In the dimly lit lab at Oscorp, Dr. Octavius was now a prisoner, trapped by his own invention. His mechanical tentacles, now permanently attached to him, twitched and writhed as he struggled against his restraints. The special suit he wore was designed to immobilize even the most dangerous individuals, covering his entire body and holding him tightly.

As he fought to break free, his anger and frustration grew.

"Norman, what's the meaning of this?" Dr. Octavius shouted, his voice echoing through the sterile room. His eyes blazed with fury and betrayal as he looked at Norman Osborn, standing just outside his cell.

Norman's expression was cold and calculating. "Well, Otto, I wanted to know what caused this evolution." he replied, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Octavius's frustration mounted. "I told you, it's the fusion reactor! Now let me out of here and fix me!"

Norman's gaze shifted to the mechanical limbs fused to Octavius's body. "Look Otto, I want to understand more about this fusion reactor and how it could meld machinery with the human body," he said, almost in awe. "Perhaps I could uncover a new form of evolution, a groundbreaking discovery!"

"You bastard, let me out of here!" Octavius shouted, thrashing against his restraints.

Norman smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "It's no use, Otto. This suit is specifically designed to restrain you completely, and this cell is built to contain you. There's no escape."

"Bastard, let me go!" Octavius's voice was raw with rage and desperation, but Norman simply turned away, leaving him to his torment.

As the door to the lab closed with a loud clang, Octavius's shouts continued to echo through the room.

"Norman!" Octavius screamed, his voice hoarse with anger.

As Otto continued to shout, a strange thing happened. A rat in the corner of the lab began to change, transforming into a human right before his eyes.

"Who... who are you?" Octavius stammered, his anger giving way to confusion and shock.

"Me?" said the mysterious figure with a smirk. "You can call me Chameleon. I'm here to free you from this prison."

Octavius stared at Chameleon, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Chameleon?" he repeated, trying to process what was happening.

.................

[Meanwhile Michael Wilson]

Michael Wilson and Peter Parker were in the middle of a heated fight with some thugs engaged in a shady syndicate transaction. Michael, known as the legendary Spider-Man, wore a sleek black suit with blue accents and a cool hoodie. Peter, the younger Spider-Man Red, sported his iconic red suit.

"Red, you take the right side and deal with those thugs. I'll handle the ones on the left." Michael instructed, his tone firm yet calm.

"Always ready, Captain," Peter replied with a grin. He then glanced at Michael's hoodie and added, "Man, every time I see that hoodie, it's so cool. Why didn't you put one on my suit?"

Michael chuckled and said, "Well, your suit is already perfect. No need for extra accessories." With that, he lunged toward the thugs on the left side, moving with the speed and grace of a seasoned hero.

"Wait, I wasn't finished!" Peter called out, watching his mentor charge into the fray. "You're just avoiding my question." he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Peter turned his focus back to his task. Determined and ready, he swung to the right, landing in the midst of the thugs. His movements were swift and precise, each punch and kick landing with expert precision.

Peter kicked one thug in the gut, sending him sprawling to the side. He sensed another thug aiming a firearm at him and deftly dodged the shots, his Spider-Sense guiding his movements. As bullets whizzed past him, Peter quickly fired a web towards the gun, yanking it out of the thug's hand and tossing it aside. Without missing a beat, he shot another web at the thug and lunged forward, delivering a powerful kick to the man's stomach that knocked the breath out of him.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Peter paused for a moment, surveying the scene. He counted around twenty thugs still standing. "Bring it on." he muttered, determination blazing in his eyes.

As Peter faced the first wave of ten thugs, he couldn't help but notice one with a particularly ridiculous hairstyle. "Nice haircut!" he quipped as he dodged a punch, earning a confused look from the thug before knocking him out with a well-placed kick.

Another thug, clearly overconfident, approached Peter with a cocky grin. "You're in for it now, Spidey!" he boasted, only to trip over his own shoelaces as Peter sidestepped with a smirk.

With that the thugs opened fire simultaneously. Peter reacted instantly, using his webbing to create a shield that absorbed the bullets. Then, with rapid precision, he fired webs at their guns, yanking them out of their hands. He followed up by shooting webs at the thugs themselves, dragging them into a tangled heap.

Peter took advantage of their disarray. He dashed forward, delivering a swift kick to the back of the first thug, sending him crashing to the ground. The second thug tried to swing at him, but Peter ducked and delivered a roundhouse kick that sent the thug flying.

As Peter swiftly punched the thug in the liver, causing him to double over in agony, he couldn't help but quip, "Looks like your liver's about to file a complaint!"

Turning to the next attacker, Peter landed a solid punch square in the face, sending him crashing to the ground. "You should've ducked." he joked, flashing a grin before moving on to the next thug.

The thug brandishing a knife looked menacing, but Peter remained unfazed. "Careful with that thing, you might poke an eye out!" he teased, before swiftly jabbing the thug's eyes with his fingers, temporarily blinding him.

As the thug stumbled, clutching his eyes in pain, Peter couldn't resist adding, "Bet you didn't see that coming!" before delivering a low kick to the knee, sending the thug tumbling to the ground in a heap.

Each thug fell in quick succession. Peter's movements were fast of efficiency and precision. He ducked, weaved, punched, and kicked, taking out thug after thug. One went down with a blow to the stomach, another with a strike to the chest. A powerful kick sent another thug flying, and a spinning backfist knocked out the last of the ten.

Peter stood amidst the fallen thugs, breathing heavily but still focused. He glanced at the remaining ten, who looked at each other, hesitating.

"Come on, who's next?" Peter taunted, cracking his knuckles.

.....

...

.....

The remaining thugs charged at him, desperate to overwhelm him with their numbers. Peter leaped into the air, firing webs in rapid succession. He pulled two thugs towards him, delivering a double kick that sent them both sprawling. He landed smoothly and dodged a punch from another thug. Then he hit the thug hard in the ribs with his elbow. Then followed by a spinning kick that sent the thug crashing into a wall.

As the thug attempted to tackle him from behind, Peter sensed the incoming attack with a smirk. "Nice try, but I've got eyes in the back of my... oh wait, I actually do!" he quipped, flipping effortlessly over the thug's head and landing gracefully behind him. With a quick jab to the back of the neck, he knocked the thug out cold.

Meanwhile, another thug swung a bat at him with a determined scowl. Peter caught the bat mid-swing with a grin. "Looks like someone's been practicing their baseball swings," he joked, before effortlessly yanking the bat out of the thug's hands. Using the bat to trip him up, Peter couldn't resist adding, "Sorry buddy, but looks like you're going to have to call your momma for a ride home!" before delivering a final punch to the jaw.

With only a few thugs left, Peter moved with even more speed and precision. As he ducked under a wild punch, he couldn't resist a playful jab. "Whoa there, almost got me! But you're swinging like my Uncle Ben after too much coffee!" he quipped before swiftly grabbing the attacker's arm and flipping him onto his back.

Moving on to the next thug, Peter unleashed a barrage of punches, each one delivered with precision. "Sorry about this, buddy. I think I might have hurt your feelings... and your face." he joked between punches, earning a groan from the thug on the receiving end.

With another thug closing in, Peter's webbing came into play once again. "Hold still for a sec." he said with a grin, quickly webbing the thug to the ground before delivering a series of rapid punches. "Sorry about the rough landing, but you'll thank me later!" he quipped, his banter never ceasing even in the heat of battle.

Finally, with only one thug left, Peter gave him a stern look, causing the thug to tremble in fear. The thug dropped his weapon and attempted to flee, but Peter had other plans. With a mischievous grin, he shot webs at the thug's feet, causing him to trip and fall face-first onto the ground.

"Oh, sorry, man," Peter quipped with a chuckle, unable to resist adding a comedic touch. "Looks like you won't be able to tell your momma about me heheheh!"

.............

Meanwhile Michael Wilson

During the fight, Michael Wilson, also known as the Legendary Spider-Man, stood in the mess. He wore a black suit and had defeated 30 thugs, Only 10 thugs remaining.

With a serious look, Michael studied the few foes left. Then Michael quickly moved toward the remaining thugs, his actions fast and precise. With a powerful kick, he knocked two of them to the ground, causing them to groan in agony.

Meanwhile, the other three thugs unleashed a barrage of gunfire in Michael's direction. But Michael was already a step ahead, he moved quickly, easily avoiding the bullets with smooth and graceful movements. With a smirk, he quipped, "Looks like you guys need some target practice!"

Then he used his webbing to disarm them, causing their guns to tumble to the ground. The thugs looked on in disbelief, realizing they had been outmaneuvered by the legendary Spider-Man.

As Michael closed in on the trio, he moved quickly, punching each thug in the face with precise strikes. With every blow, another thug fell to the ground, knocked out cold. It was clear that Michael was skilled in combat, effortlessly taking down his opponents one by one.

With only five thugs remaining, Michael couldn't help but burst into laughter as he glanced at the bald thug's head, seeing a striking resemblance to a certain male body part. "Dick." he managed to choke out between fits of chuckles, finding the situation absurdly hilarious.

"What's with your head, buddy? It looks like a... well, you know." he quipped with a grin, unable to contain his amusement.

The thug's face twisted in anger at the insult. "You!!" he spat, his frustration evident as he faced off against the formidable Michael Wilson.

Then In a matter of minutes, the area was clear, and both Spider-Man stood victorious amidst the subdued criminals.

"Nice work, Red." Michael said, giving Peter a nod of approval.

Peter grinned, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. "Thanks, Captain. But seriously, think about the hoodie!"

Michael laughed again, clapping Peter on the shoulder. "Maybe someday, kid. Maybe someday."

.........................

[Meanwhile Norman Side]

Deep within the basement of Oscorp, Norman Osborn's eyes widened in shock as he surveyed the empty cell in his basement where Otto Octavius had been confined. His mind raced with disbelief as he muttered, "Where is Otto? What... what happened?"

The realization dawned on him like a sudden jolt of electricity — Otto Octavius had escaped.

Norman got really mad and squeezed his fists tight. "Damnit, my experiment is gone!" he spat out, his voice echoing in the empty basement. With Otto Octavius gone, everything Norman had hoped for went down the drain, and he felt really, really frustrated.

In a fit of anger, Norman yelled for his guards, his voice booming with authority and anger. "Guards!!!" he shouted, his demand echoing through the air as he tried to fix the problem and catch the scientist who had escaped.

The end of Missing Part