[MONDAY, 0700 HOURS - MIDTOWN HIGH SCHOOL]
Peter stood outside the school entrance, staring at the building like it was a war zone.
Which, technically, it was. Just a different kind of war.
"You're overthinking this," Gwen said beside him, adjusting her backpack. She looked impossibly normal in jeans and a sweater, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Like a regular teenage girl, not someone who could shoot lightning from her fingertips.
"I'm absolutely overthinking this," Peter agreed. "Three days ago, I was anonymous. Now I'm—" he gestured vaguely at the school, where students were definitely staring, definitely pointing, definitely whispering.
"Famous," MJ supplied helpfully, appearing from behind them with Ned in tow. "Viral. A meme. Last I checked, #SpiderGod was trending on three continents."
"Please stop calling me Spider-God."
"Never. It's too perfect." MJ grinned wickedly. "Also, the fanfiction writers have decided you and I have 'undeniable chemistry.' They're shipping us. Hard."
Gwen's expression darkened, electricity sparking faintly across her fingers. "They're what?"
"Relax, Stacy. I told them Peter's taken and that you could kill them with your mind." MJ patted Gwen's shoulder. "Also that I have standards and they don't include disaster-prone science nerds, no offense Peter."
"None taken?"
YOUR FRIENDS ARE CHAOTIC. I APPROVE.
Ned was practically vibrating with excitement. "Dude, you're all anyone can talk about! There's a betting pool on whether you're secretly Oscorp experiments, government agents, or actual aliens. Flash Thompson is claiming he always knew you were special—"
"Flash? The guy who's been shoving me into lockers since freshman year?"
"That Flash. He's telling everyone you two are 'basically brothers' and that he 'totally helped train you.'" Ned's grin was enormous. "It's hilarious watching him try to ride your coattails."
I DISLIKE THIS FLASH HUMAN. SHALL I CONSUME HIM?
No consuming classmates.
UNFORTUNATE.
"Deep breath," Gwen said, taking Peter's hand. "We go in together. We act normal. We don't confirm or deny anything. We're just students."
"Students who held up a building."
"Allegedly held up a building," MJ corrected. "Innocent until proven guilty. Besides, you were wearing a mask. Could've been anyone."
"The mask is made of symbiote. It's literally part of me."
"Details." MJ linked arms with Peter on one side, Ned on the other, forming a protective barrier. "Now come on. Face the masses. Try not to have an anxiety attack."
They walked through the entrance, and immediately the noise hit them.
"—that's him! That's Spider-Man!"
"—no way, he's too skinny—"
"—I heard he can lift cars—"
"—my cousin saw him fight those red monsters—"
"—is it true he's dating Gwen Stacy?"
"—I heard he's dating MJ Jones—"
"—probably dating both, you seen him? Boy's got game—"
Gwen's electricity crackled louder. "I'm going to kill someone."
"Deep breaths," Peter murmured. "Remember what Norman said. Ignore the attention. Stay calm."
"Norman isn't being shipped with random people by strangers on the internet."
"Actually," Ned said, checking his phone, "there's a whole subset of fans who ship Norman with—"
"DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE," Norman's voice crackled through their earpieces. They'd all kept the SHIELD communicators, just in case. "I am monitoring social media and I am deeply disturbed by what humanity considers entertainment."
Eddie's laugh came through the comms. "Welcome to fame, old man. It's horrifying. You get used to it. Mostly."
"How are you so calm about this?" Peter asked.
"Because I've been infamous before. Trust me, being famous for heroism is better than being famous for a fabricated story that destroyed your career." Eddie's tone was lighter now, the old bitterness faded. "Just roll with it. Lean into the absurdity. It's the only way to stay sane."
They made it to homeroom, where their teacher—Ms. Warren—looked at them with a mixture of pride and concern.
"Mr. Parker, Ms. Stacy, Ms. Jones, Mr. Leeds. I'm glad you're back from your... science retreat." Her tone suggested she knew exactly where they'd really been. "I trust it was educational?"
"Very educational," Peter said carefully. "We learned a lot about practical applications of... theoretical physics."
"I'm sure you did." Ms. Warren's expression softened. "If any of you need accommodations—time off, counseling, anything—my door is always open. What you experienced during the Alchemax incident..." She trailed off meaningfully.
"Thank you, Ms. Warren," Gwen said. "We're okay. Really."
The morning passed in a surreal haze. Teachers who'd barely noticed Peter before now looked at him differently. Students who'd never spoken to him suddenly wanted to be his best friend. Flash Thompson cornered him between classes.
"Parker!" Flash threw an arm around Peter's shoulders with aggressive friendliness. "My man! How's it going?"
"Uh. Fine?" Peter tried to extract himself. "Flash, what are you—"
"Listen, I know we've had our differences, but I've always respected you, you know?" Flash's smile was bright and completely fake. "And now that you're, you know, famous and all, I thought maybe you could introduce me to some of your new friends. Like maybe Iron Man? Or Captain America?"
THIS HUMAN IS INSUFFERABLE. PERMISSION TO TERRIFY HIM?
Granted.
Peter let his eyes flash black for just a second—Venom's presence showing through. Flash stumbled backward, his face going pale.
"Flash," Peter said quietly, "we're not friends. We've never been friends. And using someone for connections isn't friendship—it's opportunism. Maybe work on being a decent person first?"
He walked away, leaving Flash gaping.
Through the comms, Eddie's voice was approving. "Nice. Boundaries are important. Also, did you just threaten him with your symbiote?"
"Implied threat. There's a difference."
"Semantics. I like it."
Lunch was chaos. Peter, Gwen, MJ, and Ned claimed their usual table in the back corner, only to find it suddenly very popular. Students kept approaching, asking questions, requesting autographs, taking selfies.
"This is a nightmare," Peter muttered into his sandwich.
"This is fame," MJ corrected, typing rapidly on her laptop. "Also, my exclusive interview with Spider-Man just hit two million views. I'm basically a celebrity journalist now."
"You interviewed him while he was unconscious!"
"Investigative journalism is about seizing opportunities." MJ's grin was unrepentant. "Besides, you said very sweet things about Gwen. The internet is eating it up."
Gwen was doing her best to ignore the attention, but Peter could feel her irritation through their bond. "Can we please talk about something normal? Like homework? Or the weather? Anything?"
"The weather is partly cloudy with a chance of symbiotes," Ned supplied helpfully. "Speaking of which, Tony Stark's tech guys contacted me. They want to collaborate on web-shooter designs."
"Tony Stark's people want to work with you?" Peter asked.
"Apparently, my modifications to the SHIELD communication system impressed them. They offered me an internship. Starting next summer. At Stark Industries." Ned looked like he might explode with joy. "I'M GOING TO WORK FOR TONY STARK."
"That's amazing, Ned!" Gwen hugged him. "You deserve it!"
YOUR FRIEND HAS EARNED RECOGNITION. THIS IS GOOD.
"Congratulations, man," Peter said, genuinely happy. "You're going to be brilliant there."
"Thanks! Also, they want to meet you. Officially. Tony's throwing some kind of party next month and we're all invited. The whole Web."
"A party with the Avengers?" Peter's stomach did complicated things. "That's terrifying."
"That's networking," MJ corrected. "We're playing in the big leagues now. Might as well meet the team."
The afternoon brought chemistry class with Mr. Cobbwell, who immediately assigned a group project. Peter ended up partnered with Gwen (intentionally) and Flash (unfortunately).
"So," Flash said, trying too hard to sound casual, "you guys really fought those monster things, huh?"
"We don't discuss ongoing investigations," Gwen said primly, measuring chemicals.
"Right, right. Top secret. I get it." Flash leaned closer. "But between us, that was you, right? In the white suit with the lightning?"
Gwen's hands sparked. The beaker she was holding began to glow. "Flash, if you want to pass this class, I suggest you focus on the assignment and stop asking questions that could get people hurt."
The threat was clear. Flash wisely shut up.
I LIKE YOUR MATE. SHE IS FIERCE.
I like her too.
GOOD. MATE WITH HER AGAIN SOON. THE BONDING STRENGTHENS WITH REPEATED—
NOT NOW, VENOM.
After school, Peter expected to go home. Instead, Norman's voice crackled through the comms.
"Team meeting. Safe house. One hour. We have a situation."
[1700 HOURS - OSBORN SAFE HOUSE, BROOKLYN]
The team gathered in the briefing room. Norman looked grim. Eddie was pacing. Harry sat at the monitors, his Hobgoblin symbiote rippling with agitation.
"What's wrong?" Peter asked.
Norman pulled up footage on the main screen. "This was recorded three hours ago. Philadelphia. Watch."
The video showed a city street. Civilians going about their day. Then—
A Carnage symbiote appeared. Not one of the ones from the gala. A new one. It attacked a bank, tearing through security, infecting guards, creating chaos.
"SHIELD responded within fifteen minutes," Norman continued. "But by then, the Carnage unit had escaped. With five newly infected hosts."
"Strickland," Eddie growled. "He's rebuilding. Creating new Carnage units."
"That's our assessment. He escaped with enough research and symbiote material to restart his program. Smaller scale, but still dangerous." Norman pulled up more footage. "There have been three attacks in the past twenty-four hours. Philadelphia. Baltimore. Washington D.C. He's moving down the East Coast."
"Heading where?" Gwen asked.
"Unknown. But the pattern suggests he's looking for something. Or someone." Harry pulled up a map, showing the attack sites. "Whatever it is, he's getting closer to New York."
"Then we stop him," Peter said simply. "We find him before he reaches the city. We end this."
"Agreed. But there's a complication." Norman hesitated. "SHIELD wants to handle this themselves. They've ordered us to stand down. To let them deal with Strickland."
"Screw that," Eddie said immediately. "This is personal. Strickland tortured my symbiote. Tortured dozens of symbiotes. He deserves—"
"Justice, not vengeance," Norman interrupted. "I agree we need to stop him. But we do it smart. Not angry."
Through the comms, Tony Stark's voice suddenly appeared. "This is getting to be a habit, calling in for your meetings. You guys need better security. Anyway, I've been monitoring the Carnage situation. SHIELD's right to be concerned. These things are dangerous. But they're also right that you kids shouldn't be handling this alone."
"With respect, Mr. Stark," Peter said, "we've handled Carnage units before."
"And nearly died doing it. I was there, remember? I watched you turn into something terrifying to hold up a building." Tony's tone was serious. "Look, you're brave. You're talented. But you're also fifteen. Let the adults handle the serial killer with an army of alien monsters."
"The adults let Strickland escape in the first place," MJ pointed out. "No offense."
"Some taken, but fair. SHIELD screwed up. But that doesn't mean you should put yourselves at risk again." There was a pause. "However, if you were to, say, provide intelligence and support from a safe distance, while SHIELD handled the direct confrontation, that would be acceptable. Hypothetically."
Peter understood. Tony was giving them permission to help, but only in a support role.
"We can do support," Peter said. "Intelligence gathering. Tracking. Logistics."
"But if civilians are in danger," Gwen added, "we intervene. We're not going to stand by and watch people die."
"Fair enough. Just try not to die yourselves. Pepper likes you kids, and I hate disappointing Pepper." Tony's tone lightened. "Also, I'm sending over upgraded equipment. Better web-shooters for all the spider-themed people, improved comms, some toys that'll help with Carnage units specifically. JARVIS will coordinate with Ned."
"Thanks, Mr. Stark," Peter said sincerely.
"Don't thank me. Just don't die. The paperwork for teenage hero deaths is apparently nightmarish." The connection cut off.
Norman pulled up more data. "MJ's been tracking Strickland's movements. She's found a pattern."
MJ took over, her laptop displaying overlays on the map. "Each attack site is near a defunct research facility. Not Alchemax facilities—these are older. 1990s era genetic research labs that shut down after funding cuts. Strickland's looting them."
"For what?" Harry asked.
"Equipment. Data. Possibly more genetic samples." MJ zoomed in on the next logical target. "Based on the pattern, his next hit will be here. Camden, New Jersey. Old GeneTech facility. Abandoned fifteen years ago but the infrastructure is still intact."
"Then that's where we go," Norman said. "But carefully. Ned, can you coordinate with SHIELD? Feed them our intelligence while we maintain operational independence?"
"Already on it," Ned said, fingers flying across keyboards. "I've established a secure channel with Agent Hill. She's not happy we're involved, but she's accepting our data."
"Good. Peter, Gwen—you're our advance scouts. Fast, mobile, able to escape if needed. Eddie and I will provide backup. Harry coordinates from overwatch. MJ stays here with Ned, manages information flow."
"When do we leave?" Peter asked.
"Tonight. 2100 hours. This ends now."
[1800 HOURS - PETER'S ROOM]
Peter was checking his gear when Gwen appeared at his door, looking uncertain.
"Hey," she said. "Can we talk?"
"Always." Peter set down the web-shooters Tony had sent—sleeker, more advanced, probably cost more than a car.
Gwen closed the door, sat on his bed. "I'm scared."
"Me too."
"No, I mean really scared. Last time, we fought Carnage units in a controlled environment. We had backup. We had options." She looked at her hands. "This time, we're hunting them. In their territory. And Strickland knows we're coming. He's planned for this."
Peter sat beside her, taking her hand. "You don't have to come. You could stay here. Safe."
"Not a chance." Gwen's expression was fierce. "Where you go, I go. That's the deal. I'm just... I'm admitting I'm terrified."
"That's called being smart, not weak."
"I know. Doesn't make it easier." She leaned against him. "Promise me something?"
"Anything."
"If things go wrong. If one of us doesn't make it out—"
"Gwen—"
"Let me finish." She turned to face him. "If something happens to me, don't let it break you. Don't become something dark and vengeful. Stay the Peter Parker I fell in love with. Stay the hero."
"Nothing's going to happen to you. I won't let it."
"You can't promise that. None of us can." Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "But I need to know you'll survive. You'll keep going. You'll stay good."
SHE PREPARES FOR DEATH. THIS IS WISE BUT PAINFUL.
She's not going to die. I won't allow it.
YOU CANNOT CONTROL EVERYTHING, PETER. SOMETIMES, DESPITE OUR POWER, WE FAIL.
Peter pulled Gwen close. "You're not dying tonight. Or any night. Because I'll protect you. And you'll protect me. And our symbiotes will protect both of us. We're going to survive this, live long lives, and tell our grandchildren about the time we fought alien monsters in New Jersey."
Gwen laughed wetly. "Grandchildren?"
"Future grandchildren. Very hypothetical grandchildren. Decades from now grandchildren."
"I like hypothetical future grandchildren." Gwen kissed him softly. "Okay. We survive. Together."
"Together."
They stayed like that for a while, drawing strength from each other, their symbiotes humming contentedly in the background.
THIS IS GOOD. MATES SHOULD COMFORT EACH OTHER BEFORE BATTLE.
For once, we agree completely.
A knock at the door. Eddie's voice: "Peter? We're rolling out in twenty. You ready?"
"Ready," Peter called back.
He and Gwen stood, checking each other's equipment. Suits on. Web-shooters loaded. Comms active. They looked at each other—two teenagers about to fight monsters.
"You look terrified," Gwen observed.
"You look terrifying," Peter countered.
"Good. That's the goal." Gwen's white symbiote rippled across her skin briefly, electricity sparking. "Let's go save the world. Again."
They descended to find the team assembled. Eddie in his black and white Venom suit, practically vibrating with barely contained energy. Norman in his pure white Anti-Venom armor, calm and centered. Harry in his green and black Hobgoblin tactical gear, analyzing data on multiple screens.
"Intelligence update," Harry said. "SHIELD has confirmed Strickland's convoy is approaching Camden. Three vehicles. Estimated twelve personnel, including at least four Carnage hosts."
"And Strickland himself?" Eddie asked.
"Unknown. He could be there. He could be directing remotely. Either way, this is our best chance to intercept his operation."
Norman pulled up the tactical plan one more time. "Peter and Gwen go in first. Fast reconnaissance. Identify threats. Report back. Do not engage unless necessary. Eddie and I follow five minutes behind. If things go sideways, we extract and regroup. No heroics. No last stands. We survive, we adapt, we try again tomorrow."
"What about SHIELD?" Peter asked.
"They're sending a team. But they're forty minutes out. We're the only ones close enough to intervene if Strickland starts attacking civilians." Norman's expression was grim. "This is a rescue operation first, combat operation second. Priority one is protecting innocents. Priority two is stopping Strickland. Priority three is our own survival."
"Shouldn't our survival be higher priority?" MJ asked.
"No," Norman said simply. "Because we're heroes. And heroes put others first. But we're also smart. And smart heroes live to fight another day. Don't take unnecessary risks. Am I clear?"
"Crystal," Peter said.
They loaded into Norman's SUV—armored, fast, expensive. The drive to Camden took forty-five minutes, tension building with every mile.
Peter held Gwen's hand the entire way, their symbiotes maintaining constant connection. Through their bond, he felt her fear mixing with his own, but also her determination, her love, her absolute certainty that they'd survive this together.
WE GO TO WAR AGAIN. BUT THIS TIME, WE ARE STRONGER. MORE PREPARED. MORE UNIFIED.
We also have more to lose.
THEN WE FIGHT HARDER. WE PROTECT WHAT MATTERS.
Camden was a ghost town after dark—abandoned factories, empty streets, the decay of industrial decline. The GeneTech facility was on the outskirts, a squat concrete building surrounded by rusted fencing.
"Visual on target," Harry's voice came through comms from his overwatch position a mile away. "Three vehicles in the parking lot. Thermal imaging shows... seventeen heat signatures inside the building. More than expected."
"Carnage reproduces," Eddie said grimly. "They're infecting new hosts."
"Then we stop them before they spread further," Norman said. "Peter, Gwen—you're up."
Peter and Gwen exited the SUV a quarter-mile from the facility. They approached on foot, using darkness and Peter's webs to move silently.
SEVENTEEN ENEMIES. DANGEROUS NUMBERS.
We're not fighting. Just watching.
FOR NOW.
They reached the facility perimeter. Peter's spider-sense was screaming—danger ahead, lots of it. He could hear voices inside, movement, something that sounded like screaming.
"We need to get closer," Gwen whispered.
They scaled the building, finding a skylight. Through the grimy glass, they could see inside.
The old laboratory had been repurposed. Equipment everywhere. Computers. Containment units. And in the center—
Dr. Aaron Strickland.
The man was exactly as his photos suggested—cold, calculating, completely devoid of empathy. He stood before a row of prisoners—civilians, bound and gagged, terrified.
"Subject seventeen," Strickland said clinically. "Male, age thirty-two, generally healthy. Good candidate for bonding."
A Carnage symbiote flowed toward one of the prisoners. The man's screams were muffled by his gag as the symbiote infected him, transforming him into another red-and-black monster.
"That's seventeen new hosts," Peter breathed. "He's building an army."
"We need to call this in," Gwen said. "SHIELD needs to—"
The skylight exploded beneath them.
A Carnage unit had been on the roof, waiting. It grabbed Peter, slamming him down into the laboratory below. Glass shattered, alarms blared, and suddenly Peter was surrounded by seventeen Carnage hosts, all turning toward him with predatory hunger.
"GWEN, RUN!" Peter shouted.
But Gwen didn't run. She dropped through the skylight, electricity blazing, landing beside Peter in a crouch.
"Together," she said firmly. "Always together."
FOOLISH. BRAVE. PERFECT.
Dr. Strickland smiled. "Peter Parker. Gwen Stacy. How convenient. I was hoping you'd come."
This was a trap.
This had always been a trap.
And they'd walked right into it.
TO BE CONTINUED...