"I can give you half my fortune."
A train passed over the elevated tracks, making the rooftop tremble a few times.
Harry stood in front of Peter, the document envelope in his hand already creased from his grip.
"Oscorp shares, the estate, cash, and the patents my father left behind. Half my fortune. All I want is one vial of your blood."
Peter said nothing.
His breathing grew heavier beneath his mask.
"Harry, you know a vial of blood isn't medicine."
"I know."
"No, you don't." Peter took a step forward.
"All you know is that my body can heal itself. You don't know what's in my blood. Spider genes, unknown proteins, neurotransmitters, maybe even foreign substances your current equipment can't identify."
Harry's lips moved slightly.
"But it could save me."
"It could also kill you."
"I'm already dying!"
His voice struck the factory's outer wall, returning as a distorted echo.
Harry pointed at his chest.
"My heart gets worse every day. Left ventricular fibrosis, an ejection fraction of thirty-one percent. The doctors say I have a year at most. Not a year of healthy living. A year in which my heart could stop at any moment."
Peter's fingers tightened.
"I've seen serum experiments."
"That was lizard serum, not your blood."
"Which makes this even riskier." Peter stared at him.
"Three veterans thought they were just receiving treatment, too. Benjamin had barely grown a new foot when scales started pushing out of his wounds. His bones changed, and so did his nerves. He still remembered who he was, but he couldn't control his own body."
Harry lowered his head.
"Spider genes won't necessarily cause that."
"No, but they won't necessarily be safe, either."
"We could run experiments first."
"On whom?"
"Cells, animals, simulated tissue."
"By the time those are done,