[SATURDAY, 1800 HOURS - OSBORN SAFE HOUSE, BROOKLYN]
Peter stared at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing the person looking back.
The tuxedo fit perfectly—tailored by Norman's personal clothier, probably costing more than Aunt May made in a month. His hair was styled, his face clean-shaven, his posture coached by Harry into something approaching high-society elegance.
He looked like someone who belonged at a billionaire's gala.
He felt like a kid from Queens playing dress-up.
YOU LOOK ACCEPTABLE. FOR A HUMAN.
High praise.
THE FEMALE WILL BE IMPRESSED.
A knock on the door. "Peter? You ready?" Gwen's voice, muffled through the wood.
"Yeah, come in."
The door opened, and Peter forgot how to breathe.
Gwen wore a floor-length silver dress that shimmered like her symbiote, her blonde hair styled in an elegant updo, makeup subtle but perfect. She looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine. Like royalty.
"Wow," Peter managed.
Gwen blushed, pleased. "You clean up pretty well yourself." She stepped closer, adjusting his bow tie. "Ready for this?"
"To infiltrate a corporate gala hosted by people who want to kill us while pretending to be Norman Osborn's protégés? Sure. Totally ready. No problem."
YOUR ANXIETY IS SHOWING.
I'm aware.
"It'll be fine," Gwen said, though Peter felt her nervousness through their bond. "We smile, we mingle, we gather intelligence, and we get out. Simple."
"Nothing about our lives is simple anymore."
"True." Gwen kissed him softly, careful not to smudge her lipstick. "But we're together. That helps."
They descended to the main floor where the rest of the team was gathering. Norman wore a custom three-piece suit that screamed wealth and power. Harry looked comfortable in his tuxedo—years of practice attending these events. Eddie wore tactical gear, his face set in grim determination. MJ and Ned were positioned at the mobile command center—a converted van packed with monitoring equipment.
"Final comms check," Ned said, his fingers flying across keyboards. Each team member touched their earpiece, confirming connection.
"Gala team, check in," Norman ordered.
"Peter, check."
"Gwen, check."
"Norman, check."
"Facility team, check in."
"Eddie, check."
"Harry, check."
"Overwatch team."
"Ned, online and ready."
"MJ, all surveillance systems operational."
Norman pulled up a holographic display showing both locations. "Synchronize watches. The gala begins at 2000 hours. We arrive at 1945. Facility team breaches at 2015—giving us time to be seen, establishing alibis. Any questions?"
Silence. They'd gone over this plan dozens of times. Everyone knew their role.
"Then let's move. Peter, Gwen—with me. Eddie, Harry—your transport leaves in thirty minutes. Ned, MJ—get the command van in position. Good hunting, everyone."
AND SO IT BEGINS.
Yeah. No turning back now.
THERE WAS NEVER ANY TURNING BACK. NOT SINCE THE MOMENT THAT SPIDER BIT YOU.
You have a point.
The drive to Manhattan was tense. Peter and Gwen sat in the back of Norman's limousine, holding hands, both their symbiotes quietly humming with anticipation.
"Remember," Norman said, "you're brilliant students I'm mentoring. Peter, you're interested in bioengineering. Gwen, genetic research. You're here to network, to meet potential sponsors for your education. You're young, impressive, but not threatening."
"We've got it," Peter said.
"And if things go wrong?"
"We adapt. We survive. We protect civilians." Peter looked at Norman. "And if the facility team needs help, we extract and go to them."
"Good." Norman checked his watch. "Twenty minutes."
Peter felt the city around them—millions of heartbeats, millions of lives, all going about their evening unaware that tonight might change everything. Somewhere in this city, Alchemax was preparing for Phase Two. Somewhere upstate, Eddie was about to face his demons.
And Peter and Gwen were walking into the lion's den wearing evening wear and fake smiles.
COURAGE, PETER. YOU HAVE FACED WORSE.
Have I?
...NO. BUT YOU WILL SURVIVE THIS ANYWAY. I WILL ENSURE IT.
The Alchemax building in Manhattan was impressive—a gleaming skyscraper of glass and steel, lit up for the occasion. Luxury vehicles lined the circular drive, depositing New York's elite. Security was heavy but discreet—men in suits with earpieces, scanning each guest.
"They're looking for enhanced individuals," Gwen whispered, noting the scanners.
"They won't find anything," Norman assured her. "Your symbiotes are organic. They read as part of your biological signature. You'll pass as normal."
'NORMAL' IS SUCH A LIMITING TERM.
They exited the limousine. Cameras flashed—paparazzi capturing arrivals. Norman waved, playing his role as the philanthropic billionaire perfectly. Peter and Gwen stayed slightly behind, looking appropriately young and impressed.
Security scanned them. Peter felt the technology wash over him, probing, analyzing. The symbiote shifted slightly, mimicking normal human biology. The scanner beeped green. Clear.
They were in.
The gala was held in a massive ballroom on the top floor—crystal chandeliers, marble floors, spectacular views of Manhattan. Hundreds of people in expensive clothes, drinking expensive champagne, discussing expensive things.
"I hate this already," Peter muttered.
"Smile," Gwen said through her teeth, her own smile bright and fake. "We're supposed to be impressed."
They were immediately approached by a woman in her fifties wearing diamonds that could probably fund a small country.
"Norman! Darling! So wonderful to see you!" Air kisses. Fake enthusiasm. "And who are these charming young people?"
"My protégés," Norman said smoothly. "Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy. Brilliant students. I'm sponsoring their education."
"How philanthropic!" The woman's eyes assessed them like merchandise. "And what are you studying, dears?"
"Bioengineering," Peter said, remembering his cover. "Specifically, genetic therapy applications."
"Fascinating! You should meet Dr. Stone. He's Alchemax's CEO. He'd be very interested in bright young minds." She turned, already moving away. "I'll send him over!"
As soon as she left, Peter let out a breath. "That was exhausting."
"That was one person," Norman said dryly. "There are two hundred more. Pace yourself."
Through his earpiece, Ned's voice crackled: "Gala team, you're on camera. Multiple surveillance feeds. They're definitely watching for threats."
"Noted," Norman replied quietly. "Facility team, status?"
Eddie's voice, tense: "Ten minutes out. All systems green."
"MJ here," another voice added. "I'm tracking unusual vehicle movements around the facility. More personnel than expected. They might be on alert."
"Or they're preparing for Phase Two," Harry suggested. "Either way, we proceed as planned."
Peter grabbed champagne from a passing waiter—not to drink, but to have something to do with his hands. Gwen did the same. They circulated, listening to conversations, gathering information.
Most of it was useless—gossip, business deals, who was sleeping with whom. But occasionally, something valuable emerged.
"—did you hear about the Berlin facility? Apparently they're ahead of schedule—"
"—Tokyo is requesting additional funding. Some kind of setback—"
"—Dr. Strickland is paranoid lately. Extra security at the research compound—"
Peter filed it all away, knowing Ned was recording everything through the hidden microphone in his bow tie.
Then the CEO appeared.
Tyler Stone was exactly as MJ's research suggested—mid-fifties, expensive suit, practiced smile that didn't reach his eyes. He approached with the confidence of someone who owned the room.
"Norman Osborn," Stone said, extending a hand. "Thank you for coming. I know our corporations are competitors, but I've always admired your work."
"Tyler." Norman shook his hand. "Likewise. Though I hear you're moving into some interesting new areas. Enhanced biology?"
"Merely exploring possibilities. The future of human evolution, some might say." Stone's eyes flicked to Peter and Gwen. "And these are your protégés?"
"Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy. Both exceptionally talented."
Stone's smile widened. "Parker. That name sounds familiar."
DANGER. HE KNOWS.
Peter's spider-sense tingled—not immediate threat, but potential. "Common name," Peter said easily. "There are probably dozens of Peter Parkers in New York."
"True, true." Stone's eyes lingered on them for a moment longer than comfortable. "Well, enjoy the evening. We'll be making an announcement later. Something... groundbreaking."
He moved away, leaving Peter with a cold feeling in his stomach.
"He knows something," Gwen whispered.
"Maybe. Or maybe he's just paranoid." Peter checked his watch. 2014 hours. "Facility team should be breaching any second."
[2015 HOURS - STRICKLAND RESEARCH FACILITY]
Eddie crouched in the forest outside the facility's perimeter fence, every muscle tense. Beside him, Norman's white symbiote armor gleamed faintly in the darkness. Harry monitored their tech, his newly bonded Hobgoblin symbiote enhancing his tactical awareness.
"Ned, we're in position," Eddie whispered into his comm.
"Roger. Initiating electronic countermeasures now." Ned's fingers flew across his keyboard back in the command van. "Cameras looping. Alarms disabled. You have a three-minute window before their systems detect the intrusion. Move fast."
Eddie didn't need to be told twice. He was over the fence in seconds, Norman and Harry right behind him. The facility loomed ahead—concrete and steel, lit by harsh floodlights.
THERE. I SENSE THEM. MY CHILDREN. SO MANY OF THEM. IN PAIN. CALLING OUT.
Eddie felt it too—a phantom sensation in his chest, like something vital was close. His symbiote. His other half. Right there, within reach.
"Eddie," Norman warned, "stay focused. Emotion makes you sloppy."
"I'm fine," Eddie gritted out, though his hands were shaking.
They moved through the compound using the infiltration route they'd memorized. Past the administrative building. Around the vehicle depot. Toward the research wing where MJ's surveillance had detected the cryo storage.
A guard appeared around the corner.
Eddie moved on instinct—grabbed the guard, hand over mouth, taking him down silently. Norman's Anti-Venom symbiote put the guard into deep sleep with a touch. Non-lethal. Clean.
"Good," Norman murmured. "You're learning control."
They reached the research wing. Harry hacked the door lock while Eddie kept watch. The door clicked open.
Inside was exactly what the drone footage suggested—a high-tech laboratory with containment units along one wall. And there, in the center—
Cryo chambers. Dozens of them.
Each containing a symbiote.
MY CHILDREN. OH, MY CHILDREN. WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU?
Eddie approached the chambers like a man in a dream. Each held a different symbiote—red, blue, purple, orange, colors he didn't have names for. All of them suspended in frozen stasis, trapped, isolated.
"Which one?" Norman asked. "Which is yours?"
Eddie moved down the line, his heart pounding. Then he saw it.
A black symbiote with white accents. Even frozen, even imprisoned, Eddie recognized it. Knew it in his bones.
"There," Eddie breathed. "That's him. That's my Venom."
WAIT. SOMETHING IS WRONG. THE SYMBIOTE—IT'S DIFFERENT. CHANGED.
"What do you mean?" Eddie demanded, not caring that he was talking to a voice only Peter could hear.
Through the comms, Peter's voice came through: "Venom says your symbiote has been changed. Experimented on. Be careful."
"I don't care. Get him out." Eddie's hands were on the chamber now, searching for the release. "Harry, help me!"
Harry accessed the controls. "Warning: Manual release will trigger automatic security protocols. They'll know we're here."
"Do it."
"Eddie—" Norman started.
"DO IT!"
Harry pressed the release. The cryo chamber hissed open, frost billowing out. The security alarm immediately began blaring.
"Facility team, you've been made!" Ned's panicked voice through comms. "Security forces converging on your position!"
But Eddie didn't care. Because the symbiote was moving, unfreezing, reaching toward him with desperate hunger.
Eddie opened his arms. "Come on. Come back to me. Come home."
The symbiote surged forward—and Eddie screamed.
Not with joy. With agony.
The bonding was wrong. Violent. Painful in ways it hadn't been the first time. The symbiote wasn't gently merging—it was attacking, invading, trying to take complete control.
NO! THEY DAMAGED IT! BROKE ITS MIND! IT DOESN'T RECOGNIZE HIM AS HOST—IT SEES HIM AS PREY!
Eddie fell to his knees, the symbiote covering his body in chaotic patterns—black and white, yes, but also red. Corrupted. Like the Carnage units.
"Eddie, fight it!" Norman grabbed him, Anti-Venom trying to stabilize the bonding. "Don't let it take control!"
But Eddie was losing. Six months of separation, six months of longing—he'd opened himself completely, left no defenses. And the damaged symbiote was taking advantage, drowning him in rage and hunger and pain.
Harry's voice was sharp: "Dad, we've got incoming! Enhanced units!"
The research wing doors exploded inward.
Five figures in tactical gear stormed in—but they weren't human anymore. Their movements were too fast, too fluid. Symbiote hosts. Alchemax's enhanced soldiers.
"SHIELD was right," Harry said, his Hobgoblin symbiote forming armor. "They were expecting us."
Norman's Anti-Venom surged forward, meeting the first attacker. White against red, healer against killer. They collided with enough force to crack the concrete floor.
Harry engaged two more, his enhanced tactical awareness letting him predict their moves, dodge their strikes. But he was new, inexperienced. They were trained killers.
And Eddie—Eddie was on his knees, fighting a war inside his own body, unable to help.
"Peter!" Norman shouted into comms. "We need backup! Eddie's compromised! We're outnumbered!"
[2020 HOURS - ALCHEMAX GALA]
Peter heard Norman's call and felt his blood run cold.
"We have to go," he said immediately to Gwen.
"We're in the middle of the gala—"
"I don't care. The team needs us."
But before they could move, Tyler Stone's voice boomed through the ballroom's sound system.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please."
The crowd quieted. Peter felt his spider-sense screaming warnings.
"Thank you all for coming tonight. What you're about to witness will change the world forever." Stone smiled, and it was predatory. "Alchemax is proud to announce Phase Two of our enhanced human initiative. A demonstration of what humanity can become."
The lights dimmed. On screens around the ballroom, footage appeared—the facility upstate. The fight happening right now. Norman battling enhanced soldiers. Eddie struggling with his corrupted symbiote. Harry fighting desperately.
"As you can see," Stone continued, "traditional resistance to enhancement is futile. The future belongs to those who embrace evolution. To those who—"
He was cut off by a scream.
Then another. Then chaos.
Because dropping from the ceiling, sliding from ventilation ducts, emerging from service entrances—were more symbiote hosts. Dozens of them. All wearing that distinctive red and black pattern.
Carnage units.
They'd been hidden here all along. Waiting.
"Peter!" Gwen grabbed his arm as the first Carnage lunged at a fleeing socialite.
Peter's symbiote exploded outward, the tuxedo shredding as his black suit formed. He webbed the Carnage, yanking it away from the civilian.
"EVERYBODY OUT!" Peter shouted. "NOW!"
Panic erupted. Hundreds of people running for exits. The Carnage units weren't discriminating—they were attacking everyone. Civilians. Guards. It was a massacre in the making.
Gwen's white and silver symbiote manifested, her dress dissolving into her suit. Electricity crackled across her hands as she blasted a Carnage that was cornering a group of terrified guests.
"Peter, there are too many!" Gwen shouted over the chaos.
She was right. At least twenty Carnage units, and they were multiplying—pulling people down, infecting them with symbiote material, creating more enhanced soldiers right there in the ballroom.
"Ned!" Peter webbed two Carnage units together. "We need backup! Any backup!"
"SHIELD is twenty minutes out!" Ned's voice was frantic. "You need to hold until—"
The building shook. An explosion. Then another.
"They're bringing down the building!" Norman's voice through comms. "Peter, they're going to collapse Alchemax Tower with everyone inside!"
Peter looked at Gwen. Through their bond, they had the same realization.
This was the choice Strickland had promised. Save the many at the gala, or save the few at the facility.
They couldn't do both.
"Norman," Peter said, his voice steady despite the chaos, "get Eddie under control. Rescue who you can. We'll handle the gala."
"Peter, there are hundreds of people there—"
"I know. We'll save them. We'll save all of them." Peter looked at Gwen. "Right?"
"Together," Gwen agreed, electricity building around her like a storm.
PETER. THIS IS BEYOND EVEN OUR CAPABILITIES. WE CANNOT SAVE EVERYONE.
Watch me.
The building shook again. Structural supports were failing. They had minutes—maybe less—before the whole tower came down.
Peter shot webbing upward, creating a network of support lines, trying to hold the building together through sheer force. Gwen was herding civilians toward exits, her electricity stunning Carnage units that tried to interfere.
But it wasn't enough. There were too many enemies. Too many civilians. Too much destruction.
Then the windows exploded inward.
A red and gold blur shot into the ballroom, repulsor beams blasting Carnage units away from civilians.
Iron Man.
"Heard you kids could use a hand," Tony Stark's voice came through external speakers. "JARVIS, target hostile symbiotes. Civilians are priority."
"Yes sir," an AI responded.
Behind Iron Man came others. A woman with red hair and deadly grace—Black Widow. A man with a bow—Hawkeye. A massive green figure that could only be the Hulk.
The Avengers had arrived.
"Better late than never," Peter said, hope surging.
"We were monitoring SHIELD channels," Tony said, landing beside Peter. "Heard you were in over your head. Again. You really need to stop making this a habit, kid."
"I'll work on that. Can you stabilize the building?"
"Already on it. JARVIS is calculating support points. But we need to clear the Carnage units first—their biomass is interfering with structural integrity."
Together, they fought. Peter and the Avengers, a strange coalition of teenage heroes and seasoned warriors, battling to save everyone they could.
Gwen worked with Black Widow, the two of them moving in perfect sync—Gwen stunning enemies with electricity while Widow finished them with brutal efficiency.
Hawkeye provided cover fire from above, his arrows—some explosive, some stunning, some just really pointy—taking down Carnage units attempting to flank.
And the Hulk—the Hulk was just smashing everything that wasn't human, roaring challenges at the enhanced soldiers foolish enough to engage him.
But even with reinforcements, they were losing ground. More civilians were being pulled down. The building was failing faster than Tony could reinforce it. The Carnage units seemed endless.
Peter felt desperation clawing at him. They couldn't save everyone. Some would die tonight. The math was inevitable.
Unless—
PETER. NO. WHAT YOU ARE THINKING IS DANGEROUS.
What am I thinking?
YOU ARE THINKING OF USING OUR FULL POWER. RELEASING ALL RESTRAINTS. BECOMING THE MONSTER.
To save them. To save everyone.
YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO RETURN. YOU MAY LOSE YOURSELF.
Then you'll bring me back. Right?
...YES. ALWAYS.
Peter closed his eyes, reaching deep. Felt the five symbiotes he'd absorbed—Venom's children, still within him. Felt their power, vast and terrible. Felt the potential for something more.
"Gwen," Peter said through their bond. "I need you to trust me."
Through the connection, she felt what he was about to do. "Peter, no—"
"I have to. It's the only way."
Peter let go.
The transformation was instant. The symbiote exploded outward, adding mass, adding size. Peter grew—eight feet, ten feet, twelve feet tall. Muscles like corded steel. Multiple tendrils instead of just two arms. Eyes glowing white with power. A massive spider emblem across his chest, larger than before, more terrible.
He looked like a monster.
He felt like a god.
FULL POWER. ALL LIMITERS REMOVED. YOU ARE NOW APEX PREDATOR, PETER PARKER.
"EVERYONE GET BACK!" Peter's voice was layered, inhuman, terrifying.
The Avengers scattered. Even Hulk looked uncertain.
Peter moved.
Faster than thought. Stronger than steel. He was everywhere at once—webbing civilians, pulling them to safety. Grabbing Carnage units, crushing them, absorbing them into his mass. Growing larger. Stronger. More.
The building began its final collapse.
Peter shot webbing in every direction—not thin strands, but massive cables of symbiote material. They anchored to every load-bearing point, to the ground itself, to adjacent buildings. A web that could hold the sky.
And Peter held it. Held the entire weight of a forty-story building on his back like Atlas with the world.
"GO!" he roared. "EVERYONE OUT! NOW!"
The civilians ran. The Avengers helped them, carrying the injured, guiding the panicked. Gwen stayed close to Peter, her electricity helping reinforce his webbing, adding her strength to his.
Through their bond, Peter felt her fear—not of the Carnage units or the collapsing building, but of him. Of what he'd become. Of whether he could come back from this.
YOU ARE LOSING YOURSELF. THE POWER IS CONSUMING YOUR HUMANITY.
Just a little longer. Just until everyone's safe.
One minute. Two. Five.
Finally—FINALLY—the last civilian was clear. The last Avenger exited. Only Peter and Gwen remained, holding up a building that should have fallen minutes ago.
"Peter," Gwen said gently. "Let it go. Let it fall. Come back to me."
SHE IS RIGHT. WE MUST RELEASE THE POWER BEFORE IT RELEASES YOU.
Peter wanted to. Wanted to collapse, to return to normal, to be just Peter Parker again.
But the power was singing in his veins. Intoxicating. Beautiful. Terrible.
Why go back? Why be weak when he could be strong? Why be human when he could be a god?
"Peter." Gwen's hand on his massive arm, electricity flowing through the touch—not to hurt, but to connect. "I know it's tempting. I feel it too sometimes. The power. The potential. But that's not who we are. That's not who YOU are."
Through their bond, Peter felt her love. Her faith. Her certainty that he was more than power, more than strength, more than symbiote.
He was Peter Parker.
And Peter Parker didn't choose power over humanity.
"Get clear," Peter managed, his voice almost normal again. "I'm letting go."
Gwen ran. Peter released his web. The building fell.
And Peter fell with it, letting the symbiote recede, returning to normal size as tons of steel and concrete collapsed around him.
He should have died.
Instead, he felt arms catch him—Iron Man, thrusters at maximum, pulling him clear of the debris cloud. They shot upward, breaking through the destruction, rising into the clear night air.
"That," Tony Stark said, "was either the bravest or stupidest thing I've ever seen. Possibly both."
"Did everyone make it?" Peter gasped.
"Everyone. Zero casualties. You saved them all, kid." Tony landed them on a nearby rooftop. "But you scared the hell out of everyone doing it. That thing you became—"
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Be careful. Power like that—it can consume you." Tony's faceplate retracted, showing a surprisingly serious expression. "Trust me. I know."
Gwen landed beside them, having used her bio-electric wings to fly up. She immediately grabbed Peter, holding him tight.
"Don't ever do that again," she whispered fiercely. "I felt you slipping away. Felt you becoming something else. Don't leave me like that."
"I'm sorry. But everyone's alive. That's what matters."
"You matter too, idiot."
SHE IS CORRECT. YOU MATTER. TO HER. TO ME. TO THE WEB. DO NOT FORGET THAT.
Peter held Gwen close, feeling his humanity settling back into place. The power was gone now—or at least suppressed. He was just Peter Parker again. Enhanced, yes. But still fundamentally himself.
Through his comm, Eddie's voice crackled: "Peter? You there?"
"I'm here. Status?"
"We got him. My symbiote. He's back." Eddie's voice was thick with emotion. "We're bonded again. Properly this time. Norman helped stabilize the connection. We're... we're whole."
"The facility?"
"Destroyed. We set charges before we left. All of Strickland's research—gone. We freed every symbiote we could find. Some bonded with us voluntarily. Others we kept in portable containment. We're bringing them home."
"Strickland?"
"Escaped. Had an emergency exit we didn't know about. But we got his computers, his files, everything. MJ is already analyzing them."
Relief flooded through Peter. They'd done it. Both teams had succeeded.
"Casualties?" Peter asked, dreading the answer.
"Harry took a hit. He'll be fine—Hobgoblin is healing him. But it was close. Dad saved his life." A pause. "We're a team now. A real team. We fought together. Bled together. And we won."
"Yeah," Peter said, looking out over Manhattan. Emergency vehicles were swarming the collapsed Alchemax tower. News helicopters circled. The world would know about tonight. About The Web. About everything.
"We won."
But even as he said it, Peter knew the truth.
This wasn't the end.
It was just the beginning.
TO BE CONTINUED...