Peter sat in a chair, his face full of frustration as he stared at Harry lying unconscious in the hospital bed. Renzo and Mary Jane stood nearby, keeping him company.
"I'm sorry… I did something so extreme…" Peter couldn't bring himself to meet Mary Jane's eyes. The influence of those black creatures had made him arrogant, careless of others' feelings.
"Peter…"
"It's okay," Mary Jane said softly, taking his hand. "That wasn't your intention. I know you still love me."
Her words only deepened Peter's guilt. Her understanding made him feel even worse.
"Harry's going to be fine," Renzo said suddenly, drawing Peter's attention. At that moment, Harry stirred on the bed, letting out a faint groan as his eyes slowly opened.
"Peter… Mary… Jane?" Harry's voice was weak, his gaze unfocused. "What happened? Why are you here?"
"Harry?" Peter looked at him in shock. There was no hatred in his expression—only confusion.
"He doesn't seem to remember what happened," Renzo murmured quietly into Peter's ear. "Do you want me to restore his memory? I'm very good at that sort of thing."
Peter hesitated. He looked at Harry, weak but chatting softly with Mary Jane, then thought of the pain Harry had endured.
"No… it's better this way."
Renzo studied Peter for a moment. Perhaps it wasn't for Harry's sake—but for Peter's.
"My father… he passed away?" Harry asked with difficulty. His memories were fragmented, like faint impressions that barely lingered.
"Yes." Peter nodded, watching him nervously, afraid he might remember everything and turn against him again.
For everyone's sake, Peter decided not to tell Harry anything. He would wait for his memories to return naturally.
"Hah… it feels like I went on a long journey… and only now came back…" Harry said with a faint, self-deprecating smile.
Mary Jane looked at him with sympathy. They had once been lovers, and now everything felt so distant.
"Sorry, visiting time is over. The patient needs rest."
A nurse entered just in time, gently but firmly ushering Renzo and the others out of the room.
"He'll be okay, right?"
"I think so… what about you, Peter?"
"…Yeah."
Peter didn't want to continue the conversation. He was torn—he wanted Harry to recover, but also to forget the pain. Yet the choice wasn't his to make.
Renzo glanced at Peter's conflicted expression and sighed inwardly.
"I'm heading out. By the way, Peter—Aunt May is still at home waiting for you to come back for dinner. You can take Mary Jane with you… though she's probably already asleep."
Renzo reminded him, hoping he wouldn't make too much noise and wake her. Elderly people slept lightly—especially someone like Aunt May, who needed proper rest.
Renzo left without waiting. He had no intention of staying with Peter and Mary Jane—he still needed to return to Otto's lab. Flint was there, and it was best not to let him cross paths with Peter for now.
After all, Flint was responsible for Ben Parker's death.
The thought gave Renzo a headache. He had never been good with complicated relationships. Even in his previous life, family gatherings during the holidays had made him uneasy, afraid of becoming the subject of idle conversation.
Back then, he had moved out early, choosing to live alone. During holidays, he would only stay home briefly—and when visiting relatives, he'd hide away, wearing an eye mask and earplugs, sleeping until noon.
"And Venom…"
Lately, Renzo had been searching the outskirts at night for traces of the symbiote. He had found signs of it, but not its exact location.
He frowned. Could it already be hiding in the city, coexisting with a host?
He doubted it had bonded with a "good" person. There weren't many in that area. Of course, it might have attached itself to an animal—after all, in some cases, symbiotes could bond with non-human hosts.
The thought made his head ache even more. Sandman was already a ticking time bomb. Even before gaining his powers, Flint hadn't exactly been law-abiding. Expecting him to behave now was wishful thinking.
Shaking his head, Renzo drove toward Otto's laboratory.
...
It was late into the night. The streets were empty except for a few homeless figures. The silence felt almost unnatural.
Renzo decided against opening the door—it would make too much noise and attract attention. Instead, he phased inside.
Otto was still hard at work at the lab bench, but Flint was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Flint?" Renzo frowned. He had specifically told him not to go out. Had he ignored that?
Suppressing his irritation, Renzo said seriously, "He's a criminal. If something happens, I won't be able to cover for him. And that will make things very difficult for you."
"I'm here."
Flint's voice came from below. Sand surged up from a sewer opening, gathering into a human form.
"Where were you?"
"Hiding the money. The cash I took—I stashed it." Flint spoke bluntly. "I don't trust you, so I needed a backup plan."
Renzo rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Do whatever you want—as long as you don't go out."
With that, he joined Otto in continuing their research.
...
Eddie had never felt this good—this powerful. He wanted to shout, to revel in it, like a wild animal set free.
His black form was veined with crimson, white eyes gleaming as he gazed out over the city skyline.
The wind from the rooftop brushed against him as he stood there. He had fully merged with the symbiote, experiencing a level of power he had never known.
"That creature… gave me the power to rule everything…"
Eddie had fought the mutated monster in the outskirts—and as expected, he had won. Like the symbiote that once bonded with Spider-Man, the piece torn from the creature had granted Eddie similar abilities.
Fueled by the symbiote and his own dark impulses, Eddie had torn the monster apart and devoured it in a frenzy.
Now, he stared at the black ring on his hand. Strange runes were etched into its surface, faint traces of dark magic drifting from it like smoke, coiling around him.
"Other worlds… the multiverse… here I come."
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