[THURSDAY, 0600 HOURS - TRAINING FACILITY, DAY FOUR]
Peter woke in Gwen's bed, her warmth pressed against him, her breathing soft and steady. The connection between their symbiotes was a comfortable hum in the back of his mind—contentment, satisfaction, protection.
GOOD MORNING. YOUR MATE SLEEPS PEACEFULLY.
She's not my 'mate.' She's my girlfriend.
SEMANTICS. YOU HAVE BONDED. MATED. CLAIMED EACH OTHER. THE TERMS ARE EQUIVALENT.
Peter carefully extracted himself from Gwen's embrace, not wanting to wake her. He dressed quickly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before slipping out.
The hallway was empty—everyone else still asleep. Peter made his way to the training room, expecting to find Eddie already there.
He was right.
But Eddie wasn't alone.
Norman was with him, both men moving through what looked like a brutal sparring session. Norman's Anti-Venom symbiote formed white armor across his body while Eddie fought with pure human skill and desperation.
"Your left is dropping," Norman said, blocking a punch. "You're telegraphing your moves."
"I haven't sparred with someone in six months," Eddie grunted, trying a leg sweep that Norman easily avoided.
"Then you're out of practice. Again."
Peter watched them for several minutes, impressed by Eddie's tenacity. The man was clearly exhausted but refused to quit, pushing himself beyond reasonable limits.
HE TRAINS TO BE WORTHY. TO BE STRONG ENOUGH TO PROTECT MY CHILD WHEN REUNITED.
He's going to hurt himself.
PERHAPS. BUT HE WILL NOT STOP. HIS WILL IS IRON.
Norman finally called a halt, Eddie collapsing to the mat, chest heaving. "Better. You're remembering your training. Military?"
"Marines. Three years before I went into journalism." Eddie wiped sweat from his face. "Learned hand-to-hand at Parris Island. Thought I'd left that life behind."
"Nothing's ever left behind. It's all preparing us for what comes next." Norman offered a hand, pulling Eddie up. "You'll do fine on Saturday. Trust your instincts."
Peter approached. "Morning. You two are up early."
"Couldn't sleep," Eddie said, echoing his words from yesterday. "Nightmares again."
"Did Venom's treatment help at all?"
"A little. But the closer we get to Saturday, the worse it gets. It's like my body knows reunion is close and it's... screaming for it." Eddie looked at Peter. "Does it ever stop? The connection? The need?"
"I don't know. Venom and I have never been separated." Peter felt the symbiote's presence in his mind, always there, always aware. "I don't want to find out."
NOR DO I. SEPARATION FROM YOU WOULD BE... UNBEARABLE.
The rest of the team filtered in over the next fifteen minutes. Gwen arrived looking pleased with herself, shooting Peter a private smile that made his heart skip. Through their bond, he felt her contentment, her happiness, her love.
YOUR MATE IS SATISFIED. WELL DONE.
Stop calling her my mate!
NEVER.
Norman had them running a new type of drill—live fire exercises with rubber bullets and stun rounds. The goal was to learn to dodge while under actual pressure.
"MOVE!" Norman shouted as automated turrets opened fire.
Peter and Gwen moved together instinctively, their bond allowing them to anticipate each other's movements. Where Peter webbed obstacles for cover, Gwen used electricity to disable turrets. Eddie fought with brutal efficiency, using every bit of cover, advancing when he could, retreating when necessary.
Harry coordinated from overwatch, calling out positions and threats. Ned managed the technical aspects, hacking turret targeting systems to give the field team advantages. MJ moved through the chaos with surprising grace, having absorbed Norman's close-combat training better than anyone expected.
"Good!" Norman called after the exercise. "You're thinking like a unit now. Moving together. Covering each other's weaknesses."
"Only took getting shot at," MJ muttered, rubbing a bruise from where a rubber bullet had tagged her shoulder.
During breakfast, Harry pulled Peter aside. "I need to talk to you. Privately."
They stepped into an empty conference room. Harry looked nervous, uncertain—unusual for someone usually so confident.
"What's wrong?" Peter asked.
"Nothing's wrong. I just... I've been thinking. About enhancement. About getting a symbiote." Harry met Peter's eyes. "I want in. Properly. Not just as support. As a fighter."
INTERESTING. THE WEALTHY ONE WISHES TO JOIN THE BONDED.
"Harry, this isn't something to rush into—"
"I'm not rushing. I've been thinking about it since you cured my dad. Since I saw what you and Gwen can do. Since I realized that on Saturday, you're all going into danger and I'll be sitting in a van." Harry's jaw set. "I'm tired of being protected. I want to protect. I want to fight beside you, not behind you."
"The bonding is permanent," Peter warned. "You'll never be normal again. Your DNA will change. Your entire life will change."
"Good. Normal got my family a genetic death sentence. Normal got me watching my father slowly die for years. Normal is overrated." Harry leaned forward. "Peter, you're my best friend. You saved my life. Saved my dad's life. Let me stand beside you. Really stand beside you."
Peter looked at his friend—his brother, really—and saw absolute determination.
HE IS WORTHY. I SENSE IT. HIS WILL IS STRONG. HIS HEART IS PURE. HE WOULD MAKE EXCELLENT HOST.
"I need to check with Venom. And with Norman. This isn't just my decision."
"Fair. But Peter? I'm doing this. With or without approval. I'd rather have your blessing."
Peter sighed. "Let me talk to Venom and Norman. We'll figure it out."
Later that morning, during power development, Peter pulled Norman aside and explained Harry's request.
Norman's expression was complicated—pride, fear, resignation. "He's his own person. Old enough to make his own choices. But as his father, the idea of him getting enhanced, putting himself in danger..." He trailed off.
"You could forbid it," Peter said.
"I could. And he'd do it anyway. Probably in some reckless, unsupervised way that would get him killed." Norman rubbed his face. "No. Better to do it properly. With oversight. With training. With the best possible circumstances."
"Venom says he's worthy. That he'd make an excellent host."
"Then we do it. Tonight. Give him tomorrow to adjust and learn control before Saturday." Norman looked at Peter. "You'll oversee the bonding? Make sure it goes smoothly?"
"Of course."
I WILL CREATE SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR THE WEALTHY ONE. SOMETHING THAT MATCHES HIS NATURE. STRATEGIC. INTELLIGENT. TACTICAL.
That afternoon brought a surprise: SHIELD delivered a package.
Agent Hill arrived personally, carrying a large case. "Fury sends his regards. Also, equipment."
She opened the case to reveal six sleek devices—communications units far more advanced than the ones they'd been using.
"Encrypted beyond anything commercially available," Hill explained. "Unhackable, untraceable, with global range. Also, these."
She produced what looked like high-tech watches. "Biometric monitors. They'll track your vitals during missions and relay data to your support team. If someone goes down, we'll know immediately."
"SHIELD is being generous," Norman observed.
"SHIELD is invested in your success. Alchemax is a threat to everyone. You take them down, everyone benefits." Hill's expression was neutral. "Also, Fury wanted me to relay intelligence. We've detected unusual activity at Alchemax facilities worldwide. Shipments. Personnel movements. Whatever Phase Two is, it's not just New York. It's global."
"How global?" MJ asked.
"Six cities. New York, Los Angeles, London, Tokyo, Berlin, Sydney. All moving simultaneously. All with Alchemax facilities or shell companies operating in the area."
"They're not just testing symbiotes," Gwen said, understanding dawning. "They're deploying them. Creating enhanced soldiers across the globe."
"That's our assessment. Which is why Saturday matters. You hit their research facility, you might find information about the other sites. Locations, timetables, personnel. Intel that could help SHIELD shut down the entire operation."
"No pressure," Ned muttered.
Hill actually smiled—brief, but genuine. "You're kids taking on a multinational corporation. Pressure is the least of your problems. But for what it's worth? Fury believes in you. He doesn't say that often."
After Hill left, the team gathered to process the new information.
"Six cities," Eddie said. "That's not an operation. That's a war. They're building an army."
"Then we need to know what we're up against," Norman said. "MJ, what did your drone reconnaissance find?"
MJ pulled up footage from her surveillance drones. Strickland's facility appeared on screen—a large compound hidden in dense forest, surrounded by high fences and security checkpoints.
"Thermal imaging shows approximately forty people inside at any given time. Heavy security—guards, cameras, patrol patterns. But here's the interesting part." She zoomed in on a specific building. "This section has unusual power consumption. Way more than the rest of the facility. And the temperature is kept precisely at -80 degrees Celsius."
"Cryo storage," Gwen said immediately. "That's where they keep the symbiotes."
"Probably. There's also this." MJ showed another section. "Heavy fortification. Armed guards 24/7. Multiple layers of security. That's likely where Strickland works. Where the important research happens."
"And where Eddie's symbiote is," Eddie said, his voice tight.
MY CHILD. SO CLOSE. I CAN ALMOST FEEL THEM.
"How do we breach?" Harry asked.
"Carefully," Norman said. "We can't just smash through the front door. They'll destroy evidence, kill hostages, or worse—deploy whatever enhanced assets they have on site."
"We need a distraction," Peter said. "Something that draws their attention while we infiltrate."
"The gala," Gwen realized. "If they think we're all at the gala in Manhattan, they won't expect an attack on the facility."
"Which is why we make sure they know Peter and Gwen are at the gala," Norman said. "Very publicly. Visibly. While Eddie and I hit the facility. They can't defend both at once."
"What if they split their forces?" MJ asked. "Send enhanced units to both locations?"
"Then we adapt. That's what the comms are for." Norman pulled up tactical maps. "But I think they'll concentrate on defense. Protecting their research. They're scientists, not soldiers. They'll turtle up and try to wait us out."
"Then we don't give them time to wait," Eddie said. "We hit fast, grab the symbiotes, and get out before they can respond."
PETER. I MUST WARN YOU. MY CHILD—EDDIE'S SYMBIOTE—HAS BEEN IMPRISONED FOR SIX MONTHS. THEY WILL BE TRAUMATIZED. ANGRY. POSSIBLY UNSTABLE.
Will they recognize Eddie? Trust him?
I HOPE SO. BUT TRAUMA CHANGES US. MAKES US... UNPREDICTABLE.
Peter relayed Venom's concern to Eddie, who nodded grimly. "I know. I'm prepared for him to not remember me. To be damaged. To need time to heal. I don't care. I'm bringing him home."
The afternoon brought more tactical planning—entry points, retreat routes, contingencies. By evening, they had a solid plan. Not perfect, but workable.
At 1900 hours, Norman gathered everyone in the medical bay.
"Harry has made a decision," Norman announced. "He wants to be enhanced. To join the bonded."
Gwen looked shocked. "Harry, are you sure? This is permanent—"
"I'm sure," Harry said firmly. "I've watched all of you get stronger, braver, more capable. I'm tired of being the weak link. I want to stand beside you. Really stand beside you."
"Then we do this properly," Norman said. "Peter, you're the most experienced with bonding. You'll oversee."
Peter nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility. "Venom, are you ready?"
YES. I HAVE PREPARED SOMETHING SPECIAL. A STRATEGIC SYMBIOTE. GREEN AND BLACK, LIKE EARTH'S FORESTS. ADAPTIVE. INTELLIGENT. PERFECT FOR ONE WHO THINKS RATHER THAN MERELY FIGHTS.
"Lie down," Peter instructed Harry, who stretched out on the medical bed, clearly nervous but determined.
Peter placed his hand on Harry's chest. "This is going to feel weird. Intense. You'll feel the symbiote merging with you. Don't fight it. Let it happen. Trust the process."
"I trust you," Harry said.
Peter felt Venom surge, creating something new—a piece of itself, but distinct, unique. A child being born for a specific purpose.
The green and black symbiote flowed from Peter's palm onto Harry's chest. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Harry gasped, his back arching as the bonding began. The symbiote spread across his body in intricate patterns—green and black, constantly shifting, beautiful and terrifying at once.
IT IS DONE. THE WEALTHY ONE IS NOW HOBGOBLIN. TACTICAL SYMBIOTE. ENHANCED INTELLIGENCE. STRATEGIC THINKING. DANGER PREDICTION. HE WILL SEE PATTERNS OTHERS MISS. ANTICIPATE THREATS BEFORE THEY MANIFEST.
Harry's eyes opened—but they weren't quite his eyes anymore. They glowed faintly green, sharp and calculating.
"Whoa," Harry breathed. "I can see... everything. All the possibilities. All the outcomes. It's like my brain is processing at ten times normal speed."
"Welcome to the club," Gwen said, smiling. "How do you feel?"
"Powerful. Terrified. Alive." Harry sat up, looking at his hands as the symbiote rippled across them. "This is incredible. Is this what you all feel all the time?"
"You get used to it," Peter said. "Mostly."
ANOTHER CHILD SENT INTO THE WORLD. ANOTHER HOST PROTECTED. THE WEB GROWS STRONGER.
Norman approached his son, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're enhanced now. Part of this. There's no going back."
"Good," Harry said. "No going back. Only forward."
That night, Peter was back in his own room when his phone buzzed. Text from an unknown number—the same one that had been taunting them all week:
Tomorrow is your last chance to prepare. Saturday, everything changes. You'll have to choose: save the many at the gala, or save the few at my facility. Let's see what kind of heroes you really are. PS - Tell Eddie Brock his precious symbiote says hello. It remembers him. It screams for him. Every moment of every day. Such exquisite suffering. - A.S.
Peter's blood ran cold. He forwarded the message to the team.
Eddie's response was immediate: I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill Aaron Strickland with my bare hands.
Norman: No. We capture him. Extract information. Then turn him over to SHIELD. We don't become murderers.
Eddie: He's torturing my symbiote. MY OTHER HALF. HE DESERVES TO DIE.
Peter typed carefully: Eddie, I understand your rage. But if you kill him, you become like him. We're better than that. We save your symbiote, we stop Alchemax, and we bring Strickland to justice. The right way.
A long pause. Then: Fine. But if he's hurt my symbiote beyond repair, all bets are off.
Peter understood. If someone had hurt Venom like that, he'd want vengeance too.
EDDIE'S RAGE IS RIGHTEOUS. BUT DANGEROUS. HE MAY LOSE CONTROL WHEN HE SEES HIS SYMBIOTE. WE MUST BE READY TO INTERVENE.
I know. One crisis at a time.
Another text arrived, this one from Gwen: Can't sleep. Thinking about Saturday. Can I come over?
Peter smiled: Always.
Five minutes later, Gwen slipped into his room, wearing pajamas and looking worried.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Hey." Peter pulled her into his arms. "What's wrong?"
"Everything. The mission. The stakes. The possibility that we might fail. That people might die. That we might die." She looked up at him. "I'm scared, Peter."
"Me too."
"But you don't show it. You act so confident, so sure—"
"That's the mask. The front I put on so everyone else stays calm." Peter held her tighter. "Inside, I'm terrified. But I can't let anyone see that. If I show fear, everyone else panics."
"You don't have to hide from me. From us." Gwen pulled back slightly. "Through the bond, I can feel your fear anyway. You're not as good at hiding as you think."
SHE IS CORRECT. YOUR EMOTIONS ARE CLEAR TO THOSE BONDED WITH MY OFFSPRING.
"Then you know I'm scared. And you came anyway."
"Because being scared together is better than being scared alone." Gwen kissed him softly. "Whatever happens Saturday, we face it together. Promise?"
"Promise."
They lay together, not talking, just being present. Through the bond, Peter felt Gwen's fear mixing with his own, but also her determination, her love, her absolute trust in him.
Eventually, they both drifted off, still intertwined.
Tomorrow would bring final preparations.
Saturday would bring war.
But tonight, they had each other.
And that would have to be enough.
[FRIDAY, 0600 HOURS - FINAL DAY OF PREPARATION]
The morning session was different. Instead of brutal training, Norman had them running through the actual mission plan. Step by step. Action by action. Until everyone could recite it in their sleep.
"Peter and Gwen arrive at the gala at 2000 hours," Norman narrated as they walked through the scenario. "You're my protégés. Gifted students I'm mentoring. Stick to the cover story. Mingle. Look young and impressive but not threatening."
"While we do that," Eddie said, picking up the narrative, "you, me, and Harry breach the facility. Ned kills their comms and disables alarms. We go in quiet, locate the symbiote containment, and extract."
"If we encounter enhanced assets?" Harry asked.
"Avoid if possible. Engage only if necessary. Our priority is extraction, not confrontation." Norman looked at each of them. "Clear?"
Nods all around.
"Good. Now let's talk about what happens when things go wrong."
They spent hours on contingencies. What if the gala is attacked? What if the facility has more defenses than expected? What if one of them is captured? What if enhanced individuals attack both locations simultaneously?
For every scenario, they developed a response.
"You're thinking like tacticians now," Norman said with approval. "Like soldiers. That's what we need."
The afternoon brought an unexpected visitor.
A SHIELD transport arrived, and out stepped Nick Fury himself, accompanied by two people Peter recognized from news footage.
A woman with red hair and dangerous eyes—Black Widow.
And a man carrying a bow—Hawkeye.
"Mr. Parker," Fury said. "Thought I'd introduce you to some allies. Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton—meet The Web."
Black Widow's assessment was immediate and thorough—her eyes cataloguing each person, calculating threat levels, identifying weaknesses. "They're young."
"They're effective," Fury countered. "They took down six Carnage symbiotes. They've been training hard. They're ready."
"Ready to die, maybe," Hawkeye said, but not unkindly. "No offense, kids, but you're going up against a black ops corporation with unlimited resources. That's suicide."
"Then it's lucky we're hard to kill," Gwen said, letting electricity dance across her fingers.
Black Widow's eyebrow raised. "Enhanced. Multiple abilities. Interesting." She looked at Peter. "You're the leader?"
"I'm... yeah. I guess I am."
"Then lead. Don't second-guess. Don't hesitate. Your team needs certainty, even if you don't feel certain. Fake it until you make it."
"Why are you here?" MJ asked suspiciously. "No offense, but SHIELD doesn't send Avengers for social calls."
"Smart girl," Fury said. "We're here because tomorrow matters. If you succeed at the facility, if you get intelligence on Alchemax's global operations, we can shut them down worldwide. SHIELD will hit their other facilities simultaneously. You'll be starting a domino effect."
"And if we fail?" Peter asked.
"Then Alchemax deploys enhanced soldiers in six cities. Chaos. Death. War." Fury's expression was grim. "So don't fail."
"Helpful," Eddie muttered.
Black Widow approached Eddie, studying him with professional interest. "You're the one who was briefly bonded. Six months ago. You've been looking for your symbiote ever since."
"How do you know that?"
"SHIELD knows everything. Including the fact that you've been stalking Alchemax operatives, breaking into their facilities, and generally making yourself a target." She leaned closer. "When you get your symbiote back tomorrow, don't lose control. Don't let rage drive you. That's how good people become monsters."
"I'll keep that in mind," Eddie said flatly.
Hawkeye pulled Peter aside. "Real talk, kid. I've been doing this a while. Fought aliens, gods, monsters. And every time, the mission goes wrong. Something unexpected happens. When that happens tomorrow, you adapt. You improvise. You survive. Got it?"
"Got it."
"Good. Also—" Hawkeye lowered his voice, "—watch the guy obsessed with his symbiote. Obsession makes people reckless. Makes them liabilities."
"He's not a liability. He's family."
"Family can be liabilities too. Just watch him."
The Avengers didn't stay long. They delivered equipment—some advanced SHIELD tech, a few weapons, backup communication devices—and then left.
"That was surreal," Ned said after they'd gone. "We just met actual Avengers."
"And they think we're going to fail," Harry added.
"Then we prove them wrong," Norman said firmly. "We succeed. We show them what The Web can do."
THEY DOUBT US. GOOD. DOUBT BREEDS UNDERESTIMATION. UNDERESTIMATION BREEDS MISTAKES.
The evening brought costume preparation. MJ had been working with some of Norman's designers to create actual uniforms—not just symbiote manifestations, but real tactical gear.
Peter's suit was sleek black with red accents, the spider emblem prominent on his chest. Made from advanced materials that could withstand bullets and fire, with built-in tech that Ned had designed.
"It's beautiful," Peter said, running his hands over the material.
"It's functional," MJ corrected. "Beautiful is a bonus. Try it on."
The suit fit perfectly, moving with him like a second skin. Venom immediately integrated with it, the symbiote flowing through the material, adding organic components to the technological base.
NOW WE LOOK LIKE A PROPER HERO.
Gwen's suit was white and silver with blue accents, designed to channel her bio-electric powers. Eddie's was black and white, prepared for when he rebonded with his symbiote. Norman's was pure white, emphasizing his role as healer. Harry's was green and black, tactical and understated.
"We look like a team," Gwen said, everyone standing together in their new suits.
"We look like heroes," MJ corrected.
That night, the team gathered for a final briefing. Norman pulled up the complete mission plan one last time.
"Tomorrow, we change everything. We stop Alchemax. We rescue innocent symbiotes. We show the world what The Web stands for." He looked at each of them. "Questions?"
"Just one," Peter said. "After tomorrow, assuming we survive, what happens to us? To The Web?"
"We keep going," Norman said simply. "There will always be threats. Always be people who need help. We keep doing this. Together."
"As a family," Gwen added.
"As a family," Norman agreed.
They dispersed to their rooms. Tomorrow would come early. Tomorrow would be dangerous.
But tonight, they were ready.
Peter found Gwen waiting in his room again.
"Couldn't stay away?" he asked, smiling.
"Last night before everything changes. Wanted to spend it with you." She moved into his arms. "Peter, whatever happens tomorrow—"
"We'll be fine."
"You can't know that."
"I know we'll fight for each other. That we'll do everything we can to survive. That we won't give up." Peter kissed her forehead. "That's enough."
They made love slowly, tenderly, savoring each moment. Through the bond, they shared everything—fear and hope, love and determination, the certainty that whatever tomorrow brought, they'd face it together.
Afterward, holding Gwen close, Peter whispered, "I love you."
"I love you too."
SLEEP NOW. TOMORROW, WE GO TO WAR.
Peter closed his eyes, Gwen's heartbeat steady against his chest, the symbiote's presence a comforting weight in his mind.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
But tonight, they had each other.
And that was everything.
TO BE CONTINUED...