Tonight was one of many nights where Doc Ock tends to tinker. As he steps into the abandoned warehouse that serves as his makeshift lair, the sound of metal clanking against metal fills the air. The telepathic control he exerts over his mechanical arms is evident as they move with fluidity and precision, obeying his every command without hesitation.

Seated at a makeshift workbench littered with schematics and half-completed inventions, Doc Ock begins to meticulously assemble a device of sinister design. His brow furrows in concentration as he manipulates the intricate components, his mind already calculating the chaos and destruction it will unleash upon the city.

But even as he revels in his own brilliance, there is a flicker of something deeper within Otto's gaze. A fleeting moment of regret, a pang of guilt for the path he has chosen. Yet, it is quickly extinguished by the burning desire for power and vengeance that consumes him.