The sewers of New York were a labyrinth older than the city itself, a sprawling network of ancient tunnels woven into newer pipes, stretching across thousands of unseen pathways. Few knew their full extent—not even the urban explorers who braved the damp, echoing depths in search of secrets buried beneath the streets. Alongside this subterranean maze ran the city's vast subway system, its rumbling trains a lifeline for millions, connected to the sewers through maintenance hatches and splicing chambers where cables snaked through, ready for repair or replacement.
Both systems—sewers and subways—offered countless nooks and forgotten rooms, perfect for those seeking solitude or secrecy.
"78… 79… 80…" Peter grunted, counting each rep as he lifted and lowered a barbell, his arms flexing rhythmically while lying on a bench. Clad in a white sleeveless t-shirt and black training shorts, sweat beaded on his brow, his enhanced physique straining with controlled power, every muscle honed by his recent transformation.
Using the cash from Sokar's suitcase, Peter had invested in top-notch gym equipment—barbells, racks, mats, and more. Over the past few days, he'd scouted the sewers, finding a spacious, abandoned chamber far from prying eyes. Bit by bit, he'd hauled the gear down in secret, transforming the damp, cavernous room into his personal training haven. The faint drip of water and the hum of distant pipes were his only company as he pushed himself, the symbiote's enhancements amplifying every lift, every strain.
Peter hadn't just stopped at the gym equipment. With Sokar's money, he'd upgraded his tinkering setup back at the apartment—new components, cutting-edge parts, and high-grade materials for his gadgets and makeshift lab. Web-shooters, trackers, and other inventions were getting a serious overhaul, each piece more precise and durable than before. The suitcase of cash, still stashed safely in his apartment, held a hefty sum even after his spending. He kept it tucked away, reserved for emergencies or… something else, though he wasn't sure what yet.
"98… 99… 100…" Peter grunted, racking the barbell with a clang and easing himself up from the bench, his muscles and joints protesting with a dull ache from the intense session. Standing, he crossed the damp sewer chamber to a cracked mirror he'd propped against the wall, checking his reflection. His body had gained a few inches in height, his shoulders broader, chest thicker, legs denser—every part of him sculpted into a powerhouse, a far cry from the lean kid he'd been before the symbiote.
These are the fruits of our labor. We still require more sessions, though, the symbiote hummed in his mind, its voice a mix of approval and insistence.
"Can't you do something about the pain?" Peter asked, rolling his shoulders with a wince.
Pain is necessary for us to grow stronger, but we can alleviate it, the symbiote replied, matter-of-fact yet accommodating.
The black training shorts and sleeveless tee shimmered, melting into a cascade of black ooze that flowed over Peter like a warm, soothing shower. The symbiote dulled the aches in his muscles and joints, knitting his body with a faint tingle before fully enveloping him, transforming him into Venom. The training had paid off—his form was bulkier, taller by a few inches, his frame radiating raw power. He flexed a clawed hand, feeling the surge of enhanced strength coursing through him.
"Time to get out of here. We've been cooped up too long," Venom growled, his deep voice echoing in the chamber. He strode through the sewer tunnels, his heavy steps splashing in shallow puddles, until he reached a manhole. Clawing it open, he launched himself into the night air, firing a thick tendril to web-swing between the city's towering buildings, the skyline sprawling beneath him.
As Venom swung through the city, a flash of movement caught the corner of his eye. He pivoted mid-air, landing heavily on a rooftop's edge, claws gripping the concrete. Peering down, he spotted a familiar figure—platinum blonde hair gleaming under the moonlight, clad in a sleek black costume, leaping from roof to roof with feline grace.
"What's she doing now?" Venom muttered, his tongue flicking as he recognized her. Deciding to tail her, he leaped from the roof, firing a thick tendril from his hand and swinging silently after her, keeping to the shadows.
---------------
Felicia Hardy, better known as Black Cat, moved like a phantom across New York's rooftops, each leap precise and effortless, her landings barely disturbing the gravel beneath her feet. Tonight was perfect for her kind of work—the city's pulse was just right for slipping into places that held treasures worth stealing.
She reached the museum's roof, crouching low as she pulled her high-tech goggles over her eyes. With a press of a button, her vision shifted to infrared, revealing the heat signatures of guards patrolling the halls below. Her lips curved into a faint smirk as she mapped their routes, calculating her window of opportunity.
Finding an access hatch on a skylight, she deftly unlocked it with a tool from her belt and slipped inside, her movements honed by years as a master cat burglar. Navigating the museum's interior with ease, she zeroed in on her prize: a platinum crown jewel encrusted with a gleaming ruby, displayed proudly at the center of the main exhibit hall.
Felicia's eyes glinted as she studied the glass case on its pedestal, surrounded by a web of laser sensors and motion detectors. Child's play for someone like her. She pulled a compact grappling hook from her belt, firing it into the ceiling with a soft thwip. The device pulled her upward, suspending her above the case as she descended slowly, her body taut and controlled.
Hovering a few meters above, she extended her hand, retractable claws sliding out from her glove with a faint snick. With surgical precision, she etched a perfect circle into the glass, lifting the cut piece away. Her hand darted inside, snatching the crown and slipping it into the small bag slung across her back—all without brushing a single laser.
Satisfied, Felicia tugged the grappling line, pulling herself back to the ceiling. She landed lightly on the floor, the sensors none the wiser, and retraced her steps, exiting through the same skylight with the crown now hers.
Just as Felicia prepared to slip away from the museum roof, a prickle of instinct made her pause. She spun around, her platinum hair catching the moonlight, and found Venom crouched atop an air conditioning unit, his jagged white eyes fixed on her, his hulking form radiating quiet menace.
"Hello, Spider. It's been a while since we've seen each other," Felicia purred, a sly smile curling her lips as she took in Venom's massive frame. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't impressed. The Web-Head had clearly been hitting the gym—or something more—and that glossy black suit hugged every chiseled muscle, accentuating every contour and ridge of his body in a way that sparked her interest.
Venom leaped down, landing with a heavy thud in front of her, straightening to his full, imposing height as he towered over her. "We go by Venom now," he rumbled, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement. His gaze flicked to the bag slung over her shoulder, the faint bulge of the stolen crown betraying its contents. "Looks like you're still up to the same old tricks."
Felicia's smile widened, undeterred. She sauntered closer, her hips swaying with practiced ease, and ran a white-gloved finger along the ridges of Venom's abs, tracing the sculpted lines with a teasing touch. "The same can't be said about you, my dear," she said, her voice dropping into that familiar, flirty lilt she'd always used to needle him as Spider-Man—only now, it carried an extra spark, fueled by his new, darker edge. "The name change, the new look… Black definitely suits you, Ven~"
"So we've been told," Venom rumbled, his voice steady even as Felicia's gloved hand continued its slow, deliberate slide across the ridges of his abdomen, her touch bold and unapologetic.
"And that 'we' you keep saying? It gives you a certain… charm," Felicia purred, her green eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned in closer. "Makes you all the more desirable, Ven~" Her voice was a velvet tease, each word laced with intent, pushing just the right buttons.
Venom felt a flush of heat ripple beneath the symbiote's surface, a faint echo of Peter's reaction to her flirting. He didn't mind it—hell, part of him enjoyed the game—but he kept his focus sharp. "We could say the same about you, Cat," he shot back, his toothy maw curling slightly. "Black's always been your color. Suits a naughty cat like you, especially tonight."
Felicia's smile widened, a flash of delight crossing her face. "Looks like your look isn't the only thing that's changed," she said, her tone approving, like she was savoring this new, bolder version of him.
"As we said, we've changed—for better or worse," Venom replied, his voice dipping as he refocused, his eyes flicking to the bag slung over her shoulder. "So, how's this gonna go? Easy way… or hard way?"
Felicia sauntered toward the roof's edge, casting a glance back at him, her silhouette framed against the city lights. "I think we both know the answer," she said with a playful smirk. Without another word, she leaped off the roof, firing her grappling hook with a snap and swinging away, her lithe form vanishing into the urban maze.
Venom shook his head, a low growl of exasperation rumbling in his chest. "We really should've seen this coming…" With a flex of his legs, he launched himself after her, firing a thick tendril from his hand and swinging in pursuit, the chase now on.
Felicia and Venom raced across the city, a blur of motion as they leaped from rooftop to rooftop, swinging through the urban jungle. Felicia glanced over her shoulder, her grappling hook firing with a snap as she caught sight of Venom gaining on her, his massive form cutting through the air. She couldn't help but smile—the way his muscles coiled and bulged with each swing, the raw power in his movements, was something to admire.
She hit the next roof running, sprinting full-tilt before leaping again, firing her hook mid-fall and taking a sharp left turn. Venom mirrored her, relentless, his tendrils propelling him forward as he stayed hot on her tail, the distance between them shrinking with every bound.
He was right behind her when she landed, but she turned a fraction too late. Venom crashed into her, tackling her to the rooftop. They rolled across the gravel in a tangle of limbs, coming to a stop with Venom pinning her down, his clawed hands clamping her wrists to the ground.
He loomed over her, his toothy maw splitting into a grin. "Looks like we win this round," he rumbled, his voice smug. His jagged eyes flicked downward, landing on the plunging neckline of her costume, and widened slightly as he registered their compromising position.
"Like what you see, big guy?~" Felicia teased, her voice a sultry purr, her green eyes sparkling with mischief as she arched slightly beneath him.
Venom shook his head, a flush creeping beneath the symbiote's surface, and quickly released her, stepping back to give her space. Felicia rose gracefully, brushing herself off with a cheeky smile. "You're so easy to tease, Ven. Just like old times," she said, planting her hands on her hips.
"Maybe, but we've got new tricks up our sleeve," Venom shot back, his grin returning. A tendril snaked from his back, holding up her bag with the stolen crown inside, dangling it tauntingly. Felicia's eyes widened, her hand instinctively patting her empty back, realizing she'd been outplayed.
"Clever spider…" she murmured, her eyes narrowing playfully, though a hint of respect flickered in them.
"That's what you get for playing hardball, kitty," Venom said, the tendril dropping the bag into his clawed hand with a soft thud.
Felicia sighed, her smile returning, undeterred. "Fine. You win this time. Maybe next time, things'll turn around," she said, winking before leaping off the roof. She fired her grappling hook and swung away, vanishing between the city's towering buildings as Venom watched her go.
That is one wild kitty, if you ask us, the symbiote remarked, its voice tinged with amusement.
Venom sighed, sitting down on the roof's edge as the symbiote retracted, revealing Peter's face. He set the bag with the crown beside him, his hands gripping the ledge. "It's always been like this with her," Peter admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "She loves playing hard to get, pushing people's buttons—especially mine, ever since our run-ins before."
We sense you harbor feelings for her, just like with the other women in your life, the symbiote said bluntly, making Peter sputter, a blush creeping across his cheeks.
"You don't have to remind me," Peter groaned, dragging a hand over his face, his cheeks still warm from the symbiote's jab. "I've got MJ as my girlfriend now, but back then… I had feelings for at least two others. Felicia's one of them."
Yes, we know. You've had quite the relationships in the past, the symbiote remarked, its tone almost teasing, rifling through Peter's memories like an open book.
"Tell me about it," Peter sighed, leaning back on his hands, staring up at the city's glowing skyline. "Mary Jane, Gwen Stacy, Felicia Hardy—those three were the ones I could admit I cared about, deeply. But there were always complications, mostly because of my double life as Spider-Man."
"Sounds to me like you need some help with those issues," a familiar voice cut in, smooth and laced with amusement. A burst of black flames flared to Peter's left, and Sokar materialized, stepping out of the flickering embers to sit beside him on the roof's edge.
Peter's head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. "How'd you get here?" he asked, watching Sokar settle in casually, as if teleporting onto rooftops was just another Tuesday.
Sokar smirked, his amethyst eyes glinting. "A magician never reveals his tricks," he said cryptically, waving a hand with a flourish that made Peter roll his eyes.
"Anyway, what are you doing here?" Peter pressed, his tone wary but curious, shifting to face the armored man.
"Just wanted to check on my favorite spider," Sokar replied, his smile widening as he leaned back, mimicking Peter's posture. "And it looks like he could use some advice about love."
"And what might you know about it?" Peter asked, arching an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite his lingering wariness of Sokar.
Sokar leaned back, a knowing glint in his amethyst eyes. "Many things. I've been in relationships before, Peter. Multiple, in fact—with multiple women at once," he admitted with a casual nod, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Peter blinked, caught off guard. "You were in polygamous relationships?" he asked, surprise creeping into his voice. He hadn't pegged Sokar as the type, though the man's charisma made it oddly believable.
"I was," Sokar confirmed, his tone matter-of-fact. "And let me tell you something: I learned that three things matter most in any relationship—trust, honesty, and the love shared between partners. If you want something that lasts, you've got to choose your words carefully, avoid misunderstandings, and find common ground to keep things from turning sour." His voice carried the weight of experience, and Peter listened quietly, absorbing the advice as it sank in.
"I see…" Peter murmured, glancing at Sokar, his mind turning over the words.
Sokar raised an eyebrow, shifting gears. "Speaking of partners, don't you have one you should be talking to about this new… self of yours?" he asked pointedly.
Peter's eyes widened, a jolt of realization hitting him as he slapped his clawed hands over his face. "Crap, I forgot about MJ," he muttered, his voice muffled with regret.
Sokar facepalmed, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Ah, for fuck's sake, Pete. You're a genius, kid, but sometimes a forgetful one," he said, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
Peter pulled his hands away, the symbiote mask surging back over his face as Venom took over. "We need to talk to her. It's been too long since we've seen each other. Better get going—hope she's not too mad at us. First, let's return this," he growled, snatching the bag with the crown. With a powerful leap, he fired a tendril and swung toward the museum, intent on slipping the jewel back before heading to MJ.
Sokar watched him vanish into the city's glow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I'll see you later than, kid," he said softly before disappearing in a puff of black flames, leaving the rooftop empty.
(Oscorp Industries - Norman Osborn's Office)
High above the city in the sleek, sterile tower of Oscorp Industries, Norman Osborn sat behind his expansive desk, his hands clasped under his chin, a calculating frown etched across his face. His sharp eyes were glued to a series of monitors displaying grainy footage of Venom—ripping through a car roof in Queens, webbing up thugs in an alley, and swinging through the city with predatory grace. The timestamp marked the heist chase from days ago, but Norman's focus was razor-sharp, dissecting every frame.
"How fascinating…" he muttered, leaning closer as Venom's claws shredded metal like paper. The raw power on display dwarfed anything Spider-Man had ever shown. That suit—glossy, black, and alive with movement—piqued his curiosity most of all. Was it amplifying the wearer's physical abilities? A biomechanical enhancement? Or something entirely alien? Whatever it was, its potential was undeniable—a scientific goldmine waiting to be cracked open in Oscorp's labs.
Norman's frown gave way to a slow, predatory smile. "It seems you've surprised me, Spider-Man—or Venom, as you call yourself now," he said softly, his voice laced with intrigue. "I'll be watching you with great interest." He leaned back in his chair, the monitors looping the footage, his mind already spinning plans to acquire that suit—and its secrets—for himself.