Peter froze where he stood, the shock hitting him harder than any physical blow. The "son" he and Venom had spent so long tracking down had already switched sides without hesitation, pledging itself to someone else. That realization burned, sharp and humiliating, and it ignited something ugly inside him.
He had gone toe-to-toe with Captain America and Nick Fury and come out on top, proving his strength in the most direct way possible. And now, standing here, he was being challenged—no, rejected—by a symbiote offspring that should have been beneath him. The sheer contradiction of it twisted into anger.
"Venom," Peter said through clenched teeth, his voice low and dangerous. "Let's teach this arrogant brat a lesson."
"Good," Venom replied without hesitation.
Their bond had deepened over time, becoming something far more than a simple partnership. They moved as one, thought as one, and in this moment, they shared the same instinct. Blood ties meant nothing to a symbiote. There was no loyalty, no family—only dominance.
If it refused to submit, then it would be eliminated.
A guttural roar tore from their combined form as they merged completely, the black mass wrapping tighter, reshaping into the terrifying figure of the dark Spider-Man. Muscles tensed, claws extended, and in the next instant, they lunged forward, closing the distance in a blur.
Closer.
Closer.
Peter's grin widened, madness flickering in his eyes as the killing strike approached. "Get ready to die," he snarled. "You dared to refuse me… so die! Die! Die!"
The moment should have ended in blood.
But it didn't.
A blur of red cut through the air.
Before Peter could react, Carnage moved. Its broad, blade-like arm swung with brutal precision, slamming directly into Spider-Man's face. The impact was overwhelming, far beyond what Peter had anticipated.
His enhanced reflexes barely registered the attack before it landed.
The force launched him backward, his body lifting off the ground as he was sent flying across the room. He crashed hard, the impact rattling through his bones as he hit the floor with a heavy thud.
Peter's hand shot out, slamming against the ground to stabilize himself. His head snapped forward as he coughed, and two bloodied teeth spilled from his mouth, hitting the floor with a soft, wet sound.
Carnage didn't pause.
"Trash," it said coldly, its tone stripped of any childish innocence. "All you do is talk. Worthless trash."
The words hit just as hard as the strike.
Rage exploded inside Peter, mirrored perfectly by Venom. Together, they had crushed legends, humiliated heroes, and proven their superiority time and time again. And yet here they were, being treated like nothing by something that had barely existed days ago.
For Venom, the insult ran even deeper. Being struck down by its own offspring wasn't just defeat—it was humiliation.
That anger became fuel.
Without hesitation, they surged forward again, their movements faster, more aggressive, every ounce of power thrown into the next assault.
The room erupted into chaos.
Each collision sent shockwaves through the structure, cracks spreading across the walls as the already-damaged building groaned under the strain. Blows collided with explosive force, the sound of impact echoing again and again as the fight escalated.
But this wasn't like before.
This wasn't a one-sided domination like Peter's battle with Sandman.
Carnage had changed.
Completely.
It didn't matter that the one in front of it was its "father." That concept held no meaning. There was only one thought driving it forward, one instinct that shaped every movement.
Anyone who disrespected Locke would be crushed.
With that conviction burning inside it, Carnage spread its wings wide. The massive appendages unfolded with a sharp, tearing sound, revealing rows of jagged, blood-red spikes. They sliced through the air like blades, forcing Spider-Man back, cutting off every possible path of movement.
Peter reacted instantly, his agility pushing him to the limit as he twisted and dodged, narrowly avoiding the deadly strikes. But speed alone wasn't enough.
The wings were too large.
Too fast.
Too precise.
Each attack landed exactly where it needed to, shrinking his space with ruthless efficiency. Even with Venom reinforcing him, Peter found himself constantly on the defensive, every movement pressured, every option restricted.
If Venom hadn't been there, those spikes would have torn him apart already.
"This is ridiculous!" Peter snarled, frustration boiling over.
In any other situation, against any other opponent, he would have dominated. But Carnage was different. Every attack it made targeted weaknesses, exploiting every opening with terrifying accuracy.
It wasn't just fighting.
It was hunting.
Peter's expression darkened as he made a decision.
"If that's how it is… then let's stop playing around."
His wrist flicked, and strands of spider silk shot out in rapid succession. They latched onto walls, ceilings, and debris, weaving together into a dense web that spread across the entire room.
The environment changed instantly.
Even Carnage's razor-sharp wings couldn't cut through everything at once. The silk slowed it down, tangling around the edges, forcing it to waste time breaking through each layer.
Peter's eyes lit up.
This was his domain now.
He moved through the web with ease, his body flowing between strands as if they were extensions of himself. From above, from the sides, from every angle, he watched Carnage struggle against the restraints, its movements hindered.
A grin spread across his face.
This was how it was supposed to be.
He was Spider-Man—the apex predator of this battlefield.
"I! Am! Spider-Man!" he roared, his hands morphing into sharp claws under Venom's influence.
He struck.
The attack came fast, precise, aimed straight at Carnage's core. For a split second, it looked like the fight was about to end.
But then—
He stopped.
His claws halted inches away from their target.
Peter's eyes widened, confusion flashing across his face as his body refused to move forward.
"What… what is this?"
Venom's form shifted, part of its face splitting open as it scanned their surroundings. "Threads," it growled. "Tiny threads… they're controlling you."
Peter's gaze snapped downward.
Mixed within his own webbing were countless finer strands—so thin they were nearly invisible. They wrapped around his limbs, his torso, his joints, holding him in place like a puppet suspended midair.
"Venom, get me out of this!" he shouted, panic creeping into his voice.
But before anything could be done—
Carnage's mouth split open.
A deafening roar burst forth, the sound wave crashing through the room like a physical force.
"ROAR!!!"
The effect was immediate.
Venom convulsed, its entire body writhing uncontrollably as the high-frequency sound tore through it. This was its weakness, its most fundamental vulnerability, and Carnage exploited it without mercy.
Peter felt it instantly.
The strength supporting him faltered.
The power he relied on began to slip away.
And in that moment, he realized—
He had lost.
Completely.
His body hung there, suspended, helpless, reduced to nothing more than a puppet waiting for its strings to be cut. The fury, the arrogance, the confidence—it all collapsed, leaving behind something pitiful.
Carnage stepped forward slowly.
Its arm shifted, the blade reforming, gleaming under the dim light like an executioner's weapon. There was no hesitation, no emotion—just purpose.
This was the end.
Peter's breathing grew ragged, his mind racing as fear finally took hold. He struggled, twisted, fought against the invisible restraints, but it was useless.
He wasn't ready.
He couldn't accept this.
"How… how can this be happening…?" His voice cracked, desperation bleeding through.
To die here, like this, without accomplishing anything—
It was unbearable.
Then—
"Clang!!!"
The wall exploded inward.
Chunks of concrete scattered across the room as a figure descended from above, landing with controlled precision. The metallic suit gleamed under the dim light, its surface unmarred despite the impact.
The faceplate slid open, revealing a familiar smirk.
Tony Stark clicked his tongue as he took in the scene—Peter restrained, Carnage poised to strike.
"Well," he said casually, folding his arms as if he had just walked into a show. "Buy one, get one free. Can't ask for a better deal than this."
.....
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