[2147 HOURS - GENETECH FACILITY, CAMDEN]
Seventeen Carnage hosts surrounded them in a perfect circle. Peter's spider-sense wasn't just tingling—it was screaming, a cacophony of danger from every direction.
Dr. Strickland stood beyond the circle, perfectly calm, perfectly safe. "You're wondering how I knew you'd come. The answer is simple: I wanted you to."
TRAP. OBVIOUS TRAP. WE WALKED INTO OBVIOUS TRAP.
Little late for that realization!
Peter webbed two Carnage hosts together, buying himself a second. "Gwen, back to back!"
They pressed together, her electricity crackling, his webs flying. The Carnage units attacked as one—a coordinated assault that spoke of shared consciousness, hive mind tactics.
"Norman!" Peter shouted into his comm. "We're compromised! Seventeen hostiles! It's a—"
A Carnage blade sliced through his earpiece. Communication severed.
"Oh, that's not good," Gwen said, blasting electricity at three attackers simultaneously. They convulsed but didn't fall. "Peter, they're resistant! The electricity isn't working like it should!"
THEY HAVE ADAPTED. LEARNED FROM PREVIOUS ENCOUNTERS. THEY ARE EVOLVING.
Then we evolve faster!
Peter let Venom surge—not full transformation, not the monstrous form from the gala, but enhanced. His strength doubled, his speed increased. He was suddenly everywhere at once, webbing, dodging, striking.
But there were too many. For every Carnage he disabled, two more pressed in.
A blade pierced his shoulder. Pain exploded through his system, but Venom was already healing, sealing the wound. Peter spun, webbed the attacker, and threw it into three others.
Gwen wasn't holding back anymore either. Her White Widow symbiote formed full armor, electricity building until she was a walking storm. When she released it, lightning arced through the facility, striking six Carnage units simultaneously.
They fell. But slowly. Fighting through the electricity like it was merely uncomfortable instead of debilitating.
"Peter!" Gwen's voice was strained. "I'm running out of juice! The electricity—it's draining me!"
SHE OVEREXTENDS. SHE WILL EXHAUST HERSELF.
Peter webbed a path to Gwen, pulling her closer. "Conserve energy! Short bursts, not continuous!"
"Easier said than done when they keep coming!"
Strickland watched like a scientist observing an experiment. "Fascinating. The bond between you is stronger than predicted. You fight as one unit. Protecting each other even when tactical retreat would serve you better. Love makes you stronger. But it also makes you predictable."
He snapped his fingers.
Half the Carnage units stopped attacking Peter and Gwen. Instead, they turned toward the remaining prisoners—the civilians who hadn't been infected yet.
"No!" Peter's heart froze. "Don't—"
"A choice," Strickland said pleasantly. "Save yourselves by continuing to fight. Or save them and leave yourselves exposed. What will it be, heroes?"
TACTICAL MISTAKE. HE DIVIDES YOUR ATTENTION.
"Peter, the civilians—" Gwen started.
"I know." Peter's mind raced. They couldn't save everyone. The math was impossible. But they had to try. "Gwen, shield them. I'll handle—"
"You can't handle all of them alone!"
"I can try!"
NO. WE TRY TOGETHER.
Gwen's eyes met his. Through their bond, understanding passed in an instant. They'd discussed this. Practiced it in training. The ultimate combination move.
"On three?" Gwen asked.
"On three."
"One." Peter webbed three Carnage units.
"Two." Gwen built electricity until she glowed.
"Three."
Peter grabbed Gwen, spun, and threw her toward the center of the room. At the apex of her arc, she released everything—all her stored electrical energy in one massive pulse.
Lightning exploded outward. Every Carnage unit convulsed. The facility's lights blew out. Sparks rained from the ceiling.
And in that moment of chaos, Peter moved.
He was faster than thought, enhanced by Venom to his absolute limits. He grabbed civilians—six, seven, eight—webbing them together, creating a protective cocoon.
The Carnage units recovered too quickly. They were on him in seconds, blades and claws tearing.
Peter felt pain—so much pain—but he didn't let go. Didn't stop. He had to get the civilians to safety. Had to protect them.
A blade pierced his side. Another his leg. A third his back.
PETER! TOO MUCH DAMAGE! WE MUST RETREAT!
Not without them!
"PETER!" Gwen's scream was anguish and fury. She tackled the Carnage attacking him, electricity burning through its biomass. "Let him go!"
But more were coming. Always more.
They were losing.
Then the wall exploded.
Eddie Brock crashed through in full Venom form—black and white and absolutely furious. His symbiote had formed massive claws, serrated edges designed for one purpose: killing corrupted offspring.
"GET AWAY FROM THEM!" Eddie's voice was layered, monstrous, protective. He tore through Carnage units like tissue paper, his fury matched only by his precision.
Norman followed, Anti-Venom armor gleaming. Where Eddie destroyed, Norman healed—purging corruption, returning damaged symbiotes to baseline.
"We tracked your comm signal before it cut out," Norman said, his white symbiote forming tendrils that grabbed civilians, pulling them to safety. "You walked into a trap."
"We noticed," Peter gasped, Venom working overtime to heal his injuries.
TOO MUCH DAMAGE. HEALING SLOWLY. WE NEED TIME.
"Peter, you're hurt," Gwen said, her hands on his face, checking wounds. "Oh god, you're really hurt—"
"I'll heal. The civilians—"
"Are being evacuated by Norman. Eddie's handling the Carnage units. You did your part." Gwen's voice cracked. "You almost died doing your part."
SHE IS CORRECT. WE CAME VERY CLOSE. ANOTHER THIRTY SECONDS AND WE WOULD HAVE FAILED.
Through the chaos, Strickland was escaping. Peter saw him heading toward a back exit, carrying a briefcase.
"He's running!" Peter tried to stand, stumbled. His legs weren't cooperating.
"Let him go," Norman ordered. "Civilians first. Vengeance later."
"That's not vengeance," Eddie snarled, tearing another Carnage in half. "That's justice."
But Strickland was gone, disappeared into the night.
The remaining Carnage units suddenly stopped fighting. They didn't flee—they went still, like puppets with cut strings.
"What's happening?" Gwen asked.
Norman examined one of the frozen Carnage hosts. "Strickland was controlling them. Remote neural interface through the symbiotes. Without his signal, they're dormant."
"Can you help them?" Peter asked, finally managing to stand. "The hosts. The people he infected. Can you cure them?"
Norman's Anti-Venom flowed over one of the dormant hosts. The Carnage symbiote resisted briefly, then began to change—red fading to black, aggression fading to calm. After a moment, the symbiote retreated, revealing a confused, terrified man underneath.
"I can purge the corruption," Norman said. "Return the symbiotes to baseline. Give the hosts a choice about keeping them or separating."
"Then that's what we do." Peter looked at the seventeen infected people—victims, not villains. "We save all of them."
[2300 HOURS - GENETECH FACILITY, AFTERMATH]
SHIELD arrived twenty minutes later, led by Agent Hill and a team of specialists. They found The Web administering first aid to civilians, Norman methodically purging Carnage corruption, and seventeen former hosts in various states of shock.
"You disobeyed orders," Hill said flatly, approaching Peter. "You were supposed to provide intelligence only. Not engage."
"Civilians were being infected," Peter replied, his voice steady despite his exhaustion. "We didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice. The choice you made was to put yourselves at risk." Hill's expression softened fractionally. "But you saved seventeen people. So I'll overlook the insubordination. This time."
"Generous of you," MJ's voice came through the comms. She and Ned had maintained remote overwatch, coordinating with SHIELD and monitoring vital signs. "Especially since SHIELD was forty minutes out and these kids were here in fifteen. But sure, let's focus on rule-following instead of life-saving."
Hill's jaw tightened but she didn't respond. Instead, she turned to Norman. "Mr. Osborn. Your Anti-Venom abilities are remarkable. We'd like to discuss potential cooperation—"
"No." Norman didn't look up from his work. "I'm not becoming a SHIELD asset. My abilities are for healing, not for government exploitation."
"I wasn't suggesting—"
"Yes, you were. The answer is still no." Norman finished with another host, the purified symbiote choosing to remain bonded but peaceful. "These symbiotes deserve freedom. Autonomy. Not to be turned into weapons again."
WELL SAID. THE HEALER UNDERSTANDS.
Hill wisely changed subjects. "Strickland escaped. But we found his computers. Ned Leeds is analyzing the data now."
"What did we learn?" Gwen asked, leaning heavily against Peter. She'd depleted her energy reserves completely. Without the symbiote sustaining her, she'd have collapsed.
"Everything," Ned's voice came through, excited despite the circumstances. "We got everything. Strickland's research, his contacts, his funding sources, his future plans. This is the mother lode."
"Which means?" Eddie asked, dropping a bound Carnage host near the SHIELD agents.
"Which means we can dismantle his entire operation," MJ said. "Every facility, every contact, every backup plan. It'll take time, but we can end this. Permanently."
Peter felt relief wash through him. They'd won. Not perfectly—Strickland had escaped, people had been hurt—but they'd saved lives. They'd stopped an army. They'd recovered intelligence that could save thousands more.
"We need medical attention," Hill said, noting Peter's injuries. "All of you. Symbiote healing or not, you've suffered significant trauma."
"We heal fast," Eddie said, his Venom symbiote already finishing repairs on minor wounds.
"That's not the point. Protocol requires—" Hill stopped, seeing their expressions. "Fine. At least let my medic check you over. Compromise?"
"Compromise," Norman agreed.
As SHIELD medics began their work, Peter found a quiet corner with Gwen. They sat together, exhausted, hurting, but alive.
"You scared me tonight," Gwen said quietly. "When those Carnage units stabbed you. When I felt your pain through our bond. I thought—"
"I know. I felt your fear." Peter held her close. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize for being a hero. Just... be more careful? Please?" She looked up at him. "We're supposed to have decades together. Hypothetical grandchildren, remember?"
"I remember." Peter kissed her forehead. "Decades. Grandchildren. Growing old together. I'm in."
"Good. Because I'm not letting you die. I'll electrocute you back to life if necessary."
"That's horrifying and sweet in equal measure."
"That's our relationship in a nutshell."
YOUR MATE IS FIERCE. I APPROVE MORE EACH DAY.
Me too.
Eddie approached, looking better now that his Venom had healed his injuries. "You did good tonight, kid. Both of you. You put civilians first, even when it nearly cost you everything. That's real heroism."
"Says the guy who literally tore through a wall to save us," Peter said.
"Yeah, well. You're family. That's what family does." Eddie's expression turned thoughtful. "Strickland got away. That bothers me. Feels like unfinished business."
"It is unfinished," Norman said, joining them. "But it's not over. We have his data. We'll find him. And next time, he won't escape."
Through the comms, Tony Stark's voice suddenly appeared. "Okay, I've been listening to this entire mess through SHIELD's channel, and I have notes. So many notes."
"Mr. Stark," Peter said wearily, "now's really not the time—"
"Now is exactly the time. Note one: you kids need better tactical training. Running into obvious traps is a bad habit. Note two: that combination move you pulled—Gwen as an electrical bomb—was brilliant and stupid in equal measure. Note three: Eddie Brock tearing through a wall to save his teammates is the most beautiful thing I've seen all week. Note four—"
"Is there a point to this?" MJ interrupted.
"The point is you survived. You won. And you're getting better at this hero thing. But you're also fifteen and making fifteen-year-old decisions, which is terrifying for everyone watching." Tony paused. "So here's what's going to happen. Next week, you're all coming to Stark Tower. Proper training. Better equipment. Tactical lessons from people who've actually survived long enough to retire. No arguments."
"We weren't going to argue," Peter said.
"Good. Because I already told Pepper you were coming and she's excited. Never disappoint Pepper. Bad things happen when you disappoint Pepper." The connection cut off.
Agent Hill looked at Norman. "Stark's right. These kids need better training."
"These kids," Harry's voice came through comms, "just took down seventeen Carnage hosts and saved that many civilians. Show some respect."
Hill actually smiled. "Fair point. You all did well tonight. Recklessly. Chaotically. But well."
The cleanup took another two hours. SHIELD transported the purified hosts to medical facilities for evaluation. The civilians Peter and Gwen had saved were tearful with gratitude. Several asked for autographs, which felt surreal given Peter was covered in his own blood.
Finally—finally—they were cleared to leave. Norman drove them back to Brooklyn in silence, everyone too exhausted for conversation.
Peter dozed against Gwen's shoulder, their symbiotes maintaining gentle connection even in sleep. Through the bond, he felt her contentment despite the pain, her love despite the fear, her absolute certainty that they'd made the right choice.
WE DID WELL TONIGHT. WE PROTECTED THE INNOCENT. WE SAVED LIVES. WE FULFILLED OUR PURPOSE.
Yeah. We really did.
AND YET, YOU ARE TROUBLED.
Strickland escaped. He's still out there. Still building. This isn't over.
NO. BUT TONIGHT'S BATTLE IS WON. TOMORROW'S BATTLE IS TOMORROW'S PROBLEM. FOR NOW, REST. HEAL. CELEBRATE SURVIVAL.
You've gotten wise in your old age.
I HAVE BONDED WITH A WISE HOST. YOU INFLUENCE ME AS I INFLUENCE YOU.
Thanks, Venom.
YOU ARE WELCOME, PETER PARKER. NOW SLEEP. YOUR MATE NEEDS YOU RESTED.
[SUNDAY, 1000 HOURS - OSBORN SAFE HOUSE]
Peter woke to sunlight streaming through windows and the smell of coffee. His injuries were healed—Venom had worked through the night, repairing tissue, sealing wounds. He felt better than he had any right to feel.
Gwen was still asleep beside him, her face peaceful. At some point during the night, they'd ended up in the same bed again. It was becoming a habit. A good habit.
Peter extracted himself carefully, not wanting to wake her. He found clean clothes, showered away the remaining blood and grime, and descended to the kitchen.
The entire team was there. Eddie was cooking—apparently he made excellent pancakes. Norman was reading news reports on his tablet. Harry was video calling someone, laughing. MJ and Ned were arguing about something technical while eating bacon.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," Eddie said, sliding a plate of pancakes toward Peter. "How you feeling?"
"Sore. Hungry. Alive." Peter poured syrup liberally. "How long did I sleep?"
"Twelve hours. You and Gwen both." Norman looked up from his tablet. "The news is interesting. SHIELD released a statement about last night. They're calling it a successful joint operation. Giving The Web credit for the rescue."
"Really?" Peter was surprised. "I thought they'd want to take credit."
"Fury convinced them otherwise. Apparently, public support for The Web is astronomical. SHIELD looks good by association." Norman showed him the tablet. Headlines praised them. Social media was exploding with support.
"We're heroes," Peter said, the word feeling strange.
"We're people who helped other people," Eddie corrected. "That's all heroism really is. Showing up when needed. Doing what's right even when it's hard."
SIMPLE DEFINITION. ACCURATE.
The kitchen door opened. Gwen stumbled in, hair messy, still in sleep clothes. "Coffee. Need coffee."
MJ handed her a mug. "You look like death."
"Feel like death. Healing symbiote or not, I used up everything last night." Gwen took a long drink, sighed contentedly. "Better. What'd I miss?"
"You're heroes, we're famous, Tony Stark is making us train properly, and Eddie makes pancakes," Ned summarized. "Also, the data we stole is a gold mine. I've been up all night analyzing it."
"Please tell me you slept at some point," Peter said.
"Sleep is for people who aren't caffeinated enough." Ned pulled up his laptop. "Okay, so. Strickland's operation is bigger than we thought. He has backing from multiple corporations, three governments, and a few private collectors. His ultimate goal is to create an army of controllable enhanced humans. Not just Carnage units—those are just prototypes. He's working toward something bigger."
"Bigger how?" Norman asked.
"A symbiote that can bond with multiple hosts simultaneously. A hive mind of enhanced soldiers all controlled by one consciousness." Ned looked grim. "If he succeeds, he could create an army of thousands. All perfectly coordinated. All absolutely loyal to him."
Silence fell over the kitchen.
"That's terrifying," Gwen finally said.
"That's extinction-level," Norman corrected. "An army like that could overthrow governments. Could destroy the world as we know it."
"Then we stop him," Peter said simply. "We find him. We end this. Before he gets that far."
"Agreed. But we're going to need help. Real help. Avengers-level help." Norman looked at each of them. "This is bigger than us now. We need to reach out. Build alliances. Prepare for war."
"War," Eddie repeated quietly. "Last time I was in a war, I was a Marine. I was trained. Prepared. I knew what I was signing up for." He looked at Peter, at Gwen. "You're kids. You shouldn't have to fight wars."
"We're enhanced kids who can save lives," Peter corrected. "And that means we fight. Not because we want to. Because we have to."
"That's exactly what I was afraid you'd say." Eddie smiled sadly. "You're going to be a hell of a hero, Peter Parker. Just try not to die becoming one."
The morning passed in planning. They catalogued Strickland's known resources, potential locations, likely next moves. MJ coordinated with SHIELD, sharing information while maintaining The Web's independence. Harry designed new tactical protocols. Norman scheduled training sessions with Tony Stark.
And Peter... Peter just tried to process that his life had become this. Planning wars. Fighting monsters. Leading a team of enhanced humans against extinction-level threats.
At fifteen.
"You're overthinking again," Gwen said, appearing at his shoulder. "I can feel it through the bond. Your anxiety is leaking."
"Hard not to overthink when we're potentially facing the end of the world."
"Then don't think of it as the end of the world. Think of it as another problem to solve." Gwen took his hand. "We've solved impossible problems before. We'll solve this one too."
"How are you so calm about this?"
"I'm not. I'm terrified. But I'm also fifteen and in love with an idiot who keeps saving the world, so I have to pretend to be brave so he'll be brave." Gwen smiled. "It's exhausting."
"You're not pretending. You're the bravest person I know."
"Sweet talker." She kissed him softly. "Come on. MJ found something in the data. Something about flash."
"Flash Thompson? Our Flash? Why would Strickland have data on him?"
"That's what we need to find out."
They gathered in the briefing room. MJ pulled up a file—extensive background on Eugene "Flash" Thompson.
"Strickland was tracking potential hosts," MJ explained. "People with specific psychological profiles. Flash is on his list. High aggression, natural athleticism, strong sense of superiority masking deep insecurity. According to this, he's an ideal candidate for bonding."
"Flash is a bully," Peter said flatly.
"Flash is complicated," Gwen corrected. "I've seen him around his parents. His dad is... not good. Flash acts out because he's hurting. That doesn't excuse his behavior, but it explains it."
"So what, we recruit him?" Peter couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Flash Thompson joins The Web? The guy who's been tormenting me since freshman year?"
"The guy who's on a list of people Strickland wants to forcibly bond with corrupted symbiotes," Norman said. "Would you rather he join us voluntarily, or wait until Strickland turns him into a weapon?"
THE OLD ONE IS CORRECT. BETTER TO CONTROL THE SITUATION THAN REACT TO IT.
Peter wanted to argue. Wanted to say Flash didn't deserve this power. But...
"Fine," Peter said. "We approach him. Carefully. See if he's interested. But if he's joining, he follows our rules. No bullying. No ego. No using his powers to intimidate people."
"Agreed," Norman said. "I'll reach out. Neutral territory. We explain the situation. See if he's mature enough to handle this."
"He won't be," Peter muttered.
"Then we don't recruit him. Simple." Norman closed the file. "In other news, Tony Stark's invitation is for tomorrow. We're all expected at Stark Tower at 1400 hours. That gives us today to rest, recover, and prepare for whatever Tony has planned."
"Which will probably be humiliating," Eddie said. "Fair warning—Tony Stark loves making people prove themselves."
"Great," Peter sighed. "More tests. More proving ourselves. More chances to look like idiots."
"More chances to learn," Gwen corrected. "We're good, Peter. But we can be better. And if Tony Stark wants to teach us, we'd be fools not to listen."
She was right. Peter knew she was right. But part of him just wanted to be a normal teenager. To worry about homework and dates and whether the Yankees would win the pennant.
Instead, he was planning wars against mad scientists and meeting with billionaire superheroes.
His life was insane.
YES. BUT IT IS ALSO MAGNIFICENT. YOU HAVE POWER. PURPOSE. PEOPLE WHO LOVE YOU. MANY WOULD ENVY YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES.
Many would also call me crazy for thinking this is better than normal.
NORMAL IS OVERRATED. YOU SAID SO YOURSELF.
Did I?
YOU THOUGHT IT LOUDLY WHILE MATING WITH YOUR FEMALE.
Privacy, Venom. We've discussed this.
AND YET, YOU KEEP EXPECTING IT. OPTIMISM IS YOUR GREATEST WEAKNESS.
Peter couldn't help but smile. Even with the world ending, even with impossible odds, Venom could still make him laugh.
They had today to rest. Tomorrow to train. And beyond that...
Beyond that was war.
But for now, Peter had Gwen's hand in his, had friends and family around him, had purpose and power and hope.
That would have to be enough.
TO BE CONTINUED...