Author's note: Leave a comment and enjoy.
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Gwen Stacy did not scream. She did not bolt for the door, nor did she call for her father. Years of living in a New York that had seen gods fall from the sky and aliens tear through the fabric of reality had tempered her. Instead, she retreated to the center of her room, her back hitting the edge of her mattress, her eyes wide and scanning her own limbs as if they belonged to a stranger. Her heart was a drum, but her mind was a calculator, already beginning to process the impossible.
"Stay calm, Stacy," she whispered to the empty air, her voice cracking only slightly. "2012. We've seen this. It's biological. It's extra-terrestrial. It's... inside me."
I am, the voice resonated. It didn't sound like a monster from a holovideo. It sounded young, hesitant, and strangely apologetic. I didn't mean to hide. I just... I needed to stabilize. The entry was violent.
Gwen took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing her fight-or-flight response into a box. She was a scientist, first and foremost. To her, fear was often just a lack of data. "You're a parasite," she stated, regaining a flicker of her usual sharpness. "A sentient, carbon-based organism that has successfully integrated into my nervous system. If I go to a hospital, if I tell Stark Industries..."
They would dissect us both, the voice replied, a wave of cold melancholy washing through Gwen's mind. And I have no information to give them. I am a Klyntar. That is the only word that feels 'right' in my mind. But beyond that? I am a blank slate. A newborn with a hollow history.
Gwen paused. She reached for her desk, grabbing a heavy brass paperweight—not to throw, but to feel its weight, to ground herself in reality. She wasn't terrified; she was on high alert, her intellectual curiosity tugging at the edges of her suspicion. "A newborn? You talk like someone with a vocabulary, not a baby. And you're telling me you have no identity? No name? No mission?"
None, he admitted. I learn from you. I am a passenger, Gwen. I don't want to control you. I just want to exist.
"Everyone wants something," Gwen countered, her eyes narrowing. She walked over to her desk and opened her leather-bound notebook, clicking her pen. If she was going to be an 'host', she was going to be an informed one. "Rule number one: No secrets. If we're sharing a body, we're sharing the blueprints. You say you're at my mercy? Prove it."
The honesty of the question hung in the air. For a long moment, there was silence. Then, Gwen felt a strange sensation—a sub-dermal tingle, like a confession being whispered through her marrow.
High-frequency sound, he whispered. And fire... intense heat. It burns me faster than I can regenerate. If you ever want me gone, a simple blowtorch or a sonic emitter would do the job.
Gwen stopped writing. She stared at the page, her pen hovering over the words Weaknesses: Sonics/Thermal. By giving her the keys to his own destruction, the entity had done something a Chitauri warrior never would have. He had surrendered.
"Okay," Gwen murmured, her posture relaxing just an inch. "That's a start. You stay out of my brain's executive functions. You don't 'pilot' me. You stay in the passenger seat until I say otherwise. Understood?"
Understood, he replied, a sense of genuine relief echoing in their shared consciousness.
As Gwen began to pace the room, muttering about "biological compatibility" and "metabolic load," he felt her focus shift away from him. It was the opening he needed. While she was busy being the scientist, he needed to understand the tools he had been given in that white void.
But before that, he had a name to choose. He didn't remember anything about himself; he was a blank slate, a soul without a label. He felt the vast library of Gwen's mind—not her private thoughts, but the echoes of her world. He took a gentle peek into the periphery of her memories, searching for a sound, a syllable that felt like it could anchor him. He brushed past names of streets, scientists, and old childhood pets, until his "eyes" landed on a constellation she had studied once. Leo. It was bold, simple, and felt like a spark in the dark.
"I found a name," he said, his voice clearer this time. "Leo."
Gwen stopped pacing. She tasted the name in her mind. "Leo. Like the lion. Or Da Vinci. Fine. It beats 'Specimen Zero'."
While Gwen sat at her desk, meticulously examining a strand of her own hair under a magnifying glass, Leo withdrew. He focused inward, seeking the "slight advantage" promised by the entity in the void.
Suddenly, a HUD (Heads-Up Display) flickered into his consciousness. It wasn't a floating screen in the real world—Gwen couldn't see it—but a layer of information mapped directly onto his perception.
[Statut]
[Name: Leo]
[Specie: Klintar]
[Host: Gewn Stacy]
[ABILITIES]
[Biomass Morphing: The ability to reshape the boby form]
[Regeneration: Healing factor]
[Genetic Manipulation: Light genetic modification and enhancement of thhe host]
She's into biology, Leo thought, watching Gwen mutter about mitochondrial ATP. If I can show her how I can enhance her cells... she might actually stop looking at me like a virus. And nobody would refuse a healing factor.
Leo felt a sharp, gnawing sensation in Gwen's stomach. It was a hunger so sudden and intense it made her gasp and drop her pen.
"Wait," Gwen groaned, clutching her midsection. "Why do I feel like I haven't eaten in three weeks? My metabolism... it's red-lining."
It's me, Leo explained, feeling a bit guilty. Maintaining this bond is expensive. We need food, Gwen. Specifialy what you contain Phenylethylamine. What you call chocolat. Or... he paused, seeing the "Biological Tissue" suggestion on his screen. Let's just stick to the chocolate for now.
"Chocolate. Right." She grabbed her hoodie, her eyes flickering with a mix of scientific intrigue and the simple, primal urge to eat. "We're going to the bodega. And you're going to tell me more about this 'instinct' of yours, Leo. If I'm going to be a lab rat, I'm going to be the most informed lab rat in Queens."
Leo stayed quiet. He was a nameless soul no longer. He was Leo, and he had a world to explore, a host to protect, and—most importantly—a massive craving for cocoa.