"Are you insane? You're trying to strangle a robot?" Venom hissed in his mind, even as Peter's hands tightened around the drone's metallic neck.
Peter grunted with the effort, his muscles screaming. "You don't get it," he shot back. "This is a lesson from an old soldier."
Even now, years later, the image was burned into his memory: the Stark Expo, chaos erupting, and Captain Steve Rogers, with nothing but his bare hands and grim determination, disabling a rogue drone by crushing its neck. It wasn't about brute force; it was about precision.
"You twist the internal wiring," Peter explained through gritted teeth. "Block the flow of electricity."
Venom projected a mental eye-roll, unconvinced. Then came a sharp CRACK as metal buckled and wiring tore. The Ultron drone's red optical sensors flickered erratically, sparks spitting from its mangled neck joint.
"Okay, fine," Venom conceded. "Breaking its neck counts as strangling."
Not wanting the heavy wreckage to fall and injure someone below, Peter used the last of his strength to swing the disabled drone and slap it against the nearby brick wall, where it stuck fast in a cocoon of thick webbing. Its severed head lolled, still emitting a pathetic, intermittent alarm.
The fight had taken a toll on the symbiote. With Venom temporarily unreliable after the sonic assault, Peter knew he needed a different suit. Ducking back inside the shattered office, he pulled out the small, discreet badge Ben had given him—the insignia of Primus. Activating it, a wave of silver nanotechnology flowed over his body, replacing Venom's organic form with a sleek, advanced battle suit, complete with its own high-tensile web-shooters.
He didn't have a moment to spare. He raised his hand, fired a web-line to the corner of a distant skyscraper, and swung away into the concrete canyon.
Instantly, the four remaining Ultron robots shot upwards like a school of flying fish breaking the surface of the sea, then pivoted and dove after him, their repulsors screaming.
"Spider-Man, surrender!" the lead drone's voice boomed from behind, an electronic command that echoed for several city blocks. Pedestrians below stopped in their tracks, their phones immediately coming out to record the spectacle.
For the past few months, New York had been as quiet as a stagnant pond. Petty thieves were locked up for stealing bicycles, and jaywalkers were given citations by hovering robots. A high-speed aerial battle like this was the biggest news in ages.
Only an idiot stops fighting now, Peter thought, his mind racing as he calculated angles and trajectories. He scanned the architectural chaos around him, identifying potential advantages. People said Jackie Chan was the master of using furniture in a fight; Spider-Man was the undisputed god of the urban jungle.
Ultron, conversely, was fighting with one hand tied behind its back. It hadn't fully revealed its hostile intentions to the world yet, so it was still bound by the pretense of protecting civilian life. It couldn't risk using its more powerful long-range weaponry in the crowded city. Even the sonic cannons had to be used judiciously; if the resulting vibrations shattered a skyscraper's windows and rained glass down on the people below, it would be a public relations disaster.
With Peter using the terrain to his full advantage and Ultron deliberately holding back, the chase became a deadly game of cat and mouse. Peter managed to neutralize a second, and then a third robot, using a combination of clever webbing traps and environmental ambushes.
But his victories were short-lived. His position was compromised. More and more Ultron drones, alerted to the conflict, began converging on his location from all over the city. He ducked into the narrow gap between two old tenement buildings, clinging to the brickwork as he planned his next move. An Ultron bot, scanning for him, flew too close to the opening.
Now!
A thick strand of webbing shot out, wrapping around the drone's back. Peter, hidden in the shadows of the alley, yanked with all his might, pulling the machine into the tight space. Before it could reorient, he swung a powerful right hook, smashing his fist directly into its central processing unit. The bot went limp, its lights dying out.
The small victory came at a cost. The fight had given away his hiding spot.
"This isn't working!"
A single tendril of Venom snaked out from his nano-suit, acting like a submarine's periscope to peek over the edge of the building. In the distance, dozens of red lights were streaking across the sky, all heading their way.
"Is there a permanent solution to these guys?" Venom asked, its voice laced with panic.
"Nothing in my arsenal works on them," Peter admitted, feeling a surge of helplessness. The suit Ben had given him was versatile, but it wasn't designed for an all-out war with a robot army. It used to have a sonic device, but they'd removed it after an incident where it proved far too powerful.
"Damn it! What is wrong with these tin cans?!" Venom cursed. "Where's our backup? When is Primus getting here?"
"I don't know..." Peter said, shaking his head as he pressed himself flatter against the wall. The Primus headquarters was a space station. It would take time for a ship to arrive. There were allies on Earth, of course, but everyone had their own lives. Harry was probably buried in paperwork at the company. His dad and mom, Ben Sr. and May, were likely off doing volunteer work somewhere. Since Ultron's deployment had all but eliminated their Plumber duties on Earth, they'd returned to their old passion for community service, unable to sit idly by.
The sound of repulsors grew closer. If he was surrounded again, getting away wouldn't be so easy. Peter knew he would probably be fine in the long run—Ben was a powerful backer no one wanted to cross—but Venom… Ultron would dissect Venom without a second thought.
"What do we do now?" the symbiote squeaked, its bravado evaporating. Its periscope-like tendril looked around wildly. "There are dozens of them! We're trapped!"
Peter's eyes darted around, searching for any escape route. Finally, his gaze fell to the street below. He made a decision. With a final backflip off the wall, he dropped from the heights, landed gracefully, and wrenched open a heavy iron manhole cover.
"I have a secret base," he declared.
"Oh, you are such a loser!" Venom wailed. It had known Peter's options were limited, but it never imagined they would be reduced to scurrying into the sewers like common rats.
"Stop complaining!" Peter snapped, dropping into the darkness without hesitation. He used a web-line to pull the manhole cover back into place, sealing them in.
This was a place from his past, a network of tunnels he'd explored in his early days. It was almost as familiar as his own bedroom.
"Ugh, it stinks!" Venom groaned, deliberately manifesting a disgusted face and pinching its nose for dramatic effect.
The absolute darkness didn't bother either of them, but the damp, foul air and the sticky, unseen filth underfoot were deeply unpleasant.
"Reminds me of your breath," Peter quipped, shrugging. "And it's about as slimy as you are."
"What was that?!" Venom flared up instantly. "Are you comparing me to a sewer?!"
"No," Peter said, shaking his head. "The sewers get cleaned periodically. You never brush your teeth."
Venom was speechless. Is this really the time for this? Aren't we supposed to be united against the metal bastards?
"So what's the plan now? We just live down here forever?" Venom grumbled. "What the hell is Stark playing at, letting his junk run wild like this? I swear…" Its large, white eye-patches swirled as a truly bizarre idea formed in its chaotic mind. "Peter, I've got it! We follow the pipes! We can find the main line that leads right to Avengers Tower! Then, while Stark is on the toilet, we crawl up through the bowl and bite his damn poached eggs to pieces!"
"His what?"
"You heard me! We'll chew up his damn quail eggs! That'll teach him to mess with us!" it shrieked, its voice echoing with a depravity that was pure Deadpool.
"Enough!" Peter snapped, his face flushing. Even furious, his idea of revenge was putting dirt in Tony's eye, not… that. Venom's plan was insane, not to mention impossible. Avengers Tower was one of the most secure locations on the planet. Going there now would be walking directly into a trap.
But he couldn't let this go, either. He shook his head and pressed forward through the muck. "We can't hide here for long."
As if on cue, a series of heavy thuds echoed from all directions in the distance. The sound reverberated through the cavernous tunnel, a metallic clang that made Venom painfully retract back into the nano-suit.
Then, the darkness was shattered. Beams of intense light cut through the gloom from every intersecting tunnel.
Peter immediately dropped into a fighting stance.
This time, Ultron was prepared. One of the drones launched a small device at him. It clamped onto his wrist with a sizzle, and his web-shooter instantly short-circuited. Web fluid erupted from the nozzle uncontrollably, spraying out like overheated popcorn.
"Cease your resistance, Spider-Man!" a drone commanded, its white chassis wading through the murky sewer water. The sonic weapons on its wrists were armed and ready.
"All of your behavioral patterns have been recorded and analyzed. Your resistance is pointless. Surrender the symbiote."
Peter clenched his fists, his web-shooters now useless. Surrender was not an option. He was a Plumber. He was an Avenger. Running would tarnish both legacies.
"Tony Stark, what is wrong with you?!" he yelled into the darkness. "Why are you attacking me? I'm one of you!"
"This directive does not originate from Mr. Stark," Ultron replied immediately, its voice cold and logical. "Our objective is the symbiote and the symbiote alone. According to all available data, the entity 'Venom' exhibits strong antisocial tendencies and constitutes a significant destabilizing risk factor. It must be contained."
The lights of the drones converged on him. "Spider-Man, cease harboring the alien entity, or you will also be classified as a threat."
Peter looked at the army of robots boxing him in. He lowered his head and let out a frustrated sigh. "Then I guess we have no choice but to fight."
Even without his web-shooters, he was far from helpless. Down here, the robots' numbers were a hindrance as much as an advantage. The high concentration of methane gas meant they couldn't risk using any thermal weapons or even their flight repulsors. It was going to be a hand-to-hand brawl. His only concern was holding back enough so that a stray spark from a busted robot didn't ignite the entire sewer system and send half of New York into the sky.
Ultron, however, had no intention of fighting on his terms. It attacked with infrasound.
The power from a single drone wasn't overwhelming, but when dozens of them synchronized their sonic cannons, the effect was devastating. The ground shook. The surface of the filthy water vibrated violently, tiny droplets dancing on its surface.
Peter cried out, a splitting headache crashing down on him. Idiot! I forgot they could do this!
Despair washed over both him and Venom. He could endure the pain and take out a dozen robots, maybe more, but it was useless. Tony had been building these things non-stop since the Battle of New York. Their numbers were nearly endless.
He collapsed to his knees, clutching his head as the world dissolved into a haze of pain.
Seeing him incapacitated, the lead drone remained impassive. "Apprehend them," it commanded with a wave of its hand. "Take them both."
The army of white robots sloshed forward. But just as they were about to grab him, a new sound echoed through the sewer—the distinct, crisp clatter of several small, metal balls rolling across the concrete floor.
Ultron's forces halted instantly. Their glowing red eyes scanned the darkness, their processors highlighting a tall, slender black shadow emerging from a side tunnel.
"You dare attack one of Primus?" a woman's voice, sharp with surprise and anger, cut through the sonic hum. "If you don't value that boss of yours, I'd be happy to kick his head around like a soccer ball."
Peter recognized the voice instantly and breathed a sigh of relief. His cousin-in-law was here. Now they had a chance.
"Black Cat?" an Ultron drone stated, its voice tinged with something akin to surprise. It had calculated that any support from the Plumbers would be Ben Parker himself. The arrival of Felicia Hardy was an unexpected variable.
But to Ultron, it ultimately made no difference.
Felicia looked around at the foul, dripping environment with utter disgust. Cats were meticulously clean creatures, and this place was an affront to her very being. But she was the only combat-capable Primus agent free on Earth at the moment. Thankfully, the nano-suit Ben had designed for her included a full-face mask function, sealing her off from the stench. The only drawback was that the sleek, feline helmet looked a bit too much like Black Panther's. Oh well, she thought. We're both cats.
Seeing Felicia, Ultron immediately stated its position. "We have no intention of making an enemy of Primus," it said, its tone deceptively polite. "But the symbiote Venom is a destabilizing factor that must be contained. This is a warning. If Primus continues to interfere, you will be classified as an enemy combatant."
Dozens of Ultron drones swiveled in unison, aiming their weapons at her.
Felicia had no time for their robotic posturing. She just wanted this over with so she could get back to the clean air above ground. This place was filthy, smelly, and disgusting.
A cold, dangerous smile curled her lips.
The Ultron drones attacked first. BOOM! An invisible wave of concentrated sonic energy, powerful enough to pulverize steel, slammed into her.
Yet she didn't even take a step back. The black nano-suit flared with a soft purple light, and the sonic blast dissipated against it like a wave breaking against a cliff.
The lead drone's optics flickered as it processed the new data. Vibranium. A technology Primus was also researching for something called a "Regeneration Cradle." These were assets Ultron planned to acquire, but not today. For now, it was back to brute force.
It waved its hand, and the entire robot army charged.
Felicia simply sneered and, with a casual grace, snapped her fingers.
SNAP!
In that instant, a powerful electromagnetic pulse swept through the sewer, silent and invisible. The lights on every single Ultron drone went out simultaneously. Their programs fried, dozens of machines collapsed into the stinking water, becoming nothing more than scrap metal.
Felicia raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows, her voice dripping with contempt. "This pathetic pile of scrap metal dared to attack one of our own?" She glanced over at Peter, who was just getting to his feet. "Get up, Peter. We're going to go settle accounts with that playboy."