Thankfully, Hershel’s aid did not go to waste as the sudden intrusion of another into Otto’s brain managed to jostle him out of his heroic stupor, leading him to catch the spear and spin around it to slow his descent. After a moment to orient himself to the ground, he dropped. He didn’t provide any input as the rest of the incident occurred, only nodding to Hershel once the deed was done and boarding the airplane. When he did, Spider Man would only be seen looking at his hands.
Because they weren’t his hands. Or maybe they were, but that heroism? That self sacrifice? That headlong charge into danger in spite of knowing he might not make it out alive? That was Spider Man to a tee, but it wasn’t Otto Octavius, also known as Doctor Octopus. So why did he do it?
The most rational explanation was muscle memory from Parker’s half of his current memories and knowledge. But that would conflict with his own tendencies to override such controls and move away from the danger. There wasn’t even a practical purpose! Someone else could have done it, so why did he risk life and limb to do it? Which left a singular option: his body wasn’t his for that moment. Something had, momentarily, wrested control of his body. But since no one else would have the means or the desire to affect him, one option remained.
Parker wasn’t dead. And that terrified him.
What also spooked Otto was that risking his life felt good. Not in the sense of catharsis but in the sense of moral fulfillment. That he threw himself on the sword for others would make him feel at ease put him at odds with his previous behavior, but he also supposed that it wasn’t the worst development. He had to BECOME Spider Man, and Spider Man would do such things. But so suddenly, and so vigorously? A frightening prospect.
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