He had floated there in the empty void for endless time, cradling himself. Everything felt cold now, inside and out. He was sad and alone with no light to guide him. If only he could go back to the numbness he once knew so well. Now, he couldn't stop himself from feeling, and all he felt was sadness; hopelessness.

For the first time, he shed a tear that floated into nothing.

…

When the morning sun greeted Peter's eyes, he was tempted to shun it away. The sun was too polite, though, and reminded him how he needed to get up. Today was supposed to be a big day.

His first day of work.

Hatsume wasn't found on the other bed when he woke up, not to his surprise. She was an early bird compared to him. He did notice how she wasn't the only thing missing from the room. The suit which they've spent a lot of time on was also vacant from its usual spot, hanging on the doorknob to the closet. Only the sheet used to cover it was left over. He prayed to whatever God was available that she wasn't test driving it like she threatened to.

Peter quickly jumped out of bed and rushed into the living room. He expected to find Hatsume wearing the suit and making a mess, but luckily found only Inko, as she was preparing to leave for work. Her bag was slung over her shoulder with her hand on the door knob. She gasped softly when Peter rushed out still in his pajamas.

"Goodness! Good morning, Peter!" She greeted, "I was on my way out."

"Hi …sorry," He rubbed his eyes, "Where's Hatsume?"

"She said she had to go home, but she left you a gift on the table."

Peter glanced at the table where a thin box concealed in Christmas wrapping sat patiently. Rather than immediately try to open it, Peter leaned against the table with his eyes on his stepmother, "So …are we okay?"

"Are we?" She asked back.

"We didn't say much last night but …I just wanted to say I was sorry for upsetting you."

"You don't have to be sorry. It's in the past."

"Still …we should at least talk about it."

"We will," She smiled, "We can talk about it tonight, okay?"

With a submissive sigh, Peter agreed, and he watched Inko leave with that same motherly smile; the kind where he never knew if it was real or not.

Now he was alone, with nothing but the gift of a kind friend.

His phone had started going off with several messages. He pulled out the wrong phone at first, remembering he had one for each world. The messages were coming from Rumi Usagiyama; Mirko. She was scolding him, asking when he was arriving at the agency. He sent a quick reply to her as he glanced at the wrapped box on the table.

…

Mirko didn't particularly like running an agency. She preferred to do things on her own. Most of her employees ran their own sections of the agency of their own merit while she worked on her own, checking in on them every once in a while. Though she has made some exceptions when it comes to working with others, she still preferred keeping her circle small.

Again, with exceptions.

Mirko waited in the meeting room of her agency with her metal toes tapping quickly against the floor. Teenagers were known to operate in their own world, but this was still paid time the kid was wasting. As much as she hated thinking like that, it was still the truth.

"Mirko?" Peter's young voice called out, "I'm here!"

"Finally!" She groaned, turning around to greet him.

Spider-Man had just entered the room sheepishly, his shoulders tight from the new uniform over his body. It was a combination of different materials woven together. His red gloves and boots were missing one half vertically, looking more like fins atop the blue surface. The belt of his suit was dethatched from the rest of the red on the chest. The spider logo was now much bigger, with a negative space of blue surrounding it so the red never touches.

It was made from much stronger materials, with memory fabric to prevent rips and tears, while still maintaining a breathable form. Peter still felt a little uncomfortable in it, as this was the first time he had really worn it since it's creation.

"Damn!" She cheered, "Loving the new threads!"

"Polymer and memory fabric, actually," He gloated.

"I'm not calling them that. Still, not a bad look. Could use some more red around the center, though."

"Yeah, Hatsume said the same thing, but I like it."

Mirko, with a smirk, passed a folder across the table to him, which he stopped with his fingers without even looking at it. "This is everything we've been able to find on that bastard," she said.

"You mean Venom?"

"No, Ronald the God Damn clown – yes, Venom!"

Spidey opened the folder to see what they had; It wasn't all that much. A few street light photos, some eye witness reports, a general ability description, but nothing on the man himself. Supposedly, Peter was supposed to fill those blanks.

"What do we know about him?" Mirko asked with her hands to her hips.

"His name is Eddie Brock," He answered, putting the folder down, "and him being a villain is …my fault."

"How?"

"I …there was a point where I was a big jerk. I let everything go to my head—my anger, my remorse—and I hurt Eddie so bad that he decided to give into his own anger. Now, he wants me dead more than anything."

"That all he wants?"

"He's not like Carnage. He won't kill anyone but me."

Despite his reassurance, Mirko wasn't sure. She fought the guy first hand. His strength matched her own, and he was full of so much anger. Who's to say he won't take that anger out on an innocent bystander? It wasn't that she didn't trust the word of the wall crawler, rather, she didn't trust the consistency of a villain.

"We're gonna start at his last known locations," Mirko stated, "If we find him, our job is to tail his ass till he leads us to the rest of the hive."

"Did you just compare super villains to a hive of bee's?"

"Yes. Problem?"

"Nope."

"Good, then march, soldier!"

"Don't …don't ever call me that."

"I will now call you that just to spite you."

Just as she had grabbed the folder so they could leave, a strong presence entered the room. Peter didn't need spider-sense to predict his arrival; the heat of his ego could be felt from the hallway.

Endeavor—the number 2 Pro Hero—entered the room with his flames burning bright. He stared down the two heroes with sharp daggers, and they stared back in silence. Everyone who worked in the agency stopped their work to watch the quiet confrontation, murmuring to one another.

"What are you doing here, Endeavor?" Mirko asked.

"I know you're heading out to seek that creature today," he answered.

"And?"

"And I am joining you."

Mirko and Spider-Man traded looks with one another. This isn't the first Mirko heard of the hero's desire to hunt the villain; that's what worried her was how persistent he seemed to be. "We got this, hot head."

"My abilities will easily smite the villain."

Spider-Man cut in, "Did you just use 'smite' in a serious sentence? You and Thor would get along so well."

"You said it yourself, boy," Endeavor stressed the term, "fire is one of its weaknesses. I am the best hero to take this villain down. You need me in order to stop him."

"I've fought him before."

"Then why is he not behind bars, or better, dead."

At the very word, Spider-Man puffed out his chest and stood tall before the Pro hero. The rivalry between the three shrunk down to two with a strong struggle bouncing between them. Despite his smaller size, Spider-Man had the same powerful presence to match Endeavor. "We don't kill."

"You don't. Sometimes you have to do what is necessary."

"This is not necessary."

"Well, you don't get a say in it."

Mirko cut in, "But I do. Sorry, this mission is just the kid and I."

Endeavor huffed, "You're making a mistake. You need me to take it down."

Mirko approached Endeavor and poked his chest, "What we need is for you to stay out of the way."

She left the room with her shoulders tense as Spider-Man followed behind her, leaving the flaming hero behind to puff smoke of resentment.

…

After leaving the agency, Mirko lead them to her car and drove off. She didn't think she really needed one as her powerful feet let her jump across the city in record time, but she was required to have one by the state for causing too many craters while off-duty. She felt so confined in the metal box of death, unlike the freeing skies she often soared through.

Spider-Man never minded it. Car rides often reminded him of the rides he'd take with his aunt and uncle when he was little. They took quite a few after his parents passed; seeing the city buildings pass by made him feel better.

He liked to play games, pretending he was watching himself parkour over all the obstacles, or gliding his hand against the wind. Now, though, he could barely look out the window, not wanting anyone to see him inside despite the tinted glass.

"Keep shrinking like that," said Mirko, commenting on how he slumped in the chair, "You'll be easier to drag around."

Spider-Man adjusted his seat but remained lowered from the windows view, "I don't get great reception when I go outside."

"That'll change soon, don'tchu worry."

"I can't help but worry."

"Well, stop that."

"Because that's so easy."

She could see there was a lot eating away at him, beyond just the fear of the public. Then again, he always gave off that vibe; always carrying the worlds weight on his fragile shoulders, continuing to move even after they dislocate from the sheer mass of all that responsibility. She partially admired him for it, while also praying he learn to loosen up for his own good, even if she had to beat it into him.

Mirko came to a red light and stopped with her finger tapping against the wheel. She glanced back at the anxious hero several times before finally speaking up.

"Whatever's eating you, tell it you're not a tasty meal."

"It doesn't have taste buds."

"Damn. You're screwed then."

A chuckle was followed by awkward silence, one Mirko just had to break.

"Okay, come on," She pushed, "What's stomping on your brain this time? Besides the weight of capturing your villains to restore the broken faith of an entire society."

"…Well, now that you word it like that …"

She scoffed, "Bug."

"Bunny."

"Duck season."

"Rabbit season."

After a quite pause, Spidey finally spoke up as he sat up in his seat.

"I'm …changing. I thought I had finally figured myself out, but …my powers …my quirk is …mutating, I think."

"How?"

"I'm just getting new abilities, ones I don't know how to control yet. Every time I use them, my body goes into a painful paralysis state. Sometimes, I can't really control when they happen …they just do."

"Well …quirks are known to evolve and change overtime, you know. It just comes with age; it's normal."

"Not for me."

"Kid," She turned her body to face him directly, "Life is going to throw a bunch of changes at you, changes that turn you into someone you haven't met yet. Sometimes it's bad, sometimes it's good, but you just gotta roll with it. If life tries to punch you, punch it right back; deny those lemons it gives you and chuck em' back at full speed."

"Does that work for you?"

"I'm sitting here, aren't I?"

A car behind them honked, making them realize the light was green. Mirko cussed at them loudly, and they went quiet upon seeing she was a Pro.

"My point is," she continued, "Life likes to beat you up, so sometimes, you gotta punch back."

"That's great and all …but the light is green."

"Ohmygod fine!"

Mirko, in a huff, slams on the pedal and screeches the tires and zooming past the intersection. It was enough to startle his spider-senses. "Where are we going anyway?!"

"To infinity and beyond!"

"That's not funny!"

"What's not?" She smirked.

…

As the night drew close and the moon hung in the upside-down sea, the cold-hearted and villainous escaped from their hibernation. The night was an opportunity to let loose all their demonic desires and wreak havoc on those who wronged them. It was a chance to be their true selves, the versions of them society deemed unworthy of existence, judged instead to be locked away where sensitive eyes could never see them.

Eddie was one of those people; trapped within the view that the public demanded. They saw the monster and not the man underneath. When he begged for their help and forgiveness, they told him no and pointed their guns. In this world, it was no different.

The only upside was how easily he could disappear into a crowd. With so many people possessing abilities, another one wasn't much to bat an eye at. It made him feel less like an outcast, if only a little.

He opened the back of a moving truck parked in the back alleys. Several supervillains jumped inside with their gear strung over their back. They didn't have the benefit of being transported via teleport like team A; they had to get there on the scenic route.

"You ready for this, Brock?" asked Martin Li, better known as Mr. Negative, as he emphasized the name over his preferred alter ego.

"Just don't get in our way when we do our thing," Brock answered.

"Spooky. Remember, if you screw this up, they're probably gonna throw you out on the streets," Li jumped into the truck, "Just try not to kill anyone."

"That's a tall order coming from you."

"I kill with purpose. Do you?"

"There's only one person we want to kill."

"Then make sure you squash him."

After stepping into the truck, they closed the door and signaled the driver to start the engine.

As the truck drove carefully through the streets, the villains held onto the sides within the cargo-hold to prevent themselves from falling. It was tight with all the boxes around them, meant to give them cover should any police stop them.

Mr. Negative looked at Brock curiously. He knew they were somewhat similar to each other; sharing a body with more than one mind. He thought that would make it easier to work together. Instead, he found Brock unbearable impulsive and naïve. He just wanted Spider-Man dead and nothing more.

"Why do you wanna kill the spider?" asked Mr. Negative, "I want to because he is an obstacle in the greater plan, but what about you?"

"We're sorry—'greater plan'?" Brock questioned, "What plan is that, exactly? The Leagues?"

"No; my own. The League is a fine partnership, but it's not something I'll dedicate my life to."

"Uh huh, so what's your endgame, then?"

Mr. Negative wagged his finger, "That's my secret, for now."

"If you're not gonna talk, why should we?"

"Because you love to talk."

Brock pondered this, and admittedly, he was right. He did like to talk; he liked being heard. The symbiote, parallel to him, loved attention. It was a match made in hell. "Eddie Brock had a good life before this. He was a photographer and reporter at The Daily Bugle. He had a loving girlfriend, a good career, all until he came along."

"Parker."

"Yeah. Parker was the new guy in the Bugle. He took better pictures, everybody liked him more, even Jonah, though he wouldn't admit it. Brock knew he had to up his game. The problem was, Parker always seemed to get to Spider-Man first when it came to pictures, and pictures of Spider-Man were all that Jonah cared about. Brock became obsessed with being the best, no matter what that meant."

"What did you do?"

"He … started working with a local crime gang. They would cause trouble that Spider-Man would have to stop, and in exchange, Brock would be there to take the pictures. He paid them, of course, but Brock got the money back and then some by selling them to the Bugle. Setting up the crimes was the only way Brock was going to get ahead of Parker."

"You're what, 10 years older than him? How were you getting beat by a kid?"

"You know why," He growled, "The kid is Spider-Man. He cheated, took pictures of himself on his free time and sold them for good money. Eddie didn't have that luxury of being Jonah's money scheme."

"So, then what?"

"Then the asteroid crashed. Spider-Man got the Symbiote, and became more of a pain in the ass. When he found out what Eddie was doing, he called him out publicly, and it tore his life apart. Jonah fire him, his girlfriend found out what he did and broke up with him, no other paper in town would take his work, and without money he lost his apartment. Jonah published an article about him, exposing what he did to all of New York. He would never work in that town again."

As Mr. Negative listened, he did feel a touch of sympathy. Eddie became desperate and obsessed with being the best, and it drove him to a dark place. Because of it he lost everything with no way of getting it back. Considering Parker was the source of it— office anger and obsession— it made sense he wanted payback.

"Even then, why kill him?" asked Mr. Negative, "You couldn't just move somewhere else and change your name?"

"When Eddie got the symbiote, it showed him a better way to live," Eddie said, "Now, we will never be alone, never be weak again. Now, we can both get back at that bug."

It quickly became clear that he no longer wanted to talk. He got the attention he wanted, and turned his head away to lean against the wall of the truck. There was so much anger and revenge in his heart, but Mr. Negative wondered if it was really his own, or if it was a feeling pushed on him by someone – or something – else.

…

Unbeknownst to the truck of villains, another vehicle had been following them at a distance. Inside the smaller vehicle was Pro Hero Mirko, and her 'protégé' Spider-Man.

Mirko was fighting the urge to just ram the truck, as it was one of the suspected modes of transportation the villains used to get around the city. Instead, she had to play the stealth card and follow behind them.

Thankfully she didn't have to follow too far, as Spider-Man rolled down the window and fired something at the license plate.

"What was that?" She asked.

"Spider-tracer," he said, pulling out his phone, "I'll be able to track them as long as we stay within 1 mile."

"Just one?"

"I'm still working on it."

"Riiiight. So, are they in there?"

"How should I know?"

"Don't you have a sixth sense or something?"

"It doesn't work that way. I can only sense physical danger in my surrounding area, or if something drastically changes in the city, like an explosion or something. It's not like I can see through walls or have echo location. I'm not a bat."

"Yeah, cuz' then we'd call you Batman."

"And then we'd get sued."

She glanced at him, then at the truck, trying to understand the connection, "So, this Venom bastard, what's your beef?"

"I told you-"

"You told me generic 'woo is me I caused his origin' but you never really talked about how."

"…I'll try not to get offended."

"No, please, offend, that was the intention."

With a groan, Spider-Man leaned forward and focused carefully on the back of the truck, recalling all of the memories—even the painful ones. He realized quickly though that it may be best to leave out how the symbiote Brock wears is an alien organism, "Back home, I work for the Daily Bugle. I'm a freelance photographer, and our editor—J. Jonah Jameson—wants pictures of Spider-Man more than anything else."

"Big fan?"

"Worst enemy. He hates me and wants the city to hate me too."

"So, why hire you?"

"No one back home knows I'm Spider-Man. So …I started taking pictures of myself stopping crime to make money off it."

"Damn, smart business move. And here I thought you were pure and good, you sneak."

"Anyway," he continued, "Eddie was a photographer, too. He could never compete when it came to Spidey pictures and that made him really mad. So, he got desperate and started staging crimes with a local gang to get pictures just as good as mine."

She paused as the vehicle came to a red light, resting a shoulder over her seat. All jokes aside, someone like that has to be seriously messed up to go that far. At least, that's what she got from it.

"There was a time where I was …in a bad place. I found him out, called him out, and they kicked him out."

"And then he became Venom and wanted revenge."

"The ripple effect of that day cost him everything. I'd hate me too."

"You really sympathize with him that much?"

"In a way …we really weren't that different."

With the light still red, she looked him in the eye, "You are nothing like that monster, Parker. That psychopath wants nothing but your death and for what? Calling him out on his own bad deeds? He's just upset he got caught."

"He holds my anger, Mirko," He said bluntly, "Every bad thing, ever terrible thought I once felt, they're his now."

"I don't …"

"It's okay …you don't have to understand. It's a lot more complicated than you know."

It quickly became clear that he no longer wanted to talk. Peter always acted as though there were still secrets, he held on to. There was so much regret and guilt in his heart, but Mirko wondered if it was really his own, or if it was a feeling pushed on him by someone – or something – else.

…

As they got further from the city, buildings turned quickly into trees and sidewalks into mountains. Both the villain's truck and Mirkos car were some of the only vehicles left on the road. They had been following them for nearly two hours. The moon owned the sky now, refusing to sign it back over to the sun until it's time was over.

"Jesus, where are these assholes going?" She asked aloud for the third time that night.

"Candyland, since you didn't accept my last few answers," Mocked Spider-Man.

"Your last answers were 'The Twilight Zone' and 'The Void."

"One in the same if you ask me."

At this point, the car was closer to the truck than either of them would have liked. Out here in the middle of nowhere, there was little cell service that Peter could piggyback off for his tracking device. The signal was too weak to track from too far.

The driver of the truck looked into his rear-view mirror and saw Mirko's car behind them. Her famous ears were a dead giveaway as a chill ran down his spine. He quickly grabbed the radio sleeping in the front passenger seat and spoke his concern to the crew in the back.

"Something's up," Mirko said, "They're slowing down."

The kid's spider-sense began to tingle as he sat up straight in his seat, "We've been made."

The truck came to a sudden stop, forcing Mirko to slam the breaks. It didn't take long before the cargo doors were kicked open by the villains inside, one of which was equipped with a machine gun. He opened fire immediately on the two, forcing them both to simultaneously kick their doors out and leap to safety before diving behind the car for protection.

"Watch this!" Spider-Man said to Mirko, before beginning to spin a thick web blanket from his wrists.

He ran out into the rain of bullets draped fully in the web blanket, using his sixth sense to guide him. The bullets, though bruising, bounced and slid off of the blanket. When he was close enough, he jumped up and wrapped the villain inside the blanket and stuck him to the truck.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he checked his web-fluid. Making that web blanket takes up an entire cartridge, meaning he already needed to reload his web-shooter. Unfortunately, as he picked up a few pellets to load in, he was punched to the ground, making him drop the pellets.

"Nice new trick, Parker," The growling, demonic voice came from Eddie as the symbiote overtook him, turning him into Venom and showing off his monstrous teeth, "Mind if we show you some of ours?"

Venom moved first and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him over his head, almost as if he was ready to eat him alive. Had it not been for Eddie's humanity, he just might have.

"Eddie-!" Spider-Man choked, "You really need to brush your teeth!"

"Jokes, again? You won't be joking when we consume your corpse!"

"You cannibal! I don't even taste good!"

"Let's find out!"

Before Venom could try and take a bite, the spider kicked off his chest and flipped backwards, pushing off the truck just behind him, and tackling the monster to the ground. From there, he delivered a flurry of full-powered punches, knowing that his enemy could take it. His joking demeanor was weakening as he looked into those hate-filled eyes and adopted their attributes.

Mirko tried to get close and help him, but Mr. Negative stood in her way with his sword brandished.

"Care to dance?" He asked her.

"I don't dance."

Mr. Negative slashed his sword and drove a wave of dark energy at her, which she just barely dodged before he closed the distance between them. He was fast; all she could do was avoid the blade that seemed to come from every direction. It had nearly gotten her, managing to only cut a strand of her hair before she could spin around and throw a kick to his side.

Normally, her kicks send her enemies flying miles, but Mr. Negative only skid back a few yards before coming to a stop. He didn't look like it, but this man was strong.

"You've got spunk!" Said Mr. Negative.

"You've got an ugly mug!" she retorted as the fight continued.

Meanwhile, Spider-Mans blows only became stronger, yet slower as he tired out. Venom used this to grab one of his fists and start swinging him around like a rag doll, slamming his body into the truck, Mirko's car, then into the street.

Spider-Man held his side, where there was likely a broken rib. The monster hovered over him, ready to consume his prey.

"Finally," said Venom, "Vengeance belongs to us!"

"Vengeance," He coughed, "Is a word, and therefore belongs to no one."

"Why must you joke?!" Venom spat, "Why must you treat this as a game?! You stole everything from us! Ruined us! You don't care about our lives! You don't care how you hurt us!"

Spider-Man got to his knees, still holding his ribs as he looked up at the monster, insulted, "Are you kidding me? All I feel is guilt for what I did to you, Eddie!"

"We," he emphasized, "Are Venom!"

"No," he stood up, "You are a broken man wearing a disease."

Venom was ready to strike now, his teeth brandished and drooling for sustenance. How dare he call him a disease, he thought. How dare he play this game while they hurt inside, unable to recover from what the bug had done to them.

How dare he live?

A rather large explosion caught their attention, one that came from a nearby mountain in the forest to the left. They also noticed several lights in some of the clearings, signaling to some form of civilization.

"…A delay for dinner," Venom called it, "We have a job we must do. After that …we'll eat you alive!"

Venom leapt into the sky as his body disappeared into the tree's. Mr. Negative and the other villains followed after him, abandoning the two heroes.

"Where are they going?" Asked Mirko.

Spider-Man looked out into the forest, specifically toward the explosion near the mountain. It was too far away for him to actually see anything, or anyone.

For a moment, though, he thought he heard someone; a familiar voice calling out battle cries. The voice felt nearly broken, yet fueled by rage and determination. It was a voice he knew well.

"I will not let him pass me!" said the voice.

It echoed in Peter's head, overtaking his senses as his eyes blurred. There was an image he could see now in his mind, the image of a boy, scarred and broken, fighting against a muscular enemy.

"As if …" It cried, "I'd let you kill him!"

The image was clear now. The image was Izuku Midoriya.

"…Izuku," Spider-Man realized as his senses returned, "Holy crap …the camp."

"What?" asked Mirko.

"Holy crap, the camp!"

Without explanation, Spider-Man leapt down into for forest, and Mirko followed in confusion.