Chapter 41: Four-Arm

"Move!"

Before Ben could even process the thought, his spider-sense had already made the choice for him. The familiar tingling sensation flooded his consciousness as danger blazed through every nerve ending.

The web-line snapped taut like a bowstring, catapulting him through the air toward Connors with deadly precision. "Spider kick!"

Another devastating flying kick, and this time it was a coordinated assault. Ben and Peter struck simultaneously, their combined momentum creating a thunderous impact that reverberated through the corridor.

Connors' massive head whipped backward from the force, the sound of cracking bone echoing ominously through the confined space. The transformed scientist staggered, his reptilian features contorting in pain as he struggled to maintain his footing. Ben grimaced—he could only hope that the sickening crack meant damaged scales rather than a fractured skull from their combined attack.

After the successful strike, both spider-powered heroes prepared to press their advantage, but Connors was already descending into a pain-fueled frenzy. His massive form thrashed wildly, those enormous claws—each one the size of a dinner plate—slicing through the air with enough force to generate visible distortions in the atmosphere. His thick, muscular tail whipped around like a wrecking ball, and the impact against the corridor wall sent chunks of concrete and rebar cascading to the floor below.

Ben twisted his body with fluid grace, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to bend almost impossibly as he ducked under the sweeping tail. The appendage passed mere inches from his skull, close enough that he could feel the rush of displaced air ruffling his costume.

But Connors wasn't finished. Those razor-sharp claws came down again with frightening speed, each capable of punching through steel as they stabbed downward like organic spears. The air itself seemed to shriek as the claws cut through it, creating a sound like tearing fabric amplified a hundredfold.

His attacks were so fast they left afterimages in the air, a deadly blur of motion that would have overwhelmed any normal human. However, Ben had learned to trust his spider-sense implicitly. He abandoned visual tracking entirely, allowing his enhanced intuition to guide his movements. His body flowed like water, shifting and dodging with an almost dance-like precision that made Connors' strikes seem clumsy by comparison.

Frustrated by his inability to land a hit, Connors' rage boiled over. The transformed scientist lunged forward, his massive jaws gaping wide to reveal rows of serrated teeth, each one sharp enough to pierce concrete. He snapped down toward Ben's head like a living guillotine, intent on ending the fight in one brutal bite.

Ben's response was instantaneous. He dropped into a low crouch, his knees flexing as he coiled his muscles like springs. Just as those deadly jaws were about to close around his skull, he exploded upward with all his enhanced strength, his foot connecting with the underside of Connors' jaw in a devastating uppercut that generated a visible shockwave.

The impact produced a sound like a thunderclap. Even with Connors' enhanced size and supernatural strength, the force of Ben's precisely placed kick was enough to lift the massive creature off his feet. The lizard-man flipped through the air like a coin toss, his bulk crashing to the ground with enough force to crack the floor tiles beneath him.

Peter didn't waste the opportunity. He dropped from his position on the ceiling like a spider descending on trapped prey, putting all his weight and momentum behind a devastating strike to Connors' exposed abdomen—one of the few areas where his scales were thinner and more vulnerable.

The impact was catastrophic. The floor beneath them couldn't withstand the combined weight and force, and both Peter and Connors crashed through to the level below in an explosion of dust and debris. Chunks of concrete and twisted metal rained down as the structural integrity of the building groaned under the assault.

Ben started to follow them down, but just as he was about to jump through the hole, a blur of red and blue came flying back up—Peter, tossed like a ragdoll. He hit the floor hard, rolling across it with his arms and legs flailing as he tried to get his bearings.

Then Connors burst up from the wreckage below, his massive body rising through the floor like something out of a nightmare. His spine arched like the keel of a ship, the jagged scales on his back tearing through concrete and steel like they were paper. He moved like a shark cutting through water, muscles rippling as he forced the opening wider with raw strength.

The floor collapsed in a domino effect of destruction—support beams snapped like twigs, electrical wires fizzled out, and what used to be two separate floors was now just one giant open space. Connors finally had room to stand tall and move freely, no longer boxed in by the tight confines that had held him back before.

"Well, this just got significantly more complicated," Peter muttered, pressing himself against the wall as he surveyed their transformed battlefield. His attempt at humor couldn't quite mask the concern in his voice.

Initially, their smaller size and superior agility had given them a tactical advantage in the cramped corridors. Connors had been forced to fight in an environment that constrained his movements and limited his attacks. Even then, their strikes had barely seemed to affect the Lizard's enhanced physiology.

Now that the space around them had opened up, Connors could finally unleash his full strength and reach. The fight was on equal ground now—except it definitely wasn't leaning in their favor.

Connors threw back his massive head and released a roar that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. The sound was primal, terrifying, and powerful enough to shatter every piece of glass in the building. Windows exploded outward in showers of glittering fragments, light fixtures burst in sprays of sparks, and even the reinforced observation windows in the laboratory levels above cracked and failed.

Ben's gaze darted nervously to the antidote serum, his heart racing as he checked on their only hope of reversing Connors' transformation. Fortunately, Norman Osborn's test tube was constructed of reinforced materials and had been designed with multiple safety features. The precious liquid remained secure despite the sonic assault.

"I'll kill you, you miserable insects!" Connors' voice had become something inhuman, a rasping growl that seemed to emanate from the depths of his chest. He launched himself forward with renewed fury, his movements now unencumbered by the confined space.

Ben and Peter attempted to execute their previous strategy, attacking from multiple angles to divide Connors' attention. But the transformed scientist had adapted to their tactics. He faced Ben head-on while his powerful tail whipped behind him like a fifth limb, creating a defensive barrier that made it impossible for Peter to approach from the rear.

Each sweep of that massive tail generated enough force to pulverize concrete. Peter watched in horrified as a section of wall—easily six inches thick—was reduced to powder by a casual flick of Connors' tail. The destructive power was beyond anything they had faced before.

Ben found himself bearing the brunt of Connors' focused assault. The creature's arms moved with blinding speed, each strike capable of punching through steel plating. The attacks came in rapid succession, creating a deadly web of motion that would have overwhelmed any normal fighter.

Despite his enhanced reflexes and precognitive abilities, Ben found himself being pushed to his absolute limits. Each dodge was perfectly timed, each movement calculated to avoid certain death by mere fractions of inches. But he understood the terrible mathematics of the situation—Connors could afford to miss a hundred times, while Ben could only afford to be caught once.

"What's our next move?" Peter shouted over the sounds of destruction, his voice strained with effort as he looked for an opening in their opponent's defenses.

"Web him up!" Ben called back, executing a backflip that carried him just clear of Connors' slashing claws. "Wrap him like a birthday present!"

He knew their webbing wouldn't hold the lizard for long—Connors' strength was simply too great. But they only needed a few seconds, just enough time to create an opening for their real objective.

"Then we get the antidote into his bloodstream through the eyes!" Ben continued, his analytical mind working even as he fought for survival. "It's the only vulnerable spot I can identify!"

Even with Connors' enhanced physiology making his skin tougher than steel plating, Ben was confident that his eyes remained a weak point. If they could inject the serum directly into his system through that route, they might be able to either weaken him sufficiently to continue the fight or, hopefully, restore enough of his human consciousness to end the conflict entirely.

"Don't even think about it, you pathetic insects!" Connors had clearly overheard their shouted strategy, and his attacks intensified to a level that bordered on the supernatural. His movements became even more frenzied, if such a thing were possible.

But the increased aggression worked against him. Ben and Peter smoothly transitioned to a new approach, abandoning their attempts at direct confrontation. Instead, they maintained careful distance, using their superior mobility to stay just out of reach while harassing their opponent with continuous streams of webbing.

They fought just like real spiders—darting in fast to hit him with webs, then backing off before he could catch them. Connors roared in frustration, ripping at the sticky strands clinging to him, but the webbing was made to stick hard. Every second he spent tearing one off, another ten were already wrapped around him.

Little by little, Connors started to look like he was getting dusted with snow. At first, the layers of webbing didn't seem like much, but it added up fast. His movements grew slower, his swings less accurate, and the weight of all that sticky silk started messing with his balance and timing.

"It's working!" Peter's excitement was palpable as he witnessed their strategy taking effect. The gradual accumulation of webbing was having the desired impact on their opponent's power.

Emboldened by their success, Peter became more aggressive in his approach. He leaped directly onto Connors' back, scuttling around the massive form like a true spider securing its prey. Layer after layer of webbing followed, each strand carefully placed to maximize restriction and minimize Connors' ability to break free.

Ben and Peter continued their relentless assault until their web-shooters were completely depleted. By that point, Connors resembled nothing so much as a massive cocoon, his entire body wrapped in multiple layers of incredibly strong silk. Even his powerful jaws had been bound shut by Ben's careful application of webbing around his snout.

The lizard's balance failed him, and he toppled backward like a felled tree, his massive bulk hitting the floor with a thunderous crash that shook the entire building. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling as the structure groaned under the impact.

"Finally," Peter breathed, exhaustion evident in his voice as he retrieved the antidote serum from its protective case. He approached the immobilized Connors with careful steps, his movements deliberate and precise. "This might sting a little, Dr. Connors—nothing personal. It's just, you know, your eyelids happen to be the second easiest target on your body… right after your, uh, rear end."

Peter's tendency toward humor in stressful situations was reasserting itself now that the immediate danger seemed to have passed. He reached out with steady hands, preparing to lift Connors' eyelid so he could inject the serum directly into the eye.

Meanwhile, Ben stood nearby, his attention focused on replacing the webbing he had expended during the fight. His enhanced hearing picked up the familiar mechanical sounds of his web-shooters cycling as they prepared fresh cartridges.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, his spider-sense exploded into activity. The familiar tingling sensation became a screaming alarm that set every nerve ending ablaze with warning. In that instant, the world seemed to shift into a different spectrum of perception. His hair stood on end as if charged with static electricity, and his head snapped up to focus on Peter with crystal clarity.

"Peter, get back!" he shouted, his voice carrying desperate urgency.

But his warning came too late. In that critical moment, Connors' muscles tensed throughout his bound form, and his scales—which had been lying flat against his skin—suddenly stood erect like thousands of tiny blades. The transformation was instantaneous and devastating. Each scale became a cutting edge, slicing through the webbing with surgical precision.

Connors surged to his feet with explosive force, the cocoon of silk falling away from his body like discarded clothing. The massive shadow of his form fell across Peter, who was caught completely off guard by the sudden reversal of fortune.

Peter's own spider-sense finally activated, but the warning came far too late to be useful. He instinctively reached for his web-shooters, intending to blind Connors with a face full of silk, but his hands closed on empty air. He had forgotten that he had exhausted his supply during their previous assault.

Connors' expression was a mask of predatory satisfaction as he drew back one massive claw. The backhand strike that followed was delivered with casual, almost dismissive force, but it was more than enough to send Peter flying across the room. The young hero's body went limp as he crashed into the far wall, consciousness fleeing as his head struck the concrete.

The transformed scientist then turned his attention to Ben, his reptilian features twisted into an expression of malevolent joy. His eyes, which had once belonged to a brilliant and compassionate man, now glowed with an inhuman hunger for violence.

"You're next!" he growled, his voice a sibillant rasp that seemed to emerge from the depths of his transformed throat. "I'm going to crush your skull like an eggshell!"

Ben's response was immediate and filled with determination. He had been holding back, trying to use non-lethal force against what remained of Dr. Connors. But with Peter down and their situation desperate, it was time to abandon such restraints.

"That's exactly what I was hoping you'd say," Ben replied, his voice carrying a note of grim satisfaction.

He raised his left hand, and the familiar interface of the Omnitrix emerged from his wrist with its characteristic mechanical precision. The device's central core began to glow with an inner light as it prepared to unleash the transformation he had been saving for just such a moment.

"Four Arms!"

The transformation began immediately, green energy cascading over his body as the alien DNA rewrote his cellular structure. His frame expanded dramatically, muscles bulging and multiplying as his height increased by several feet. His skin took on a reddish hue, and most importantly, two additional arms sprouted from his torso, each one as powerful and capable as the original pair.

Ben—now in the form of the Tetramand warrior known as Four Arms—faced off against the transformed Dr. Connors. The battle between monsters was about to begin, and this time, Ben had the tools necessary to match his opponent's enhanced strength and ferocity.

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