The Amazing Spider-Man 4

Chapter 19

Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Smythe plowed through his ever-growing fatigue as he continued to work. He'd been at this for what felt like an eternity, only taking a break to step out and get some much-needed food and coffee in order to keep going. He was sure he'd cracked the code this time, building the ultimate spider slayer. There was one key component that had been missing from the other ones that would be added this time, and it would ensure that this go round with Spider-Man ended in victory, rather than failure.

As he fought through the exhaustion, it was the thought and sight of Alistair's father that kept him going. Every time he felt an extra layer of exhaustion settle into his being, he forced the man to the forefront of his mind, recalling why he was doing this: so that the man who'd raised him might have a chance to not just survive, but live again. Smythe had promised him that he would succeed, and despite his repeated setbacks, he was no less set on keeping it.

The door suddenly opened to his lab, causing Smythe to pause his work. He glanced to see that it was the man who'd paid him a visit before, his primary contact in this endeavor. This time, however, he was not alone, as several men came filing in behind him, moving over to different areas of the lab.

"What is this?" Smythe questioned, approaching the man. "What is going on?"

"Were you aware that you nearly had a security breach earlier?" the man asked. He held up his phone, which showed security footage from the upstairs area of the building. There were two men there, who'd appeared to be looking for something in particular, possibly him. Fighting to keep his composure, his tone was even as he answered.

"They didn't find me though, did they?"

"Maybe not," the man answered, putting his phone away, "but it's still much too close a call for my boss, so we're moving your lab, today."

"What? You can't do that!" Smythe protested. "I'm nearly finished!"

"Relax, Alistair," the man said, his tone and subtle laughter indicating he found something about the situation humorous. "Your work will continue, just not here. Trust me when I say that my boss and I both would like you to finish what you started."

"But I have components charging," Smythe explained, the men around him ignoring his protests as they continued to unplug or pick up various pieces of equipment. "This could set me back!"

"Better that than you getting found out," the man replied, "and trust me, there's no possibility of that ending well for you."

The men began carrying some of his equipment out the door.

"Now, come with me," the man said, "we'll show you where you'll be working from now on."

----

After emerging from the shower, Peter threw on some casual clothes as he prepared to settle in for the evening. He'd recently come back from a long patrol, swinging around and once again trying to pick up any signs of either Smythe or Kraven. He even went back and revisited some old battle sites from his encounters with both, but his efforts had proven unfruitful.

Since he'd received a text from M.J. near the end of the workday that she'd be spending most of the evening with Liz, Peter opted to do a little home lab work. He'd been working on a new web formula that, in theory, would allow his webbing to be much stronger than his previous versions had been. It had almost become like a game to him over the years, constantly trying to best his previous work as he pushed the limits of science behind his primary method of travel and villain containment even further.

All that to say, there was a part of Peter that still wouldn't mind trading in his mechanical web shooters for organic ones, like his older counterpart from across the multiverse had. It sounded like SOOOO much less hassle than what he had to deal with as he constantly feared running out at the wrong times. Peter had gotten pretty good at preventing this scenario, but he knew there would always be a risk of it, as well as the web shooters themselves getting damaged in battle, something else that had happened all too frequently.