[New York City. Pier 47. An Abandoned Warehouse. Three Days Later.]
The warehouse echoed with the sound of breaking bones and terrified screams.
Wilson Fisk's smuggling operation was being dismantled, piece by piece. But the man dismantling it wasn't making quips. He wasn't leaving the criminals neatly webbed up for the police with a friendly note.
He was breaking them.
A heavy-set smuggler crawled backward across the concrete floor, his face bloodied. Looming over him was Spider-Man. But the red and blue were gone. The suit was a shifting, liquid black, with a jagged white spider sprawling across its chest.
"Please," the smuggler begged, holding up his hands. "I surrender! I'm down!"
Peter Parker didn't say a word. The black suit rippled around his fists. He reached down, grabbing the man by his tactical vest, and hoisted him effortlessly into the air with one hand.
Peter looked at a massive wooden shipping crate suspended by a rusted crane above them. He raised his other hand, pointing a web-shooter at the release lever.
He was going to drop it. He was going to crush the man.
Thwip.
The black tendril shot toward the lever.
But it never reached its target.
A silver butter knife spun through the air, moving faster than a bullet. It sliced cleanly through the thick, organic web line, pinning the severed end into a steel girder with a loud CLANG.
Peter's white, jagged lenses snapped toward the shadows.
"Who's there?" Peter's voice was deep, echoing with a feral resonance.
Stepping out from behind a stack of shipping containers was Sebastian Michaelis. He wore a flawless black tailcoat, his white gloves pristine against the grime of the warehouse. He carried a silver serving tray tucked neatly under one arm.
"That is quite enough, boy," Sebastian said, his voice calm, but carrying a weight that made the air in the warehouse feel instantly colder. "You are making a mess."
[The Warning]
Peter dropped the smuggler, who immediately scrambled away into the dark.
"Who are you?" Peter snarled, stepping forward. The spell held firm; he looked at Sebastian and saw only a stranger in a ridiculous suit. But the symbiote beneath his skin reacted violently. It rippled and spiked, sensing something utterly terrifying in the tall man's posture.
"I am a concerned observer," Sebastian replied, brushing a speck of dust from his lapel. "And you are tracking mud all over your soul."
"Get out of my way, Jeeves," Peter cracked his knuckles. "Or I'll put you in a hospital."
"You are welcome to try," Sebastian smiled—a thin, polite line. "But I must warn you: I am a strict disciplinarian."
[The Ring]
With a roar, Peter lunged.
He crossed the thirty feet between them in a fraction of a second, throwing a punch that could easily punch through a bank vault.
Sebastian didn't block it. He simply tilted his head two inches to the left.
Peter's fist sailed past his ear, the sheer force of it cracking the concrete pillar behind Sebastian.
Before Peter could recover, Sebastian brought the heavy silver tray up, slapping it flat against Peter's chest. The impact wasn't meant to break bones; it was meant to displace air. Peter gasped, stumbling backward.
"Your footwork is sloppy," Sebastian critiqued. "You rely entirely on the parasite's adrenaline."
The word parasite triggered the suit.
Thick, black tendrils erupted from Peter's back, whipping toward Sebastian like bladed tentacles.
Sebastian moved into a blur of motion. He ducked under the first tendril, vaulted over the second, and caught the third with his bare, gloved hand. The symbiote hissed, trying to bite through the fabric, but Sebastian's demonic durability held firm.
"A very aggressive tailor," Sebastian noted.
He pulled the tendril hard, yanking Peter forward. As Peter stumbled, Sebastian delivered a swift, elegant kick to the back of Peter's knee, forcing the boy down.
Peter roared, spinning around with a sweeping kick. Sebastian leaped backward, landing lightly on top of a shipping container.
The symbiote surged, enveloping Peter completely, turning him into a hulking, monstrous mass of black muscle and white, glaring eyes. It opened a maw of jagged teeth.
Sebastian's fuchsia eyes glowed brightly in the dark.
"Brute force," Sebastian sighed. "How utterly unrefined."
[The Resonance]
Sebastian realized that engaging in a physical brawl with a host driven by an alien parasite was a waste of calories. The suit was alive. It was biological. And all biological things had a weakness.
He noticed the rusted steel pipes running along the ceiling, and the hollow metal shipping containers stacked around them.
Peter lunged up toward the container, claws extended.
Sebastian reached into his coat and pulled out two more silver knives. But he didn't throw them at Peter.
He threw them at the hollow steel pipes above.
CLANG. CLANG.
Sebastian then stomped his heel onto the hollow metal roof of the shipping container with the force of a hydraulic press.
BOOOOOOM.
The warehouse became an echo chamber. The high-frequency resonance vibrated through the steel and concrete.
The reaction was immediate.
The symbiote shrieked. It was a sound of pure agony. The black mass began to violently writhe and peel back from Peter's body, unable to withstand the intense acoustic assault.
Peter dropped to his knees on top of the container, clutching his head. "Make it stop!"
Sebastian stood over him. The resonance faded, leaving a ringing silence.
The symbiote had retracted, pooling around Peter's boots, exposing Peter's face. He looked pale, exhausted, and terrified. His eyes were bloodshot.
Sebastian knelt down. From his breast pocket, he withdrew a highly polished silver pocket watch. He snapped it open and held the mirrored surface in front of Peter's face.
"Look at yourself," Sebastian commanded, his voice devoid of any warmth.
Peter looked into the reflection. He saw the dark circles under his eyes. He saw the cruelty twisting his features. He saw the black ooze slowly crawling back up his neck, desperate to reclaim him.
"You think you are in control," Sebastian whispered, his eyes locking onto Peter's. "But the suit is wearing you. It feeds on your grief. It drinks your isolation. If you do not discard it, it will hollow you out until there is nothing left but a monster."
Peter swallowed hard. He looked at the blood on his hands. Not his blood.
"I... I need it," Peter choked out. "I'm not strong enough without it. I'm alone."
"A boy in a homemade suit defeated a Titan," Sebastian corrected softly, dropping a hint of the past. "You do not need a parasite to be strong."
The symbiote surged, reacting to Peter's vulnerability. It washed over his face, snapping the white lenses back into place.
"Shut up!" The dual-voice roared.
Peter fired a massive black web at the ceiling, yanking himself up and smashing through the skylight, disappearing into the freezing rain.
Sebastian did not pursue.
He closed his pocket watch with a sharp click.
"The seed is planted," Sebastian murmured, looking up at the broken glass. "Now, we wait for the harvest."
[End of Chapter 77]
_________________________________________________________________________
🔥 Hey legends! Quick updates! 🔥
💥 Can't wait for the next chapter? Good news—ALL advance chapters are available on Patreon for just $5! No more waiting, just pure binge-reading goodness! 🚀
👉 patreon.com/cyci07
✨ Power Stone Challenge! ✨
If we hit 100 power stones, I'll drop 2 bonus chapters! Let's see if you guys can make me suffer! 😂
💬 Enjoying the story? Leave a review and let me know your favorite moment so far! It helps the novel grow and reach more readers!
Thanks for all your support—you guys are awesome! ❤️