People on the street heard Leon’s scream long before they understood where it was coming from.
Heads tilted upward.
“What the hell is that?” The screaming grew louder.
Then a black figure plunged out of the darkness above them.
Leon dropped toward the street at terrifying speed.
Thirty feet.
Twenty.
Ten.
Just when it looked certain that he was about to turn himself into a stain on the pavement— Thwip!
A strand of webbing shot toward a nearby building.
At barely eight feet above the ground, Leon’s fall abruptly transformed into a violent upward swing.
His black-clad body rocketed away like a toy yanked on the end of a string.
“AAAAAAAH!” The scream faded into the distance.
Several pedestrians stared after him.
“Was that Spider-Man?” “I don’t know.
Spider-Man usually doesn’t scream like he’s being murdered.” “What was he even yelling?” “No idea.” The black figure disappeared between the buildings too quickly for anyone to get a clear look.
Web-swinging was so closely associated with Spider-Man that most people simply assumed they’d witnessed another bizarre episode involving New York’s resident wall-crawler.
Within minutes, the crowd moved on.
New York had stranger things to worry about.
Several blocks away, Leon landed on the roof of a high-rise.
The instant his feet touched concrete, he ripped control of his body back from Venom.
A black tendril rose from his shoulder and formed Venom’s head.
Leon immediately grabbed it with both hands.
“You absolute bastard!” He shook Venom violently.
“I almost had a heart attack!” Venom’s head flopped from side to side.
“I got discharged from the hospital this morning!” Venom seemed completely unconcerned.
“Oh, come on.” Leon shook harder.
“We’re fine.” “That’s not the point!” “Your body is my body.” Venom spoke as though this settled everything.
“Why would I damage something I live in?” “You were dropping us face-first toward the street!” “I told you.” Venom grinned.
“Even if you broke into a few pieces, I could put you back together.” Leon stared at him.
Venom stared back.
“You keep saying that like it’s comforting.” “It should be.” “It really isn’t.” Venom didn’t have a conventional neck, lungs, or respiratory system.
Leon could’ve spun its head around like a helicopter rotor and accomplished absolutely nothing.
The symbiote knew it too.
Which was probably why it looked so smug.
Leon narrowed his eyes.
Then an idea occurred to him.
His expression changed.
Venom noticed immediately.
“What?” Leon released its head.
“Nothing.” That made Venom considerably more suspicious.
Leon smiled coldly.
“Actually, I was just thinking about chocolate.” Venom froze.
Leon had his full attention now.
“If I’m understanding your biology correctly, you really like chocolate.” Venom’s eyes shifted.
“More specifically, you need something in it.” Leon folded his arms.
“I was planning to keep plenty of good chocolate around for you.” Venom’s expression brightened.
“But after that little stunt?” The smile vanished.
“No chocolate.” Silence.
Venom stared at him in horror.
“For the foreseeable future.” “No.” “Yes.” “Leon.” “No chocolate.” Venom’s entire attitude collapsed instantly.
“I’M SORRY!” Leon almost laughed.
Venom rushed closer.
“I was wrong!” “So now you’re sorry?” “Yes!” “I thought falling into the street was perfectly safe.” “It was safe!” Leon raised an eyebrow.
Venom immediately corrected itself.
“I mean—it was technically safe, but I understand that you didn’t enjoy the experience.” “Didn’t enjoy it?” “I’ll never do it again!” Venom’s voice became almost pleading.
“No more surprise dives.
No reckless swinging.
No dropping you off buildings.” Leon turned away with a satisfied grunt.
“Good.” Chocolate, apparently, was the key to symbiote discipline.
He walked toward the edge of the rooftop.
New York stretched beneath him.
Streams of orange-red headlights flowed through the streets like glowing rivers.
Windows shone from countless buildings.
Neon signs flashed advertisements into the night.
Even after sunset, Manhattan seemed more alive than many places did in broad daylight.
Leon stood there quietly.
Then he took a deep breath.
The wind brushed against his hood.
Strangely, his chest didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.
Maybe it was difficult to drown in grief when an alien symbiote had just spent several minutes trying to scare him to death.
Venom stopped complaining about its chocolate sentence.
Its head formed beside Leon’s shoulder again.
Neither of them spoke.
They simply looked out over the city.
For several minutes, the two remained on the edge of the rooftop beneath the moonlight.
A faceless black figure.
And a monstrous head growing from his shoulder.
Anyone who happened to see them would’ve probably assumed some circus nightmare had escaped into Manhattan.
Leon didn’t care.
For once, the silence felt peaceful rather than empty.
Eventually, he stood.
“All right.” Venom glanced at him.
“Back to testing.” There was still a lot he needed to understand.
They started with his enhanced senses.
Then strength.
Reaction speed.
Agility.
Venom’s previous bond with Peter Parker had left it with access to abilities very similar to Spider-Man’s.
One of the strangest was the instinctive danger warning Peter possessed.
Leon felt it as an almost supernatural alert—a warning that could trigger before his conscious senses fully recognized a threat.
Calling it Spider-Sense forever seemed inappropriate.
It wasn’t Peter’s ability anymore.
At least, not exclusively.
So after some discussion, Leon and Venom settled on a new name.
Venom Warning.
Leon tested the phrase.
“Not very creative.” Venom objected immediately.
“It’s accurate.” “I didn’t say it wasn’t.” They deliberately used warning rather than sense because Venom already possessed a broader environmental awareness of its own.
Venom could perceive things around them even when there was no danger.
The Venom Warning was different.
It specifically reacted to threats.
The distinction mattered.
Once Leon had a basic understanding of each ability, another issue became obvious.
Having powers wasn’t the same thing as knowing how to fight with them.
Venom had retained experience from both Spider-Man and Deadpool.
That helped.
But combat technique wasn’t some supernatural ability Leon could instantly absorb and master simply because Venom remembered it.
Knowledge and practical skill were different things.
Leon already had a strong foundation.
Ben had made sure he’d received extensive self-defense and combat training, and Leon’s unusual mind allowed him to learn physical techniques far faster than most people.
That would make adapting to his new abilities easier.
But there was one thing intelligence couldn’t provide instantly.
Real combat experience.
You could study every fighting technique ever invented.
You could understand exactly how a punch should be thrown.
You could memorize tactical theory.
None of it perfectly replicated fighting someone who genuinely wanted to kill you.
That kind of judgment had to be built through experience.
Leon understood that.
He wasn’t going to mistake having overwhelming physical power for being an experienced fighter.
Not yet.
For the next several hours, he moved through the city.
This time, Leon remained in control.
He practiced swinging.
Wall-crawling.
Jumping between buildings.
Controlling his enhanced strength.
Processing the flood of sensory information Venom added to his mind.
Even something as simple as swinging between buildings required coordination.
Release too early and he’d lose distance.
Too late and he’d fly in the wrong direction.
Use too much strength and he’d overshoot his target.
Too little and he’d lose momentum.
There were dozens of small adjustments his body needed to learn.
Progress came quickly.
But it wasn’t instant.
By the time Leon decided to return home, the trip took considerably longer than when Venom had been controlling them.
That was fine.
The point wasn’t speed.
It was learning.
Eventually, Leon landed near home and went inside.
The black combat clothing shifted the moment he entered his bedroom.
Fabric flowed across his body.
Seconds later, Venom had transformed into a comfortable set of sleepwear.
Leon looked down at himself.
“That might be your most useful ability.” Venom sounded offended.
“After everything we just did?” “I no longer need to change clothes.” Leon nodded appreciatively.
“Revolutionary.” Venom grumbled something about ungrateful hosts.
Leon sat on the bed.
After finally experiencing what Venom could do, one thought had become impossible to suppress.
Revenge.
Before tonight, the desire had already been there.
Now it felt closer.
Possible.
Whoever had ordered the crash wasn’t untouchable.
Leon had power now.
Enough to hunt them.
Enough to make them answer.
Enough to make them pay.
Venom was equally enthusiastic about the idea.
Perhaps a little too enthusiastic.
Its head rose beside Leon.
“You know…” Leon immediately became suspicious.
“What?” “This revenge mission has another advantage.” Leon waited.
Venom grinned.
“Food.” Leon stared at him.
Venom’s tongue slid across its teeth.
“All those criminals.” Its grin widened.
“All those fresh brains.” Leon slowly closed his eyes.
“And organs.” “Venom.” “What?” “Stop.” “But this is biologically necessary.” Leon opened his eyes again.
“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Venom recoiled.
Leon pointed at it.
“You were stuck inside me for weeks barely absorbing anything.” “Yes, and it was horrible.” “You survived.” “Barely.” “So why did your standards suddenly jump from survival rations to eating people’s heads?” Venom looked offended.
“You’re suggesting I crawl back inside and starve again?” Leon gave it a flat stare.
“I am suggesting that human brains aren’t becoming a regular item on our grocery list.” Venom moved closer.
“I’m not lying.” Its tone became more serious.
“Because of your body’s restrictions, I can’t drain enough energy from you.” Leon waited.
“I’m constantly running below ideal energy levels.” Venom pointed toward its mouth.
“For me, phenethylamine is an excellent nutrient.” Leon frowned.
“And that’s why you’re obsessed with—” “Chocolate.” Venom nodded.
“And brains.” “Of course.” “Human brains contain what I need.” Venom sounded far too cheerful about this fact.
“And chocolate gives me another source.” Leon rubbed his forehead.
Venom thought for a moment.
Then brightened.
“I have an idea.” “That sentence has become terrifying.” “When we’re dealing with enemies…” Venom leaned closer.
“I can dull your senses.” Leon stared at it.
“You won’t taste anything.” No response.
“You won’t feel anything.” Venom became increasingly enthusiastic about its proposal.
“I digest food extremely fast.
Almost immediately.” A tendril snapped dramatically.
“Gone.
Energy.” Leon remained silent.
“You wouldn’t even notice.” Venom nodded firmly.
“I swear on my honor as a symbiote.” Leon slowly looked at it.
“My entire first life passed without me ever eating anything remotely like brain.” Venom waited.
“And now you’re trying to skip me directly to biting people’s heads off.” “When you phrase it that way—” “How else would I phrase it?” Venom wisely stopped talking.
Leon understood the logic.
That didn’t make the idea less disturbing.
If Venom converted the tissue into energy almost immediately, technically there wouldn’t be chunks of anything sitting in Leon’s stomach.
But psychologically?
That distinction didn’t help much.
He sat there for a long time.
Finally, Leon looked at Venom.
“You’re absolutely sure I won’t feel anything?” Venom’s eyes brightened immediately.
“Yes!” It moved closer.
“Absolutely.” “No taste?” “None.” “No sensation?” “Nothing.” “You digest it immediately?” “Practically instantly.” Venom spoke with total confidence.
“I swear.” It puffed itself up as much as a floating symbiote head could.
“On my honor as a symbiote.” Leon narrowed his eyes.
“That oath means nothing.” Venom deflated.
“Excuse me?” “People barely take honor oaths seriously anymore.” Leon leaned closer.
“And what exactly is symbiote honor?” Venom opened its mouth.
Nothing came out.
Leon continued.
“You nearly splattered me across a street an hour ago.” “That was different.” “You’re not exactly inspiring confidence.” Venom looked offended.
Leon smiled faintly.
“If you want me to believe you, swear on something that actually matters.” Venom became suspicious.
“Like what?” Leon didn’t hesitate.
“Chocolate.” Venom froze.
The room became silent.
Leon watched the symbiote process the severity of what had just been demanded.
Venom slowly inhaled.
Then exhaled.
Its jaw tightened.
Several seconds passed.
Finally— “Fine.” The word sounded physically painful.
Leon smiled.
Now that was an oath he could trust.
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