Chapter 7: Planning Ahead

In which both heroes and villains make plans for the future.


V was still exhausted, but they had recovered their strength enough to move farther away from that disastrous alley. They perched on a rooftop right next to the subway exit that Leslie had been heading to before being spectacularly derailed.

They were rearing to go to Ravencroft and finally reunite with Eddie, but they couldn't. Not yet. Right now, their child was more important.

V reached out with a black tendril and brushed it through the host's red hair. He looked young: about Leslie's age, maybe even less. He was still unconscious, but his expression was peaceful: the child must have already healed him and now was simply gathering their strength.

It was already dark when the human finally began to stir. He opened his eyes and for a few seconds he simply stared at the night sky. Then he lifted himself on his elbows, pulled up his torn and bloodied shirt, and ran his hands over his stomach where there wasn't a single trace of the wound left.

"Good job, Carrie," he whispered with a smile.

Carrie? Was that the child's name?

V rippled in joy. Their child had a name and their host had accepted them!

Then the human noticed Leslie and awkwardly raised his hand in greeting, "Um… Hi? Have you been sitting here all this time? …How much time has it been anyway?"

Leslie shrugged, "About an hour? I don't have my watch on me. I'm Leslie, by the way." She pointed at V, who was once again pretending to be her jacket, "This is V."

"Cameron. You can call me Cam."

Blood-red liquid streaked with dark crimson welled up around his neck, stretching in long tendrils to drape over his shoulders like a makeshift scarf.

Cameron reached up to pet them. "And this is Carrie."

The child formed a dark face with white eyes and rows of black teeth and said in a quiet hiss that barely registered as words, "Hi, parent. Hi, Leslie."

Leslie made a surprised noise, "So you can speak out loud!"

"It's difficult to say more than a couple of words at a time, and not everyone can do this," V said mentally. "Not to mention language barrier. Telepathic communication is much easier."

Leslie nodded in understanding, then said, "You know, you're taking this all pretty well, Cam."

Cameron shrugged, "I already had the time to freak out and calm down. Plus, the way I see it, being possessed by a friendly alien beats dying from a stab wound."

Carrie hissed and wrapped themself tighter around his shoulders.

Cameron petted them with a smile, "I know, I know… You're not letting me die on your watch."

After the rejection V had suffered, this easy affection was a delight to see. V never wanted their child to go through the same pain they did. How lucky they were to find such a good host…

"But anyway," Cameron continued. "Carrie has told me a few things, but they don't know everything themself. So, what's going on here? They said that V has been separated from their host and you are now trying to reunite them?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Leslie replied. "It goes like this…"


Leslie quickly recapped the recent events and everything that V had told her. By the time she finished, Cameron was starting to look a little shell-shocked.

"So… We're going to break into a prison-slash-insane-asylum?" Cameron asked incredulously. "Man, what the hell is even my life… First aliens, now this… I just wanted to buy a video game!"

"And I just wanted to have a date with my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. You never know when your life is gonna turn all weird," Leslie sympathized.

"Well, we do live in New York," Cameron said dryly. "This city is like a magnet for weirdness. I bet stuff like this would never happen in Wisconsin."

"…You know, you don't have to get involved," Leslie pointed out. "Now that V is no longer pregnant, I think we have it handled."

She could feel that V was still tired, but they had recovered enough to handle a break-in.

"We're already involved," Cameron disagreed. "I would've died if Carrie didn't heal me. I owe it to them to help their parent. Besides, what are you gonna do if that weird guy reappears and tries to hypnotize you again, huh? I know that both Carrie and I are totally new at this, but isn't it better to have backup?"

"He has a point, Leslie."

"Well, if you're sure…" Leslie drawled skeptically. "I don't know if I'm okay with putting a minor in danger."

Granted, she had only recently hit eighteen herself, but still…

"Excuse me? I'm nineteen!"

Leslie raised an eyebrow, "Really? You look barely fourteen."

"No, I don't!" Cameron grumbled. "I know I look younger than I really am, but not by that much. I could even show you my ID, if I didn't leave it at home."

Leslie raised her hands in surrender, "Okay, I believe you. Now, the question is, how exactly are we gonna do this?"

"What was your plan before we came into picture?" Cameron asked.

"We were still trying to decide between two options. The first one was to just walk through the front doors as a visitor and ask to see Eddie."

Cameron glanced at the dark sky, "I'm pretty sure the visiting hours are already over."

"Exactly. And this would also expose my identity," Leslie continued. "So I'm not very fond of this plan."

V had told her that they might be capable of changing her appearance, but it was a very finicky ability. And considering how shaky the bond between them was, V wasn't sure they would be able to pull it off for as long as they needed.

"What's the plan B?"

"Straight-up breaking in. In our transformed state, no one would see my face, until V returns to Eddie. After that we'll just have to run really fast and, hopefully, no one will see who I am and I won't get arrested. The main problem with this plan is that… Well. We don't know where exactly Eddie is. We'll have to search the building for who knows how long, and we'll probably end up fighting the guards too."

"Ha! I told you that you'll need back-up!" Cameron crowed.

Leslie rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder, "Stop gloating. Can you two even transform yet?"

Cameron grinned and jumped to his feet, "Why don't we find out? Ready when you are, Carrie!"

The symbiote that was still wrapped around his neck like a scarf liquefied, spilling down his shoulders. Then one by one, spots of red appeared all over his body, dripping like blood.

Even though it was dark, V granted Leslie an impeccable night vision. She could see it when the colors started to change, black and dark crimson mixing in with red.

Leslie didn't get a good look at herself when she had been transformed, but she knew from V's memories that Venom's skin was smooth and glossy black, other than the white spider-like symbol on their chest and back. But the new symbiote was an uneven mix of colors, with surface that glistened like it was wet.

It made them look like they were covered in blood and gore.

When his entire body up to his neck was swallowed in a writhing mass of mottled red, Cameron tilted his head back and laughed breathlessly as the symbiote crawled up his face, "This feels incredible!"

When the symbiote enveloped him fully, he opened blank white eyes and grinned with a maw full of blackened fangs like a demented jack-o-lantern, proclaiming in a high-pitched distorted voice, "We are Carnage!"

Then he promptly slapped one clawed hand over his face, "Carrie, I thought we agreed that we're not going to use that name!"

"Why not? It's a good name," V said out loud.

"See? My parent agrees!"

"That's because you inherited their horrible taste!"

It was easy to tell which of them was speaking. Cameron sounded almost the same, with only a slight distortion in his voice. Carrie's voice was much higher and the distortion in it was heavier.

Still, the sight of this walking nightmare arguing with themselves over their own name was so ridiculous, Leslie couldn't help but laugh. "You two would make a great comedy duo."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Cameron deadpanned. "The audience would run away the moment we say our name."

Leslie snorted. "Don't sell yourselves short: you won't even get the time to introduce yourselves. They'll run away the moment they see you."

She took a small mirror that had somehow survived all the recent madness out of her pocket and tossed it to him. Cameron caught it in one hand and finally took a proper look at his new form.

"Oh my god…" he whispered in horrified fascination, poking at the sharp tips of his fangs. "We look like something that crawled out of the set of The Thing. You're absolutely right: everyone who sees us is going to run away screaming."

Then he sighed heavily and tossed the mirror back, "Oh, well… No point in complaining: it's not like there's anything we can do about it."


"But why is it a bad thing?" Carrie whined mentally. "I don't get it. Everyone should be scared of us."

"Didn't you hate it when I had been scared?" Cameron pointed out.

"That's different! You're my host! But if the bad guys run away when they see us, that's good, right?"

"But it's not just the bad guys, Carrie! Everyone would be afraid of us, even the people we're trying to help."

"Leslie isn't afraid."

"Yeah, but she's hosting V and she literally saw you being born. If someone who knew nothing about symbiotes saw us, they would be terrified. Hell, considering what you told me about your species, even if someone did know what you are, they'd still be terrified!"

"So what?" Carrie asked. "If we save someone's life, does it matter if they are scared? We'd still be helping them. I want to help others, Cam. I know you want it too."

Cameron looked down at his hands and slowly flexed his fingers. They lengthened and solidified into massive blood-red talons. The uneven surface of his arms rippled and split off into several writhing tendrils, all of them completely under his control. He knew that right now he was stronger, faster, and more durable than any ordinary human being.

He could feel the power flowing through his veins. With it, he would be able to help others. Actually do something, not just get in the way.

There were so many dangers in this city: superpowered villains, ordinary criminals, various accidents and disasters, all of them threatening the lives of innocent people.

Having this power, how could he ever step back and do nothing?

Cameron smiled, feeling the edges of his monstrous maw curl upwards, "You're right, Carrie. As long as we can help others, it doesn't matter what everyone thinks. It will all be worth it."


Baron Mordo paced uneasily around his lair. All the unexpected developments had rattled his confidence, and he was no longer sure that he would be able to persuade Brock to join his side.

Moreover, he knew full well that even if Brock did agree to work for him, there was a high chance of betrayal. Even using Brock and the symbiote against each other might not bring the desired results.

What he needed was insurance. Something to fall back on should Brock turn on him.

He slowly smirked. And he might have just the thing for that.

He entered his personal treasury and walked past various magic relics he had gathered over the years. All of them were incredibly powerful, but too… conditional to make much use of. Some had dangerous drawbacks, others had highly specific requirements to activate, so they had all ended up collecting dust in the treasury.

But there was one object in there that might come in handy.

Mordo stopped in front of a small pedestal that held a glowing orange crystal. Narrow and sharp, with an uneven surface, it looked like a shard broken off from something bigger. It was suspended inside a forcefield that kept it from touching anything, otherwise, the unbearable heat it emanated would've melted straight through the stone.

Back, at the dawn of time, the Eternal Flame of Destruction had been stolen from Muspelheim by the arrogant gods of Asgard. It was their attempt to avoid Ragnarok, for it was the Flame's rightful owner Surtur, first of the Fire Giants, who was prophesized to destroy Asgard when the end of days came.

For millennia, the ruler of Muspelheim had attempted to return what was rightfully his. But Asgard was not so easily defeated, forcing him to try a different solution: not to take back the Eternal Flame, but to copy its power and recreate it.

But the king of Asgard had learned of it and waged war once more. His armies had defeated and imprisoned Surtur, and the Fire Giant's masterpiece, still unfinished, had been destroyed.

This was all that was left: the last remaining shard of the Shattered Heart of Muspelheim.

It glimmered enticingly, promising power to anyone who touched it, but Mordo wasn't fool enough to trust it. When his master had shown Mordo where to find this crystal, he had also explained the dangers it could bring. (This was why Mordo had made his pact with great Dormammu in the first place: to obtain knowledge and power far beyond the measly tricks that the Ancient One had taught him.)

Even now, with its power stifled beneath layers upon layers of defenses, Mordo could feel the malevolence it radiated, its desire to bring the end of the world. He knew that only those who shared its lust for destruction and didn't care if they themselves burnt to ashes could wield the power of this crystal.

And even that was only temporary. Eventually, everyone burnt up.

It was only a question of time.

But Mordo didn't care what happened to his pawns once they outlived their usefulness. If Brock ever dared to cross him, Mordo would see to it that both he and the symbiote perished in the crystal's destructive fury.


A/N: Eternal Flame of Destruction is an actual thing in the Marvel universe. It's a mystical flame that cannot be extinguished, and it was stolen from Surtur by Odin in an attempt to prevent Ragnarok.