Peter Parker had never felt anything like this. The exhaustion that usually burned in his calves and shoulders after a prolonged fight was entirely gone.
When he fired a web-line and launched himself off a skyscraper, the sheer kinetic force of his swing propelled him nearly a kilometer into the gray Manhattan sky. The symbiote rippled along his arms, forming aerodynamic gliders under his armpits. With a single, massive arc, he practically cleared the entire east-to-west span of the island.
The symbiote didn't possess the wild, complex shape-shifting transformations of some cosmic entity, but its raw, brutal efficiency was staggering.
You are very strong, the heavy, echoing voice resonated directly in Peter's mind.
Hydra's previous test subjects had failed because their baseline physiology couldn't handle the organism's parasitic strain. But Peter's superhuman strength—already benchmarked as exceeding Captain America's —provided a perfect, boundless reservoir of power. Bonded to him, the symbiote was no longer a weak runt. Amplified by Peter's mutated genetics, the two of them combined were an apex predator.
"Thanks, buddy," Peter muttered, landing silently on the slick glass facade of a Midtown high-rise. "I didn't expect you to be such a heavy lifter. Keeping that entire lab from collapsing and saving everyone? Not bad for your first day."
Peter looked down at his sleek, pitch-black armor. In the distance, the wail of police sirens drifted up from Harlem. Smoke plumed over the rooftops. The Defenders were still tangling with Viper Security.
That looks like a great opportunity to test drive this suit, Peter thought. He fired a black web and launched himself toward the smoke.
In Harlem, Viper Security wasn't deploying their snake-mutant freaks; they were operating under the guise of a standard, heavily armed mercenary outfit to avoid drawing the wrong kind of attention. Assault rifles rattled against the pavement. Armored transports blocked the intersections.
Daredevil flipped through the air, his billy club snapping out to shatter a mercenary's jaw. He landed, twisted, and snapped a combatant's arm at the elbow with a sickening crunch before violently popping the joint back into place.
"Don't kill anyone, Frank!" Matt roared over the gunfire.
A few yards away, Frank Castle fired a suppressed burst into a guard's kneecaps, dropping him instantly. Without breaking stride, Frank drove a combat knife cleanly into another charging mercenary's vocal cords.
"Don't worry, Red," Frank grunted, yanking the bloodied blade free. "He just fainted."
Luke Cage waded through a hail of automatic gunfire. The bullets flattened against his unbreakable skin and pinged onto the asphalt. He grabbed the front bumper of a wheeled armored vehicle, dug his boots into the street, and flipped the entire multi-ton truck onto its roof.
Above him, Iron Fist vaulted off a brick wall, his fist glowing with blinding, chi-focused energy. He launched himself at a low-flying attack helicopter, driving his glowing fist straight through the metal chassis. Danny ripped the pilot from the cockpit mid-air and dropped gracefully to the pavement.
Jessica Jones caught the tail of the falling chopper. Her boots ground into the concrete as she dragged the multi-ton hunk of metal down, setting it hard on the street. The remaining Viper soldiers, realizing they were fighting a losing battle against indestructible people, broke formation and scattered in a panic.
"We've been at this for an hour," Luke groaned. He grabbed a soldier by his tactical vest, effortlessly tore the bulletproof Kevlar in half, and tossed the man into a dumpster. "How much longer are we doing this?"
"Didn't you hear that?" Daredevil asked, his head tilting toward the sky.
Jessica punched a mercenary through a wooden fence, dusting her hands off. "Hear what?"
"The sound of a web pulling taut."
A black blur dropped from the sky. Spider-Man slammed into the asphalt, cracking the pavement in a flawless, three-point landing. A thick cloud of dust billowed outward. Peter remained frozen in his half-crouched pose, his massive white lenses narrowed.
The entire battlefield stopped.
Luke Cage stared at the motionless, brooding figure in black. "Who the hell can hear the sound of a web pulling taut?!"
Commander Rattlesnake, the leader of the Viper unit, pushed himself off the hood of a crushed sedan. He spat blood onto the street. "Spider-Man. We are executing a sanctioned government contract. Leave the premises immediately."
Peter didn't stand up. He kept his knuckles pressed to the asphalt. "Yeah, about that. Your little underwater country club is permanently closed. We've got survivors and plenty of physical evidence."
The black symbiote suddenly surged off Peter's arms.
"And you guys are closed, too," Peter added.
A tsunami of black, liquid tendrils erupted from the ground beneath Peter's boots. It spread like a shockwave, instantly coating the asphalt, the brick walls, and the abandoned cars for hundreds of meters in every direction. The living shadow snapped upward. Thick, muscular tentacles grabbed every single remaining Viper operative by their ankles, waists, and throats, violently slamming them against the surrounding brick walls.
In less than two seconds, the street looked like a scene from an alien horror movie. Dozens of mercenaries hung suspended, pinned to the architecture by writhing black slime.
Peter stood up, brushing off his hands. The symbiote snapped back, retreating instantly into the sleek confines of his suit.
Luke Cage stared at the unconscious bodies littering the walls. He looked down at his own massive hands, then over to Jessica. "I was originally gonna ask if the Avengers were still hiring."
"Welcome to the 'Unwanted Trash Alliance'," Jessica deadpanned, shaking her head.
Rattlesnake, who had been playing dead near a shattered storefront, realized exactly what Spider-Man was wearing. He knew the symbiote's critical weakness. Moving slowly, he slipped his thumb over the ultrasonic activation switch of his combat dagger.
Before he could press it, a black tendril whipped out from Peter's wrist. It plastered Rattlesnake's hand to the concrete. Peter yanked the man upward, snatching the dagger from his grip. With a casual squeeze, Peter crushed the high-tech weapon into a useless clump of scrap metal and let it drop.
Luke Cage stepped forward, grabbing Rattlesnake by the collar and hoisting him into the air. Luke grinned, recognizing the man's face. "Well, well. Hey there, old friend."
"Carl," Rattlesnake stammered, his eyes wide. "You know I always—"
Luke cut him off with a brutal headbutt. Rattlesnake's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the street.
"I'll settle the rest of that score later," Luke muttered. He turned to Peter. "Is it over?"
"Half of it," Peter said. "The base commander triggered the self-destruct the second we breached. I only had time to pull the survivors out from under the Hudson. But the lab wreckage is still down there. They can't hide it."
Daredevil stepped closer, his head tilted. "And the new outfit?"
"Oh, right! This is an alien life form they found. A symbiote. Goes by Venom. Wanna say hi?"
The black mass around Peter's neck suddenly rippled. It pulled back, forming a massive, monstrous head with rows of translucent, razor-sharp teeth hovering just over Peter's shoulder.
Hello, Venom rasped, the sound vibrating in the chests of everyone present.
Jessica took a slow step backward. "That is... not cute."
Venom ignored her, turning his massive white eyes toward Peter. Can we really not eat these people? They are clearly bad people.
"We agreed not to eat people, buddy," Peter sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose through the mask.
Then I want chocolate. Enough to bury a car.