dark. He wondered what secrets she pursued, what drove a girl like her to take such risks.

  "Been busy with that paper for css?" he ventured, watg her closely. "The one on cats?"

  The only cra Felicia's posure was her eyes narrowing a fra. "It's going," she said guardedly, though her tone hiherwise. "Lots of te nights spent researg."

  Tyson nodded, "Need any help?" he offered, infusing his words with genuine . He was signaling, as subtly as he could, that whatever she was caught up in, he was willing to assist.

  Felicia eyed him appraisingly, her crystalline blue gaze seemingly weighing him. "Maybe," she ceded after a moment, though her voice betrayed her unacedo accepting help. "I might take you up on that."

  Tyson tur the sound of Natalie Rushman's voice eg through the gym. Their PE instructor stood at the climbing ropes, her lithe yet muscur frame atuated by her form-fitting outfit. " up," she called, gesturing to the ropes.

  Tyson fshed Felicia a grin before striding to take his position. His strong hands gripped the coarse rope, and he began asding with the strength expected of his rge size. Reag the top in mere moments, he rang the bell overhead, its chime resonating proudly across the gym. As Tyson desded, trolled and fident, he found Felicia's gaze following his progress. Her eyes held a new glint of i.

  When Felicia took her turn, she approached the rope with lithe grace. Her slim form exuded athletic poise as she asded the rope with the effortless skill of a gymnast. At the top, she paused only briefly before beginning a swift and elegant dest.

  "Nearly as fast as Tyson," Natalie remarked approvingly, pitg her voice to carry. "I'd say it would be a atch if you two weo-head."

  Tyso Felicia's bright eyes, reading the challenge aement there. "I'm up for it if you are," he called back, infusing his words with pyful taunt.

  Felicia's answering smile held a glint of wicked charm. "You're on," she agreed, a petitive edge sharpening her melodic voice.

  Sensing the growing energy in the crowd, Tyson raised his voice to ensure all could hear his proposition. "But let's make it iing. If I wi together ter tonight… to work on some research," he emphasized meaningfully, holding Felicia's gaze. The crowd whooped at his suggestive tohough his true i was clear to Felicia alone.

  "And if I win?" she asked, unfazed by their audience.

  "I'll carry your books for a week," Tyson offered loudly, pying to the crowd.

  "You'll carry my books for a month? Deal," Felicia agreed, not allowing Tyson to resd her ged terms. Excitement buzzed through the gym at this agreemeweewo of the school's most popur but low-key students.

  The energy in the crowded gym was electric as Tyson and Felicia took their positions before the climbing ropes. Natalie, always oo and attention, stood with her whistle in hand. "Ready... Set..." she called out, her voice rising above the chatter. At the pierg shriek of the whistle, Tyson and Felicia uhemselves at the ropes.

  Tyson's muscur strength propelled him upwards as Felicia's fitness and agility allowed her to gain ground initially. The two climbers strained against gravity, muscles bulging. But Tyson's power quickly overtook Felicia's fihe gap between them widened decisively. Tyson's hand spped the bell in victory, its clear ringing tone reverberating through the gym.

  Ba solid ground, Felicia's chest heaved from exertion. She and Tyson faced each other. Felicia extended her hand in cession. "You won, fair and square," she aowledged between bored breaths. "I'll see you tonight."

  The crowd erupted in raucous cheers and shouts, the other students reveling in the public spectacle. Many of the boys looked on in jealousy at Tyson easily sg what they saw as a date with Felicia, while others reveled in his success while w what the evening might hold for them. Tyson and Felicia shared a knowing look, a silent uanding passiweeonight was not about a date; it was about unravelis and potentially about finding an ally.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Tyson walked down the polished linoleum hallway of Midtown High, approag the main office. The office was situated just off the main lobby, with a rge ter dividing the public space from the administrative area. Behind the ter were two secretaries statio desks equipped with puters, phones, and piles of paperwork.

  Tyson stepped up to the ter and offered a polite smile to the secretary who looked up at his arrival. " I help you?" she asked pleasantly.

  "Yes, one of my cssmates has been absent for several weeks, and I was hoping to find her address so I could drop off the notes she's missed," Tyson expined.

  The secretary returned his smile, though with an apologetic look in her eyes. "That's nice of you, but I 't give out your cssmates' addresses. Sorry."

  Tyson nodded in uanding. He had expected the refusal but thought it was worth a try. "I uand. I just wao check since she's been gone for a while. Her name is dy Moon."

  The secretary nodded, reition fshing across her features. "dy, yes. She was out sick, but her parents informed us that dy would be transferring. She won't be ing back to school, so you don't o worry about those notes." The secretary then asked kindly, "Was there anything else I help you with?"

  Tyson locked eyes with the secretary, fog his thoughts on weaving the illusion. His illusion spread silently, leaving no disible trace of its existence.

  The door to the office creaked open, and the school ered, her gaze falling on the secretary with whom Tyson was versing.

  "Excuse me," the nurse began, "my puter is down. you write down the taformation for a parent for me, please?" Her tone was urgent and brimming with . The secretary turo Tyson and said, "Excuse us, this is important." The directive hung in the air as Tyson made his exit from the office.

  The urgen the nurse's voice alpable as she requested the student's taformation. "The student's name is dy Moon," she said, her brows knitted with .

  The secretary's fingers ccked over the keyboard with practiced speed as she pulled up dy's records. Seleg a fluorest post-it note from the cluttered desk, she scribbled down the address and phone number before handing it to the nurse.

  "Thank you," the nurse replied gratefully, tug the o her pocket as she hurried from the office, focused wholly on tag dy's family.

  Tyson's lips curled into a sly smirk as he strode from the office, the door clig shut behind him. His deception with the nurse had yielded the desired results with little effort on his part. Hands shoved casually in his pockets, he meahrough the school halls and out the frorao where his motorcycle awaited.

  The engine roared to life beh him as he twisted the throttle, speeding off dowreet. Though he now had dy's address in hand, uainty g his mind. What would he say when he arrived at her doorstep?

  Her modest apartment building came into view, led amidst the quiet residential streets of Queens. His boots thudded heavily on the pavement as he crossed the street and climbed the crete steps leading inside. sulting the resident directory, Tyson's eyes sed the list of names before firming on the Moon's 3B.

  The stairwell was stark and utilitarian, his footfalls eg off the bare walls as he climbed. ing to a stop outside her door, Tysoated, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts before rapping his knuckles sharply against the faded wood. Silence greeted him initially, so he knocked again, harder this time.

  The sed knock at the door startled dy's mother, who had been sitting on the living room couch. She rose slowly, setting aside the framed photo of dy she'd been staring at, and shuffled to the door.

  Peering through the peephole, she saw a uniformed police officer standing in the hallway.

  With a slightly trembling hand, she unlocked the door and ope just a crack.

  "I'm Officer Smith from the NYPD," the officer introduced himself politely. "We're here to iigate the report of a missing person."

  dy's mother nodded mutely, her dark eyes wide with apprehension. "Show me your badge," she asked, needing the reassurahat he was truly with the police.

  Officer Smith promptly unclipped his badge from his belt and held it up to the cra the door.

  After scrutinizing it briefly, dy's mother closed the door to untch the . Taking a steadying breath, she pulled the door open fully to grant the officer entry.

  dy's mother etite Asian woman ie forties, with sleek bck hair pulled ba a simple ponytail. Though she stood at just over five feet tall, her posture was rigidly straight. Her cheekbones were high and elegant, but her face looked gaunt and pale, the dark circles under her eyes speaking to sleepless nights. She wore a simple gray cardigan and bck scks, her outfit but muted, much like her demeanor.

  Ushering Officer Smith inside, dy's mother csped her hands together tightly to still their trembling. "Please, e in," she invited in a soft voice ced with restrained panic.

  Officer Smith stepped inside and was greeted by the faint st of vender and jasmine. dy's mestured for him to sit and directed him to the sofa. "Thank you," he said, taking a seat. "The reason I'm here is we received an anonymous report that one dy Moon has not been attending school for a month," he began. "Normally that's something the school handles, more so than the police, but a missing perso was also filed with the department and I'm here to follow up."

  dy's mother nodded along as the officer spoke. "I'm sorry officer, but there's been a mistake," she said. "dy isn't missing. She was removed from school."

  "Removed?" Officer Smith asked, raising an eyebrow. "By whom?"

  "My self and my husband," dy's mother replied softly.

  "I uand," Officer Smith said, making a note on his pad. "Is she registered in a school in New York that we call to firm her registration?"

  dy's mother shook her head. "No, my husband took care of that. He lives out of the try. He enrolled her in a school where they live."

  Smith asked, "Would it be possible to speak with dy over the phone, just to firm she's safe, so I close this case?"

  dy's mother shifted in her seat, g and ung her hands in her p as Officer Smith pressed for more information. "I'm afraid that just won't be possible," she said, her voice strained. "The remote vilge they are staying in, in a, has no phone service at all."

  Officer Smith's eyebrows knit together. "I see," he said, making another hough his tone remained even, his probing questiorayed his skepticism.

  Sweat beaded on dy's mother's brow despite the cool temperature in the apartment. She dabbed at it with a crumpled tissue, buying time to think. "While I uand your position, officer, I simply ot provide what I do not have," she said carefully. "My husband handled all the arras. I'm sure once he returns stateside you sort this out."

  At the mention of the husband, Officer Smith leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "And when might that be, ma'am?"

  dy's mother averted her gaze. "Well, that's hard to say exactly..." she trailed off, wringing the damp tissue between her hands. "He travels quite extensively for work."

  Officer Smith's expression darkened. He tapped his pen on his notepad. "I'm going to need his taformation as well as his st known location," he said firmly. "Otherwise, I ot close this case until the child's safety is firmed."

  Panic fshed in dy's mother's eyes. "I'm not sure where he is currently," she admitted. "He has always been very secretive about his work. But I assure you, dy is perfectly safe." Her voice shook slightly despite her best efforts.

  dy's mazed into Officer Smith's mismatched eyes, one green and one blue. For a moment, her world narrowed just to his entrang orbs.

  "Where is dy?" Officer Smith asked again.

  Uhe hypnotic spell of Tyson's gaze, the truth spilled out. "dy's father took her to get help," she admitted softly.

  Officer Smith's brows drew together. "Took her where?"

  dy's mother twisted the damp tissue between her fingers. "I'm not sure exactly. One of his business associates said they could help dy."

  Leaning ba his chair, Officer Smith clicked his pen thoughtfully. "I see. And you haven't heard from your husband or dy sihey left?"

  She shook her head, eyes downcast. "No. He always kept me in the dark about his work. He said it was for my safety."

  "Why did dy need help?" Officer Smith prodded gently. "And who was this business associate?"

  Haltingly, dy's mother expined, "dy had been ag strangely. She got sick, and when she recovered, it was like she ossessed. She could walk on walls, had abnormal strength, and this odd substance leaked from her fiips." She took a shaky breath. "My husband called his associate, Edgar Lasbe. He runs a pharmaceutical pany. If anyone could help dy, it was someoh access to experimental treatments." A tear slipped down her cheek. "My husband took her to him, and I haven't heard from either of them since."

  Officer Smith studied her fatently. After a weighty pause, he closed his notebook and stood. "Thank you for your time, ma'am," he said coolly. "We'll be in touch if we require anything further."

  dy's mother nodded, relief washing over her. As Officer Smith turo leave, she called out "Please let me know if I provide anything else that would help put this matter to rest."

  He gnced back, fareadable. "You t on that," he said before stepping out the door.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Tyson and Natalie circled each other slowly, bamboo swords at the ready. The slender lengths of bamboo were deceptively harmless in appearance, but Tyson knew from experiehat a solid strike would deliver a painful sting. The air between them was electric with tension, both physical and versational.

  As always when they sparred, Natalie wore form-fitting workout clothes that atuated her lithe figure. "So," she said, breaking the anticipatory silence, "what was that little show in gym css earlier about? Was Felicia the mysterious voi the pho week?" Her tone was light, but her gaze ierg as she searched Tyson's face.

  Tyso her probing look with a rexed yet alert stance, ready to rea an instant. "That wasn't Felicia on the phone," he responded evenly, "and that still wasn't my girlfriend." The er of his mouth quirked in a subtle, teasing smile.

  Their dance tinued, bamboo meeting bamboo as they exged blows. Each strike was met with a deft parry in a rhythmic sequehat was almost musical. They were evenly matched, her able to gain an advantage over the other.

  Natalie pressed on as they sparred, her voice casual yet insistent. "Is that your type then? A pent for mysterious girls in bck?"

  At her words, an image fshed unbidden in Tyson's mind. Natalie, or rather Natasha, her form a dark SHIELD bodysuit. The image, pulled from his meta knowledge, was a vivid reminder of how dangerous she could be, a how good she looked in bck. Tyson's smile broadened, a spark of mischief dang in his eyes as he looked pointedly at Natalie. "Maybe I do," he responded, leaving his look and his meaning up to her interpretation.

  Her eyes narrowed, accepting the challenge in his look. In a flurry of motion, she attacked. Her strikes were a tempest that would have overwhelmed any normal oppo. But Tyson was far from normal. He could see the path of each strike, his enhanced senses mapping out a web of evasion and parries.

  Yet he held back, letting orike slip through his defehe bamboo eg with a resounding thwack against his shoulder.

  "Ow!" Tyson yelped, the sound exaggerated more for show than actual pain. He rubbed the spot theatrically, attempting to maintain the facade even as her sharp gaze saw through his act.

  Natalie halted her barrage, rexing her posture slightly as her face wore her uanding. "You're holding back," she stated pinly, the accusation hanging in the air between them, heavy with unspoken implications.

  Tyso her gaze steadily, her firming nor denying her cim. They were both hiding in pin sight, that much was clear. And in that unspoken uanding, there was a kind ile trust betweewo.

  "Notice that, did you?" Tyson's voice was a cheeky blend of challenge and amusement as he locked eyes with Natalie, the glint in his gaze belying his exaggerated nonce. "I admit, I have been holding back. Because I know something you don't know..." He trailed off, pausing for dramatic effect as a grin spread across his face. "I'm nht-handed."

  With a flourish b orical, Tyson switched his bamboo sword to his left hand and stru exaggerated feng pose straight from a swashbug film. The ued move was so ically out of pce that Natalie couldn't help but let out a small huff of ughter despite herself.

  Natalie asked incredulously, "The Princess Bride. Really?"

  Tyson's grin wide her rea. "A woman of culture!" he excimed, giving her an exaggerated nod full of pyful camaraderie.

  The air around them shifted as the earlier tension morphed into something lighter and more pyful, yet still charged with petitive spirit.

  Natalie attacked. Her movements were a series of graceful, calcuted ard thrusts. She was a storm, her strikes relentless and desigo overwhelm and outmaneuver. But this time, Tyson was different. While his movements were more awkward and less coordinated with his non-dominant hand, they were executed with blinding speed and agility that more than pensated for the ck of fi was a humorous tradi. His "left-handed" swordpy was clumsy yet performed with superhuman reflexes aerity.

  They moved together in a blurring whirlwind of strikes and ters, their bamboo swords meeting in rapid succession. Natalie's dark hair cascaded around her face, which was set in a look of fierce determination, though her keen eyes sparkled with delight. She was enjoying this battle of wits and skill.

  The dojo was filled with the rapid percussion of their duel, the outside world fading away as a student and his mentor became lost in their dayson's movements were a blur of awkward angles and supernatural speed, his enhanced reflexes pensating for the ck of finesse in his left hand. Though he could have pressed the attack, he chose io ter and defend, inviting Natalie to match his pace.

  It was the first time he had willingly revealed even this small portion of his power without prompting, and the significe was not lost on Natalie. She wo his reasons. Had it been seeing her on the bridge, and knowing she was more tha on? Was he beginning to trust her? Or was it something else entirely?

  Whe st came to a standstill, it was with their swords locked in a stalemate. And for the span of a heartbeat, Tyson increased the pressure, allowing Natalie to glimpse his immerength. Her swroaned uhe strain, and she knew if he had pressed a moment lohe bamboo would have shattered along with her defenses.

  As Natalie disengaged, breathing hard, her eyes were drawn to the creaking swords. But she swore she caught him wink briefly before she backpedaled. The tension dissipated as Natalie remarked, "You're full of surprises, Tyson," the ers of her lips quirked upward.

  "Just trying to keep up with you, teach," he replied, his casual tone belying his unspoken knowledge.

  Despite his casual attitude, Tyson's mind ed. He had revealed more of his capabilities to Natasha today. SHIELD already had their eye on him, that much was clear. Natasha's prese the school firmed it. Last week, Natasha saw him on the bridge fighting the Lizard. In his haste to protecle Ben, Tyson had revealed most of his capabilities… and he'd still failed to save Uncle Ben. But SHIELD never came knog on the door to his suite. So Tyson figured, either their iion wasn't to arrest him, or Natasha hadn't revealed what she knew about him. Or, they hadn't decided and were watg, waiting to see what he would do. And that gave Tyson somewhat of an advantage, for now. Letting Natasha glimpse another portion of his strength today had been calcuted. A subtle message to her that he was aware of her, that she hadn't been overlooked on that bridge. But also, an even subtler message, he knows she's more than she appears to be, and he could've tio exert his strength, causing serious injury at the end of their spar.

  Tyson and Natalie faced each other, their session paused as they versed. The afternoon sunlight filtered in through the windows and illumihe dust motes that dahrough the air. "So, yoing to meet with Felicia tonight?" Natalie asked, keepione light despite the that lurked beh the surface.

  "Yep," Tyson firmed with a casual nod, the hint of a smirk pying at his lips. "We're hitting the Broadway edy Club on 53rd Street."

  "Hell's Kit?" Natalie replied, arg an eyebrow slightly. Tyson just nodded, seemingly uurbed. "Should you be going out so te on a school night?" she prodded further, her dark eyes searg his face.

  Tyson scoffed, his carefree attitude was a stark trast to Natalie's posed . "I'll be skipping my internship. No biggie," he replied flippantly, his purposefully aloof reply sidestepping her apprehension.

  "They just let you e and go as you please?" Natalie questioyson could see the gears turning in her mind as she analyzed the situation.

  "They aren't paying me, so nobody pins when I don't show up," Tysoed with an indifferent shrug. Curiosity gleamed in his eyes as he turhe inquiry around on her. "Why the sudden i in me hanging out with Felicia anyway?"

  Natalie's expression softened, her eyes gentle. "I don't want to see you falling in with the wrong crowd," she fessed quietly.

  Tyson asked, "What's wrong with Felicia?" Natasha only shrugged in reply. Tyson chuckled lightly at that. "With my best friend being the biggest nerd in school? There's no risk of falling in with the bad kids," he assured her with an easy grin.

  Natalie's face adopted a touch of sadness, her voice softening as she gently broached the subject. "How's Peter doing these days?"

  The mention of his grieving friend immediately dimmed Tyson's cheerful demeanor. His easy grin faded, a troubled look clouding his eyes as he hesitated before answering holy. "He's having a really hard time," Tyson admitted.

  Tyson's for Peter was evident in the downturned ers of his mouth as he sighed. "The loss of Uncle Ben hit him devastatingly hard. If you weren't aware, Peter's parents died years ago," he expined, his voice tinged with sadness for his grieving friend. "Peter is still reeling. The grief is a lot to bear on top of… everything else he was dealing with. With his uncle gohe family is struggling financially now. The stress of money woes just adds to the weight, poundier's despair."

  Tyson wished he could do more to help his friend through this incredibly difficult time. Seeier so devastated and lost was heartbreaking. He shook his head slowly. "Peter is too proud. Even if I offered him moo help his family, he wouldn't accept it," Tyson admitted, trailing off more so in his thoughts than from waiting for Natalie's response.

  "I'm pnning ing him out sooing him out of that funk," Tyson tinued after a pause, "but I want to give him some time first, you know? Time to fully grieve before pushing him."

  Natalie nodded in uanding, her expression growing solemn and sympathetic upon hearing of her cssmate's struggles. "Of course," she said gently. "Let me know if there is anything I do to help too. Peter seems like a nice kid."

  Tyson gave her a small, grateful smile iurn for her kind offer. "I will. Thanks, Nat," he said, shortening her name for the first time.

  Natalie's lips matched his smile. The use of the niame caught her off guard. He had never called her anything but Natalie or Miss Rushman until now. "Of course," she replied after a pause.

  — Rogue Rept —

  The night air was cool as Tyson pulled up to the curb in front of the Broadway edy Club on 53rd Street. The engine of his bike purred before he killed it, the eingling with the sounds of New York nightlife. A figure approached, heels clig against the pavement in a steady rhythm.

  Felicia Hardy, but he almost didn't reize her. Her hair, usually a striking white, was a cascade of glossy bck that emphasized the pale hue of her skin. Her eyes, a stunning blue, were atuated by her new dark hair. She wore a form-fitting red dress that hugged her curves, with a modest nee that teased more than it revealed. Her lips were colored to match the dress, and they stretched into a sly smile as she regarded him.

  "You like it?" she asked, gesturing to her hair. "I thought I'd try something new."

  "Looks great," Tyson ented, his arm. She took it and together they ehe club.

  Inside, ughter and chatter filled the air. They were led to their seats, midway to the stage, and the show kicked off. edian after edian delivered their sets, and Tyson found himself ughing along. Felicia was right there with him, her ughter like music to his ears.

  However, halfway through the show, she leaned in close. "I o use the restroom," she whispered, her breath tig his ear. "Be right back."

  Tyson nodded, watg her as she sashayed through the crowds, the bck hair boung with each step. But he couldn't shake off a nagging feeling.

  Felicia's bathroom detour was strategi the privacy of the stall, she swiftly ged, her attire transf to aodate her alter ego. The gmorous dress was repced by a tactical, skin-tight bck suit, perfect fility and stealth. It hugged her figure like a sed skin, emphasizioned physique. In mere minutes, she became the notorious cat burgr, the Bck Cat, and with the ease of practice, she slipped unseen into the club's office.

  Her movements were fluid, a gymnast's gra her silent steps. She kly where the club kept its earnings, her fingers deftly bypassing the safe's security. The thrill of the heist made her heart race, a smile pying on her lips as she pocketed her prize.

  As swiftly as she had ged earlier, Felicia returo her previous ensemble, the bck wig settling perfectly around her shoulders. She ensured her appearance was immacute, the red dress once again hugging her curves entigly, before sauntering back to rejoin Tyson.

  He noticed her return, her presence pulling his attention like a mag. "Miss much?" she asked, reg her seat.

  "Just a few jokes," Tyson replied with an easy smile.

  — Rogue Rept —

  When Felicia excused herself, that secretive smile pying on her crimson lips, Tyson waited for a beat, his gaze sweeping the club's interior before he stood, feigning a casual stretch. He ambled off in the same dire Felicia had disappeared moments before.

  Tyson's steps were leisurely only in appearance. He maintained his cool facade, nodding at a staff member as he passed by, but his senses were heightened, razor-sharp.

  Upoering the hallway with the restrooms, he paused, casting an illusion to make himself not noticed by others. The soft click of a door closing reached his ears, and his lips twitched in a half-smile as the Bck Cat snuck past him, unaware of his presence. Instead of following immediately, Tyson tracked Felicia's path. He followed, unseen, as she slipped with feline grato the club's office. Tyson observed from the shadows, using his illusions to mask his presence.

  She was effit, her movements poetry in motion, and Tyson couldn't help but be captivated even as he memorized every detail of her heist. She passed him, returning to the restroom, unaware he stood in the hallway. The mohat Felicia had taken was ly tucked within her purse, and Tyson snatched it. Such a thing would’ve been impossible without her knowledge, but illusions allowed him to override her senses pletely. Tyson's touch went unaware. Tysouro his seat with the cash hidden in his inner pocket.

  Tyson's ughter mingled with the crowd's, his appuse as enthusiastic as any, but his mind was elsewhere, on the enigma that was Felicia Hardy.

  Wheurned, Felicia's eyes sparkled more than before, and Tyson studied her anew. "Miss much?" she asked, the inno her tone belied by the knowing twinkle in her eye.

  "Just a few jokes," Tyson replied with a grin.

  The night was alive, vibrant with the city's endless energy, as they stepped outside. Tyson’s motorcycle stood waiting, and Felicia asked, "Do you have ara helmet?" bringing a pyful smirk to Tyson's fabsp;

  "Nope. But you wear mine. Don't worry, I've got a hard head," he quipped, his joke about his iructible adamantium skull s over her head as he handed over his helmet.

  Tyson straddled the motorcycle, patting the seat behind him as an invitation. Felicia swung a leg over with a grace that spoke of her agility, her body ing to rest against his.

  The moment her arms encircled his waist, warmth began seeping through their clothes, her form a soft, stant pressure against his back. As the bike leaped forward uyson's guidance, Felicia's hold tightened, her hands not just seg herself but expl. Her fingers danced over the fabric of his jacket, trag the tours of his abdomen and chest.

  The city blurred past them, but all Tyson could register was the feel of Felicia behind him, her body moving with his as the motorcycle weaved through the traffic. There was an intima the way she held on, her head occasionally leaning against his shoulder, breaths warm against his neck, igniting a cascade of sensations he hadn’t prepared himself for.

  Her hands were bold, daring in their wanderings, as if she was mapping him, learning the secrets his body held through touch alo was distrag and exhirating all at once, and Tyson found himself caught between fog on the road aing lost in the feel of her. Felicia's closeness during the ride from Hell's Kit to the Four Seasons Downtown made Tyson acutely aware of every sed that ticked by with her arms around him.

  As they pulled up, the world seemed to snap bato focus, the city noise flooding ba. Relutly, they disentangled, Felicia's hands sliding away from his body with a lingering touch as if silently saying goodbye to the closehey'd shared.

  Tysht the motorcycle to a stop in front of the gleaming facade of the Four Seasons.

  "That was quite a ride," Felicia murmured as she removed the helmet. As she slid off the bike and removed the helmet, her gaze swept over the luxurious building. Her eyes narrowed slightly, lips pursing into a frown.

  "I'm not sure you got the right impression," she stated pinly, her voice taking on a sharp edge. "You're cute, but an expeel room isn't going to get you into my pants." She crossed her arms over her chest, blue eyes fshing. "It doesn't hurt, but that wasn't what I had in mind."

  Tyson barked out a ugh at her accusation, the sound rid urained. He shook his head, lips quirked into an amused grin. "Felicia, this is where I live," he expined, his tone casual and matter-of-fact, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

  Felicia's frown dissolved into surprise, her defensive posture rexing as she stared at him incredulously. "You live in a five-star hotel?" she asked, skepticism heavy in her voice.

  "Yup," Tyson firmed with a nont shrug. He owards the hotel's entrance. "e on, I'll show you."

  Felicia hesitated, seeming torween wariness and curiosity. But after a moment she stepped forward, falling into stride beside Tyson as he led the way inside. Her heels clicked against the polished marble floors as her gaze roved over the elegant lobby appreciatively.

  They approached the front desk where the attendant greeted Tyson with familiarity. "Evening Mr. Smith. How I assist you?"

  "Just heading up to my suite," Tyson replied casually. " you have some champag up?"

  The request was made so naturally as if it was the most ordinary thing to have champagne delivered to one's residence. Felicia watched the exge silently, taking it all in.

  Moments ter they were stepping out of the elevator onto the top floor. Tyson led Felicia down the plushly carpeted hallway to a set of double doors. He unlocked them with a keycard aured for Felicia to enter first.

  Felicia's eyes widened as she stepped into the expansive luxury suite, taking in the sprawling living area that was far rger than most New York apartments. Floor-to-ceiling windows lihe space, sweeping views of the glittering Manhattan skylihat sparkled into the night. inal artwork adorhe walls while sleek, modern furnishings lent an air of sophisticated elegao the patial rooms.

  "Well now, e impressed," Felicia remarked, uo keep the awe from seeping into her voice as she turned in a slow circle, abs the opuleails.

  A knock at the door heralded the arrival of their champagyson tipped the server generously after he uncorked the bottle awo frosted flutes on the coffee table. Tyson lifted the bottle, gng at Felicia with a roguish twinkle in his eyes as he watched her rea. Her eyes were wide, taking in the luxurious suite as she stepped further iyson poured champago the gsses as Felicia approached the windows, enthralled by the glittering cityscape.

  "How you even afford a pce like this?" she asked, her voice a mix of wonder and curiosity as she accepted the ss.

  Tyson shrugged nontly, a vague expression on his face. "Let's just say I've got my ways," he replied, iionally ambiguous. He didn't miss the way her eyes narrowed pyfully, clearly irely buying his evasion but letting it slide for the moment.

  Felicia reached up and pulled off her wig, revealing lustrous white hair that fell around her shoulders in soft waves. Her magism intensified as she began to slowly looseop buttons of her blouse. Her unbuttoning was a distra. With her other hand, she reached into her purse, produg a thick wad of cash, then fanned herself with it slightly as her lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Or maybe you acquire things in a simir way to me?" she teased.

  Surprise fshed through Tyson. He hadn't even noticed her retrieving the cash from his jacket earlier. Had she dohat when they were oorcycle? His features morphed into modignation. "So you weren't just feeling me up then?" he asked, the words heavy with jest.

  Tyson's humor-filled eyes locked with Felicia's, whose gaze held a glint of seriousness underh the mirth. An impasse formed between them, uanding and curiosity dang along the edges. Then Tyson chuckled, the warm sound building a bridge between them.

  "Yeah, that's how I afford pces like this," he admitted, irely truthful but not a total lie either. His smile faded as he ventured further. "But what about you, Felicia? Why the club? Why Oscorp?" The questions hung delicately in the air, a shift from their pyful banter.

  For a moment, vulnerability fshed across Felicia's face, her fidence wavered. She sat on the plush velvet couch, patting the space beside her in a wordless invitation. Her eyes spoke volumes.

  Join me. Uand me.

  Tyson moved to sit beside her, intrigued by the glimpse behind her fa?ade. She turo face him, hesitation in her eyes before she began speaking softly. "It started a few years ago..."

  Felicia's eyes took on a faraway look as she delved into her memories, her voice veying a blend of defiand sorrow. "It was a day like any other," she began, "or so I had thought until I received an ominous message. 'Fisk wants to see you.' Just that. My heart froze in my chest. One does not get summoned by Wilson Fisk and expect good news."

  Tyson leaned forward, his meta-knowledge allowing him to empathize with the precarious position Felicia had found herself in. "The Kingpin..." he murmured softly, aowledging the gravity that the name held in New York's underworld.

  Felicia looked momentarily surprised that he knew of Fisk, but then gave a slight nod, her lustrous white hair swayily with the motion. "I was escorted to an office that screamed of wealth and power, of a man who ehe fihings in life while ruling with an iron fist. Everything was vish yet...ominous." Her slender firaced absent patterns on the velvet couch as she spoke. "Fisk was sitting behind a massive desk, like a king holding court from his throne. And then he reminded me..." Her voice hitched almost imperceptibly. "He reminded me about my father."

  "Your father?" Tyson prodded gently, seeing the fsh of pain in her eyes at the mention of her father.

  "He was...is... a plicated man," she admitted. Felicia's gaze grew distant as she reted the past. "My father was one of the best thieves in the world," she began with a hint of pride in her voice despite the sorrow that li the edges.

  "He could slip in and out of anywhere unseen. His skills were unmatched, his reflexes like a cat. I remember watg him practice as a child, mesmerized by his grad agility as he leaped and spun. He was surprised that I was ied in what he did but fostered it. I was enrolled in gymnastics, martial arts, climbing, all the activities so that I could be like him." A ghost of a smile crossed her lips at the memory before fading.

  "But the caught, doing a job for Fisk. Of course, he didn't snitch. Loyalty meant everything to my father. He went away for five years." Her voice grew thick with emotion.

  "He missed me growing into a teenager, my first school dance, first boyfriend...so many things. I used to imagine him cheering proudly at my gymnastics meets that he never got to see." She blinked rapidly against the sting of tears.

  "But even though he didn't snitch, the job for Fisk wasn't fihere was still a debt owed that didn't just disappear because my father was in prison." Anger ament simmered beh her words.

  "And so my family was ied to the Kingpiruggled to get by with my father gone. My mother worked herself to exhausti to make ends meet." Felicia shook her head, old grief and helplessness welling up inside.

  "When my father was finally released, Fisk's men were waiting. The first thing he had to do was finish that job from five years prior. It didn't matter that the pn was outdated. His debt had to be repaid."

  Felicia paused, taking a shaky breath. "But my father had gotten into a fight in prison, he was stabbed in the leg a's be ho, he was getting old. He couldn't move like he used to. That's when I decided. If my father was forced bato a life of crime to settle debts that weren't even his, then I would take matters into my own hands."

  Her eyes hardened with vi. "I swore I would pay back every t through my own skills, free my family from Fisk's s. And that's exactly what I started doing."

  Felicia's fession weighed heavy in the room. Tyson could see the anguish in her eyes as she reted her father's plight. He imagihe crushiion of her taking his pce, forced into Fisk's service to repay debts that were not her own.

  "So you took your father's pce, doing jobs for Fisk?" Tyson surmised, his voice gentle.

  Feliodded, her eyes fshing with remembered anger. "Exactly. In that first meeting, Fisk slid a dossier across his desk to me. Photos, pns, everything I needed for a job." She spat out the words. "He wanted me to help him acquire some properties in Hell's Kit through less than legal means."

  Tyson frowned, disgust welling up inside him. "That's low. Bckmailing you with your father’s mistakes."

  She let out a sarcastic chuckle, but her eyes held no humor. "Oh, he didn’t see it as bckmail. He called it 'repaying generosity.'" Her voice dripped with pt. "I was trapped, Tyson. He made sure I k wasn't a request. It wasn't just about me. He has a hold over my entire family. I couldn’t refuse, not really."

  A heavy silence fell between them with the weight of her fession. Tyson's heart ached for the impossible situation she had been forced into. This ged everythihought he knew about her. Reag over, he took one of her hands firmly in his gloved ones, meeting her eyes.

  "You're not alone in this, Felicia," he said resolutely. "Fisk is on another level, but he's not untouchable. We find a way to get you out of this...together."

  She searched his eyes with her own, so vulnerable at that moment pared to the fident socialite or sultry thief she portrayed. Felicia's chuckle was devoid of any real mirth. "I appreciate that, Tyson, I really do," she said, her voice tinged with a ge pitying dession, as though he were a naive child making promises he couldn't possibly keep. She gave his hand a brief squeeze before pulling away, tug a stray lock of ptinum hair behind one ear. "You're sweet f to help."

  She sighed, a hint ret audible ione. "I don’t even know why I spilled my guts to you. But you?" She shook her head, an ironic twist to her lips. "What you do? Fisk is rich, and he's got a gang and meraries at his bed call. Sure, you're a tough guy, and you’ve got quick hands." She shot him a wry smirk. "But you’re not on my level of light-fingered. So tell me, what's your py here? Just trying to sweet-talk me out of my catsuit?"

  Tyson's smile was slow, fident. He leaned in just a bit closer, his one blue eye, the reen, held her gaze with an iy that drew her ie herself.

  "My hands aren’t that good," he fessed, his voice low. "I’m a det thief, but I cheat."

  Felicia's brow furrowed, intrigue sparking in her emerald eyes. "Cheat? What do you mean?" She unsciously mirrored his posture, leaning in.

  In respoyson simply pced his hand behind his back. When he brought it bato view, the stack of bills from the edy club was led in his palm.

  "How did you—" she started, shock widening her eyes.

  He cut her off by handihe money. As she took it, fusion creased her brow. Reag to tuck the cash bato her designer purse, she paused, startled. The bills were already there. But then... Gng down at her hand, she found it empty.

  When she snapped her head back up, bafflement fluttered across her strikiures. Recheg her purse revealed the money had vanished pletely.

  Tysohe stack out towards her once more, the hint of a smirk pying about his lips. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the bills casg through the air like a magi’s card trick. They swirled around the pair in a green flurry before disappeariirely, as if they had never been.

  Felicia blinked in disbelief. Every bill was ba her purse, stacked ly as if they'd never left. "How?" was all she managed, her voi awed whisper.

  Tyson posed his question as if he hadn't just performed an impossible feat. "Do you follow the news? Heard about the city's new heroes?" he inquired, a pyful challenge dang in his eyes.

  Reition sparked across Felicia's strikiures, her eyes widening as fragments of news reports and rumors swirled together, coalesg into a stunning realization. "Wait...the viginte from the bridge? The one who took on the Lizard? That was you?" she breathed out, her voi awed whisper brimming with disbelief aement.

  Embrag the dramatic reveal, Tyson eled his inner showman and did his best impression of Jubilee. juring a spectacle of illusory fireworks with a flick of his wrist, he sent the vivid sparks bursting over their heads where they crackled and popped, raining down in a fetti of light that reflected off his pyful gaze. "Surprise?" he offered, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

  As the illusion faded, Felicia's shock shifted into an impish smile. The familiar sultriness returo her demeanor as she processed the game-giion. Leaning in, her eyes sparkled with newfound resped a hint of mischief as she purred, "Well, Mirage, I do believe this ges everything."

  Rising fluidly, she closed the distaween them, her hand finding its way to his arm, manicured nails trag the tours of muscle hiddeh his long sleeve. "You know, I think we could help each other out," she tinued, her voice a throaty whisper, warm breath tig his ear spiratorially.

  Tyso her gaze, his own eyes serious despite the curve of his lips. He khe stakes, khe challehey faced with Fisk, but Felicia's fidence was iious. "I'm listening," he responded.

  With a cat-like twinkle in her eye, Felicia stepped back, creating a sliver of space between them. "First, we'll need intel. Fisk's resources, his empire, his weaknesses..."

  She paused, a smirk pying at the er of her ruby lips as a pn took shape. "And for that, we'll have to pull off a little heist of our own. What do you say to a field trip over to Fisk Tower?"

  Tyson's ugh was a low rumble, the sound ing around them like a shared cloak of camaraderie and anticipation. "It's your world, Felicia," he replied, ready to take oy's underworld. Together.

  Behind the ses

  - Felicia's eye color will shift between blue and green during the story as it does in her different portrayals. Official ruling is that she has green eyes, but sometimes wears blue tacts.

  - The inal outline of this story Arc had Tyson w security, much like he was when Felicia broke into Oscorp. In this chapter Tyson would’ve been in the b with Norman Osborn wheook the serum and attacked the stist. Tyson would’ve fought Norman immediately, trying to prevent the stist’s death and demonstrating how he stacks up to a super soldier. While I still think it would’ve been a fun se, it just didn’t fit with the overall arc to have su early showdown. Additionally, early/mid october was when I had the goblin appearing iimeline, but this put it very close to uncle ben’s death. I didn’t think that Tyson would go to an unpaid internship regurly, when he didn’t he money, so soon after such a failure.