The bus stank as Eddie first got on it, of cheap cologne, stale last cigarettes, and unwashed bodies. He sometimes wished he didn’t have these powers, that some other reporter had taken the assignment to investigate the disappearances at Oscorp and eventually been bitten.
Riding high on having powers he’d enjoyed the limelight, as Spider-Man he saved people, he did good and felt good about it. Sure he made some money from it, barely slept, and in the end, was blamed for something that wasn't his fault. Even with someone like Venom running rampant in the city, he felt good about what he did, until that night.
He had stood, suited up, in a tie and everything as they read out the charges,
‘Accidental death due to gross negligence.’
That's what they called it. Venom was to blame, he launched out the webbing that struck John and sent him tumbling, but as Eddie had sent out his own line they pinned the blame on him too. It didn't matter that John broke protocol, it didn't matter that it was an accident. J.J had pushed for trial, and with the public needing a scapegoat, he got as close to one as he was going to get.
Eddie had enough training in police procedure and had poured over enough legal documents to know the charges were bullshit. Nothing would stick in court, and it was all a publicity stunt. Someone needed to be accountable for the shitshow that was the ETF’s first outing, and Harry Osborn was too rich, and too well connected, to take the blame. It landed squarely on Eddie and Venoms shoulders. Even Flash mysteriously found himself a backer, not that his father wouldn’t have kept him from jail.
Publicly Venom was responsible, no matter the evidence brought Venom would face trial and be convicted. Eddie remembered the conversation, they built your courts, Venom had said, and as his enhanced hearing picked up the conversation, spoken in hushed tones from behind a locked door, he knew he was right.
Even now, as he handed over his ticket to the driver and boarded, he was being punished. Unofficially he was fired for fabricating a story, unofficial J.J. had screamed at him till he was gasping for air, and the mayor and Chief Stacy gave him the papers and a pen,
“Sign son, you get off the hook but with conditions.”
Conditions? First Spider-Man was not allowed to show himself in New York, ever. Any hint of the costumed hero would be an immediate arrest warrant and very public unmasking. Of course, this then extended to Eddie, while he was still allowed within the city the message was clear, come back and you will never know peace.
So, one bus ticket later, all he could afford after J.J and the city withheld his paychecks, he was on his way home. Back to San Francisco, a city he never thought of returning to and never wanted to return to either. Parents were long gone, no family and a string of failed and haunting relationships were all that came to mind when he thought of the city.
“Oh hey, looks like we’re seat buddies huh?” a chipper and somewhat cute looking young woman was sat in the seat next to his, young with a slightly chubby face, didn't look too tall but had a curvy and very full figure, especially around the upper part, Eddie couldn't help but stare as she was sat pushing them up with a rucksack on her lap.
“So, you want the window or the aisle?” he asked her, trying to be polite but wishing that she’d be quiet for the trip back home. The bus made stops but it was a one-way straight route, no change over the direct bus. It would stop, change driver and then keep going for the whole distance, and he would be here with her for a few days.
“Nah I'm good, I like to see the trees,” she said and stared out the window again, the grey terminal lacking in any kind of greenery. “I’m Doreen by the way, nice to meetcha” and she held out a crumb-covered hand, cookies, judging from the brown smudges he really hoped were chocolate.
Taking it and smiling, “Eddie.”
Eddie stowed his luggage above him and then sat back down, trying to get comfy on the budget coach. He sighed, thinking that this would be a long trip.
~
Aaron wiped the head of his boss, Wilson didn’t look so good these days, but given the amount of formula he’d injected to fight Venom, he wasn’t surprised.
He knew nothing of formula, other than the one he’d taken, but he did know loyalty. He’d worked for Wilson Fisk for over a decade and he’d never let him down. He needed money for his nephew's operation, done, he needed some muscles to move his sister, done. Wilson had treated him right and now it was time to return that favour.
Aaron watched as the skin on Wilson's face rippled and then calmed down. Two eyes opened and stared at him, his wolf howled that a predator had awoken and he should run.
“How long?” Fisk rumbled,
“Few days, not more, you good boss?” Aaron replied, handing Fisk a glass of water, it wasn't cold but right now it was all he had.
Fisk drank the water like it was the greatest thing on Earth. “I'm good, finally feel like me again,” and as he crushed the glass in his hands the shards barely left a mark let alone drew blood.
“Venom?” he asked
“Uh, no, after trashing us he went after Osborn, police, and feds are swarming the building, I got you out and grabbed the bug out bags but no sir, sorry.”
Fisk clapped Aaron on the shoulder, “we’re alive, that's all that matters,” and standing he stretched. “Feels good though huh,” and he went through a series of Kata, designed to stretch and awaken tired and sore muscles. “Stronger, faster, better eyesight, heart, probably stamina too, you?”
Aaron nodded, “I also have faster healing and uh,” and holding up a hand he focuses and his fingernails sharpened and lengthened, as did his teeth.
“Fangs and claws, you’re eyes are yellow now too,”
“Yup, can't see a lot of colours but I can see pretty well in the dark like this. But uh, what's next boss? I mean, New Yorks a bust.”
“One thing at a time Aaron. First, food and then get my car, head to the parking garage on 8th, there is an RV parked there. I've always got a plan, always”
Aaron nodded and headed out, food first, then driving.
Fisk sighed, he liked New York, it was dirty, crooked and money was easy but now, if it was a bust it was a bust. He wasn't going to sink time and money into saving a dying business. It was time for a clean slate and as he stared at a map on the wall he traced a finger in a straight line to the other side of the map. San Francisco, sure, why not?
~
Cindy stared at her door. It had been webbed shut by something and she shook her head in despair. Since high school had finished her life had gone down tremendously. Once one of the top queen bees, she commanded respect not only as a very beautiful and social young woman but as a highly intelligent and creative artist as well. A few words in Flash’s ear had made her rival's life hell but he still came out on top, well, right until the end of their last term.
Staring at her door she wanted to cry. Once out of school things began to fall apart. No one cared if she was talented or beautiful when it came to the rent, no one cared about that when she couldn't get a scholarship and couldn't afford college. No one cared that working in a crappy diner meant living in the crappiest palace she could find and the landlord, some creep with a combover, even grabbed her ass once.
As she tried to pull on the webbing surrounding the door she wanted to scream. Nothing had gone right since high school, and she hated this town more and more. She’d thought about visiting Flash, but after the accident in the diner, she put that idea away. She’d been walking down a corridor when she heard him screaming at MJ and quickly turned and walked away, her life was crappy enough without an abusive boyfriend to make it worse.
To add insult to injury, she'd been snapping a selfie with Spider-Man when a drone sprayed the crowd with pepper spray, making her miss work, then as Venom fought some asshole she'd been washed down the street, and a final insult as she walked home one night, tired and depressed from a shift at the diner, the cops swarmed the building she was walking past, and Venom and Spider-Man fought. She narrowly escaped when that Agent Webb asshole came flying over the top of a roof down on where she was hiding. The fright made her so sick, once more she'd missed work and was almost fired. It wasn't her fault she'd gotten sick, it was those costumed assholes.
The only good thing right now was the ticket she held in her hand. Scratching off a lotto ticket she’d won $200,000 and had run home to pack and move out of this crap hole, only to find some asshole had used fake spider-webs over her front door.
“Hey, you gotta pay for that,” the landlord shouted as he saw the mess, and as he turned Cindy gave him the finger. Pay my ass, she thought there was nothing inside, nothing she cared about, even her high school diploma was junk. No one cared unless you had the right piece of paper and she didn't, so screw it, she had money she had looks and brains. As she ran a hand over the webbing she pulled back in surprise, she’d snagged her finger on something and it was bleeding.
For a moment it looked like a black splinter was stuck under her skin but as she pressed the cut it seemed to vanish, and it closed and healed. Shrugging after finding no mark or blood anywhere, she must have imagined it, a combination of joy and anger at the stupid shit city, and the joy of finally being free of it.
As she stood at the bus terminal, Cindy had no idea where she was going. The nearest bus that left in 5 minutes was to San Francisco. She shrugged, “sure, why not,” as she went to buy her ticket.
~
All across the globe, similar scenes were playing out, a sudden call, an urge to visit a city. Possessions were sold, houses mortgaged, all to buy a ticket to San Francisco. Even in the elusive and reclusive country of Wakanda, a Prince and his King felt the call.
“Father, Do you feel it?” Prince T'Challa asked his father,
“I do my son, we must go and prepare for the tournament.” and the elderly man stood from his throne. No longer the fit and proud warrior, he knew that this would be his last, even if he survived he was no longer physically fit enough to wear the mantle of Black Panther anymore. His son would be the next King, and his son would be the next Black Panther.
As T’Chaka stared into the throne room of his palace, he hoped that once more the Black Panther would be triumphant, its power keeping Wakanda at peace for centuries now. If one of the other animal tribes gained their totem's blessing, there could be civil war. A war he doesn't know if Wakanda or worse, the world, would survive.
~
Hearing the call another son spoke to his father, one who couldn't hear him but it still brought him comfort.
“You know pops, I did it, I heard the call and I know where I'm going.” The young man, undressed and showed his chest and arms covered in ritual scars, each one dotted on his dark brown skin.
“I’ll get revenge for you pops, those fuckers’ll never know what hit them.” and as he grabbed a black shirt from the clean pile next to him Erik Stevens finally knew how to get revenge against the country that scorned and murdered his father.
~
Turning over to face the aisle Eddie was tired and as the sunset, Doreen had the decency to pull the shade down, she didn't have the decency to shut up and he was sure she was feeding a rat or something in her backpack.
As he drifted off he dreamed of Africa, of plains, and wars, ones were huge armies of creatures, the land was thick with hooves and claws, the air cried out with the screeches and calls of the winged, the seas boiled and bubble as the fish and crustaceans writhed in their anger.
War was coming, a war he dreamed of, and a war he would fight in.
~
After an exhaustive journey, Eddie had finally made it home and as he got off the bus the very bubbly Doreen waved at him and then vanished. Thank god, he thought to himself. The young woman had been way too much for him to bear cross country but now she was gone he was free.
A hotel had to do for now, and Eddie made his way across town to the one he knew the best, The Emerald Palace. He often drank here as a young man, before things went south and he ended up in New York but for some reason, he always came back here.
It wasn’t until he saw the sign on the outside of the building that he paused, ‘African Dream’ was printed on a poster, and as he frowned at the images he realized it was the scene he had dreamt of on the bus. Shaking his head, Nah, it was just a coincidence. He hoisted the single tote bag he had and headed inside to get a room.
The rooms were still cheap which Eddie appreciated but a tall incredibly beautiful African woman handed him a leaflet for the show.
“Do you wish to see the sights of Africa?” she asked him in a thick accent and as he stared at her he felt *something*. He couldn't put his finger on it, there was just *something* about her, something that wanted him to agree, wanted him to follow her to the ends of the earth and like a lovestruck idiot, he nodded his head.
“Good.” she said, giving him a wide smile, “then follow me, and your dreams may come true, my brave warrior.”
Eddie followed her through the lobby of the hotel and without even realising it handed over his tote bag to another woman, he barely registered her presence before she was away, with both his bag and his room key.
“In here, you will find the rest of them waiting, I believe you are the last,” and pushing open the door she held it open for him and he nodded and entered.
He sighed as he came back to his senses, it was a scam. Two rows of chairs sat in front of a hastily built stage, covered in a thick shag carpet, a bright red colour. Behind the stage, was a huge white screen and a projector sat in the middle of the two rows of chairs.
Eddie shook his head, of course, get a beautiful woman, spray her with some nice smelling perfume, and bam, get the stupid suckers into the room. He took a guess and as he turned the woman smiled but shook her head. “After. You may leave after,'' and gently pushed him into the room.
That surprised Eddie, Venom might have smacked him around like he was a kid but even after training with Flash, he knew he was much stronger than a normal person. This woman just pushed him and back he went, oh shit, Feds, was all he could think, no wonder he followed so easily, it was probably some mind control bullshit and now he was about to get whacked.
“Good to see you, uh Mr?” a wide armed smiling African man said, his accent the same as the women behind him. He was tall and handsome, with a wide smile and a neat haircut, his face chiselled and with a neatly trimmed beard. While Eddie looked at him he realised his bearing was all wrong, this guy isn't a salesman he thought to himself, he's a warrior
“I don't want a timeshare, I don't want a boat or a condo or a holiday, so, no. No names, just kill me or whatever or let me go. I don't want to fight, I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to be left alone,” Eddie said, shaking his head.
“Well, then we do this the more difficult way. Mr Brock, we already know who you are, the same way we know who Mr Fisk and Mr Davis are. And Mr Wilson and Ms Moon, and Mr Gargan, but we are not here to fight.” and the man held up a vial of pale blue liquid.
“Do you recognise this?” he asked and Eddie was shocked, it was formula. He’d never seen it as a liquid as the one he’d taken was a spider bite, but he’d read the reports.
“It is a poor effort to reproduce this,” and the man pulled out another vial, this one was a deep purple colour and it sparkled and shone in the light.
“You are not here to fight Mr Brock, we are here to fix a mistake that was done to you, to all of you.” and he motioned to the group of people that were standing off to one side, helping themselves to what looked like a very nice buffet lunch.
“Please, get some food and we can explain, and then, yes, if you wish, you may leave. Oh, and my name is T’Challa, it is a pleasure to meet you Spider-Man”
Eddie snorted. “Didn't you hear, Spider-Man is dead.” and he shook his head as he made his way over to the long catering tables.
A group of people had already gathered at the tables, including one of the largest men Eddie had ever seen. Standing at over 7ft tall whoever the giant was eating a small selection of pastries and drinking a ludicrously small cup of coffee. His companion, a wary-looking African man was well dressed and well mannered, his own plate was to one side and he only took small bites. Someone used to action he bet and was only eating to stop himself from standing out.
Eddie grabbed burgers and a selection of pizza slices. If they were paying, he was eating, and had no care about who was watching or who was ready to fight. Food was food, and this was a lavish spread for what seemed like only eight people.
“Please, continue, I will explain. First, I am sorry we have kept you here, but what we are going to tell you is, well, at the moment a secret, in the coming weeks the world will change and we need to be sure that you are all prepared,” T’Challa explained, sitting at a table himself. One of the tribally dressed women placed a plate with what smelled like steak on it in front of him and he cut into it as he spoke.
“During the war, your second I believe, a promising young scientist was on sabbatical where he discovered a flower, growing in the wilds of Africa. He noticed that the animals that ate this flower were bigger and more resilient than the rest and taking some home began to try and duplicate it.” Another bald woman poured a deep red liquid into a glass next to him and he took a sip, smiling, “for those of you who know their history, that was the same formula used to create Captain America,” and as he waved a fork at the group, “and the same one running through your veins, giving you all your powers.”
The bodyguard of the giant stood and reached into his jacket, but T’Challa shook his head,
“You do not need that, we are not here for your powers, Mr Davis, we are here to fix them.” and T’Challa lay down his fork and flicked open a folder next to him,
“Oscorp began researching the formula. Side effects include random mutation, severe neurological and physiological degradation, and in some cases, death.” T’challa read and then closed the file.
“While it was not our intention, it seems that we must still act. Each of you can, and may become a monster, Mr Brock, I believe you are well aware of this are you not, having fought him, and you two, Mr Fisk, Mr Davis. You have seen the results of the formula is left untreated.” T’Challa cut a piece of steak and chewed it slowly as he watched the group.
“Venom,” was all Fisk said and Eddie stared at him. He’d been kept in detainment and had no idea what had been going on in the outside world but it seemed that Venom had claimed more lives than just his.
“Quite Correct Mr Fisk, The individual known as Venom as the result of a spider-bite, not quite as potent as yourself Mr Brock but still, enough to cause the mutation into the creature you are familiar with.”
“Some stupid kid gets bit and now you’re swooping to clean up the mess?” Another thin black man asked. Eddie noticed his stance hid a combat veteran, his piercing stare seemed to penetrate through him,
“This is not altruism Mr Wilson, the formula is dangerous and we wish to simply make amends” T’Challa replied,
“No,“ Sam said, shaking his head, “I don't buy it. You're Prince T’Challa, son of T'Chaka, King of Wakanda. You don't have this tech, not for this, not to do this.”
“Wakanda is more advanced than you think Mr Wilson, and it is time to come out from behind the curtain.” T'Challa had argued with his father over this, pleaded that with Iron Man and Venom becoming more globally known that hiding was no longer something Wakanda could afford and once the international community learned of the formula's origin, they would become a target.
“But right now, that is not important. What is important are the people here today. It requires a story, a long one, unfortunately, but to explain everything they often are, Please.” and one of the Dora Milaje stepped forwards and placed a small circular device on the table next to T’Challa and waved her hand over it.
“Billions of years ago….”
In the beginning, the universe was a giant ball of hot energy, condensing down into what we know today, as it burst into life the energy formed and coagulated into 6 stones. Power, mind, reality, space, time, and finally soul.
With the energy from these six stones swirling around the new universe life began. The first life, the avatars of the stones, grew and gained consciousness, striding across the newly formed universe as giants, but even with their small number, the Celestials knew jealousy. One of their kind, shunned and avoided, sat in his realm, surrounded by the darkness. As his brothers and sisters played and created he was pushed back, further and further into his dimension of nothing.
In his anger he grabbed and shaped the void, creating a hunger, a creature so foul it assimilated, copied, and eventually devoured its host, and in his madness, he smiled.
As he sent out this race, his Klyntar, to destroy what his brothers had made they gathered to face him, to accuse him of his crimes and see him brought to justice. As they fought, unwilling to back down, they fell one by one to the null and his creatures of darkness. All but two.
In the final battle, one of the Celestials, the Searcher, used the 6 stones to forge a weapon, made from the bones of his fallen family, and with it struck the Null and left his severed head floating in the universe as a reminder. That even gods may die.
Only one survived, hiding away in a place no one could find him, forever travelling among the stars.
As the last of the gods lay dying, his lifeblood seeping into the barren, giant world he gathered together all the stones, using each one in turn to seed the fledgling universe with life. Spreading its energy and his own and sending them across the universe. Where the energy was most concentrated it grew, and as before became avatars of the stones, a conscious that guided and nurtured the life around them.
As these forms grew and evolved they landed on a small green and lush world, taking on the forms of the plants and animals that the primitive tribes worshipped.
As the hologram ended the group looked on stunned,
“Wait? You’re saying we’re fuckin gods?” one older man asked as the group turned and stared at him.
T’Challa shook his head while smiling,
“No Mr Toombs, we are not gods. We are their avatars, their champions if you will. Each of you has an animal symbol yes? Mine is the black panther, Mr Toombs, the vulture. Mr Brock, a spider, and each of you is the same. An animal or creature you feel a kinship with, drawn to, and ultimately represents your power.”
The older man tutted, “I'm a fuckin god, you might not be, but me, yeah I am,” and as he shook his head. “But uh, why should I care, right, I ain't a catholic or a book basher, but gods an’ shit? Who fuckin cares right?”
"Mr Toombs, you may not care about them but they chose you, they care about you. Do you wish to see a war in which one of these beings rises to power over the others? A war where the very planet rises up against us, animals with the same powers that we possess and with the same intellect you claim to have?” T’Challa spoke quietly to the scowling man, sat with his arms crossed, shaking his head
“Gods don't scare me, nothing scares me.”
“They should, do you think that flying and being strong are the limits to what they can do? What if you could throw lightning, or control the weather Mr Toombs, the gods may be quiet right now but if they feel they were being slighted or ignored, well, we do not wish to arouse their ire.”
“So what? We gotta play some stupid game and get a nice pat on the head? Nah, fuck that shit, I ain't nobodies toy.”
T’Challa motioned to a Dora nearby who presented Toombs with a case, inside was a steel bar. “Go ahead, feel it”
Adrian shrugged and took the bar, waved it about for a few moments and then put it back in the case, “so?”
As the woman took the case back, she smiled, lifted the bar and bent it into an L.
“and my personal guard are not blessed as we are. If we are Kings and Queens to the Gods they, sadly, are Pawns. Strong, fast but not chosen. If serving willingly isn't on the cards Mr Toombs, then many offer pure power, I do not think you are the man to say no to that, no one here is. A war is coming,” T'Challa looked around the room, “we have been warned and given a choice, fight or perish. If you wish to remain as you are then we will conduct the first ritual and then you may leave, the second will only be for those willing to embrace their true natures.” T’Challa paused, but no one said anything or moved to leave,
“While some of you are just avatars, others, including myself have been exposed to a drug, I can only call it that for now, but you, we, are more, and we need to fix that. We are aware that the drug being developed by Oscorp, and by Howard Stark is not, how shall I put it-” but it was Aaron that interrupted him,
“It's fucking poison, and if you can fix me, fix us,“ and he motioned to the larger man, “then go right ahead, I ain't living like a freak.”
“Yes Mr Davis, the transformation can be quite painful I imagine. But that is your gift, it was not the serum that caused that but your patron and you Mr Fisk, the Great Ape’s mark is all over you. Your gifts are not to be removed but to be cleansed. Even you Mr Brock, I imagine the events of New York have left quite a mark on you, and you too Ms Moon, even if you are unaware of what you are.”
“Uh, me?” Cindy said pointing to herself, “I'm not, I'm not anything like you guys. Spider gods or whatever, nope just a student.” and as she spoke, T’Challa laughed and shook his head,
“Oh, among us you are the most in need of healing Ms Moon. You are host to both the spider and the great devourer. You must pick one or both halves will war and fight. Your powers will be great, greater than anyone else's but they will come at a cost. You will hunger, you will devour, and you will kill. You will wage war on yourself and your desires, losing to both.” T’Challa nodded his head, “but we can save you, we can let you choose who you really are, the spider or the monster.”
Cindy just sat back, staring at the plate of pizza in front of her. Since Oscorp life had gone downhill for her and now, now I'm a monster, she thought to herself. ”No, this is bullshit, I don't believe you, Spider-Man, really, Eddie Brock, hack journalist is Spider-Man? and you, you're some kind of wolfman? So what, baldie here is a half-giant and the old guy is a vulture? This is bullshit, some scheme, I’m leaving and you can't stop me.” Cindy grabbed her bag and stood to leave, but two imposing women with what she hoped were prop spears blocked the door.
“I'm afraid Ms Moon that it is real, and it seems that for some reason your powers are dormant, but, if one of you would be so kind as to demonstrate your powers, I think Ms Moon might calm down.”
Eddie sighed, “hack journalist huh?" but spying Cindy's bag, shot out a web line and tried to pull it towards himself, as she grabbed the bag.
“No, mine,” she hissed and black flowed over her, covering her from head to foot. As she stood frozen the black faded to grey and white web design covered her from head to foot, her face obscured by a black half-mask, covering her mouth with spilt apart in a rictus grin, filled with razor-sharp teeth.
“We are Silk, and you dare to touch us.” the newly formed symbiote hissed at the group which had recoiled in horror. Only Eddie, Aaron, and Fisk stayed sat, Aaron shrugged and went back to eating his pizza while Eddie just sighed, Cindy grabbed hold of her bag, and as she pulled, Eddie just let go of the web.
“Really? Two are bad enough, but now you too?” he shook his head and then looked over to T'Challa, “and you, you knew this would happen?” and T'Challa shrugged.
“We only knew her totems, not her powers. Our meetings with our patrons are not like Wikipedia, Mr Brock. They tell us what we need to know and that is all.” T'Challa motioned to the two Dora Milaje guardians at the door.
“Miss Silk, you are in no danger here, please, eat, and we can continue. No one is your enemy, even if past differences are difficult to overcome.”
Silk hissed and nodded at Eddie, “We know the Spider-Man, we trust him but you will not touch us again,” and as her symbskin retracted, Cindy shook and it reformed as the clothes she had been wearing. “That, was fucking weird, what the hell did you do to me?” she yelled at T'Challa. “The food? Did you drug the food?” and the Milaje lowered their spears
“Please, calm down Ms Moon and no, the food is untouched. We received word the great devoured was on Earth and our agents discovered it was Oscorp, we know you were bitten, and then much later a friend of yours, Flash Thompson, became an Agent Webb. He infected you, Ms Moon, we do not know how or when but we received word that the alien you call Webb had spawned once more, and I am sorry, we can remove it if you wish but the process is painful and may cause you harm. Our dealings have shown us that if you can reason with the creature then you will be whole and more for it, but you must seek it out, and you must do it before it loses itself to its hunger.”
“That sounds like your talking out your ass and know shit all about what's happening,” and as Cindy said that, one of the Dora turned her head and coughed to cover a small laugh,
“We might not have dealt with the creature directly Ms Moon, but our records have mention of them, please trust us,” and Cindy sighed and sat down with the group,
“And you,” she said motioning to Eddie. “Why do I suddenly know a shit load of stuff about you?”
Eddie shook his head, “you know, I'm not even gonna ask,” and he took a breath before taking another bite of the pizza in front of him. Cindy huffed at his answer and crossed her arms while the rest of the group stared at her. Superpowers yes, but strange slime monsters were something none of them had ever heard of.
“Now that the excitement is over with, and you have all eaten, it is time for the trials to begin.” T'Challa motioned and several Dora Milaje approached,
“First, everyone will get a vial to drink, and to show you our good faith, I will go first. Once the serum takes hold, you will, well, I cannot say what you will experience as it will be personal and for you to explore and discover.”
Each Dora Milaje, dressed in the ceremonial battle armour of the ancient order carried a silver box, and as they undid the clasps, each box contained a small vial of the same purple liquid.
A ballet of movers and furniture sprang forth, and soon there were ten comfortable chairs, each with a small table next to it.
“Ah, Mr Fisk, sorry but we are waiting,” and soon enough a much larger chair came in, lifted by two muscular women, and T'Challa nodded as he grunted in approval.
"You will find name plated on each table, please, sit and enjoy, and may the gods be with you.”
The group all looked hesitant, while this all seemed like a lot of crap they also knew that powers, and more importantly, their powers had come from somewhere. Adding in the very intimidating warriors that were patrolling the function suite they figured that they really didn't have any choice in the matter.
“Screw it,'' Eddie sighed, and after sitting down the warrior woman by his side handed him a small glass with the thick purple liquid in it, at least this time it's my choice, he thought and drank the whole thing in one swig.
T'Challa frowned. He had offered to show in good faith the potion was safe but and he sighed, Americans.
After sitting for a few moments Eddie felt his eyes getting heavy and after shuffling for a few moments found himself drifting off to sleep.
“Now we have one, you may check to make sure he is still alive if you wish, he is simply visiting the spirit realm, to see the source of his power, to us, he is asleep.” and as if on cue Eddie started to snore, Cindy, hearing this covered her mouth and quietly chuckled to herself,
“Well, if sleeping beauty here gets nap after a good meal then why the hell not,” said the man who T'Challa had identified as Toombs, taking off his thick fur-lined jacket he made himself comfortable. “You know, If I wasn't married, maybe you and I could get a drink sometime eh?” he winked at the Dora Milaje as she handed him the glass. “Bottoms up,” and, like Eddie, swallowed the drink in one mouthful. “Taste like ass though,” he said and, after he closed his eyes and relaxed, was soon asleep.
One by one the rest, seeing the sleeping participants, all made themselves comfortable and once the room was completely silent, barring the snoring of a few T'Challa motioned over to the Dora,
“Prepare my own chair, I must seek the counsel of the Panther,” and with that, he was seated and took his own vial.
He was unimpressed so far with the group sat before him, the Purple Heart Flower ritual was sacred and now it had been reduced to nap time with these, people. After reviewing the files on several of them he had been tempted to disobey, not just his father but the Panther, and have four of them killed as they slept. However, he knew the consequences of such actions would tear Wakanda apart. As he made himself comfortable, he drank the mixture and as it filled him with power, he slowly drifted into sleep and journeyed to the ancestral plane.
Once the room was sleeping the remaining Dora Milaje looked at one another, “and now we wait'' as worried looks spread across their faces.
~
Eddie floated in the dark, hearing nothing, feeling nothing. It was peaceful but as the sounds of his own heartbeat thundered in his chest he began to panic a little.
Wasn’t this supposed to be a great spiritual journey? He thought. Is my spirit empty? am I empty?
Sure, he was in a daze after watching John die, after fighting Venom and realising that his powers were shit compared to what was out there. Venom took him, John, and Flash apart like they were little kids, but worse than that was the woman, Huntress she called herself. She tore into him like it was nothing, like he was nothing, and that stung the most.
We are Huntress and we never surrender to prey, she had taunted him
Was he prey? Was all this for nothing?
He ducked under her blow, once more on the rooftop, and as he ducked she spun and brought a foot into his face, spinning the world for him and making him fly across the rooftop. He shot out a web and pulled himself back out of her reach but she was too fast, too well trained, and as blow after blow connected he felt it.
Fear
He was prey
He was her prey
He watched her toy with him, use feints and traps to goad him into her strikes, perfect in her movements, and if he was honest he lost himself watching her. She was graceful and deadly, a huntress. Watching her strike blow after blow was like watching a panther or lioness hunt its prey and in her deadly ballet, he fell in love.
Not the physical love of a man for a woman, no, the love of her skill, the love of her brutality, her passion to make sure that blood was spilt and it wasn't hers. He saw the passion, the dedication to her art and he wished that it was his.
As he watched over and over the pair fight he saw his mistakes, his arrogance, and at once began to formulate how to fix them, he wasn't slow, no slower than her. He wasn't weak, no weaker than her, he was a child to her adult he was a newborn trying to walk while his teacher ran and skipped.
That is not our way he heard the voice say
The way of the spider is your way, not hers
As he watched over and over he saw the movements he made a change, no longer falling for the feints he made his own, feeling her movements his senses sharpened and he began to anticipate the strikes, he began to see her form change and he also began to change.
As they fought and sparred the world around him changed and he saw her, the spider, each limb darting and weaving its web around him, he saw each of its limbs as an extension of itself, not a limb to be thrown out but a weapon to be used, each part of him watched each part of her and in doing so he began to copy, he began to learn and he began to understand.
He was only prey if he allowed himself to be prey.
~
Cindy was back at fucking Oscorp, watching that shit Parker puke over himself. She recoiled in disgust and felt the sting on the back of her neck. Feeling nothing she felt the world spin and as she stumbled to the toilets she watched her vision swim in the mirror, pale and sweaty she washed her face before a woman, some small skinny freaky looking beehive chick with stupid fucking rimmed glassed talked to her. Get the fuck away freak, she thought as her legs went weak, but she’d had enough of this bullshit place. Pushing past the woman, she headed to the exit and into a cab, back home, back where she was safe.
In bed, her eyes closed but when she opened them she was in the square, Spiderman chasing some drone thing as it blared a warning at them, no way, she thought, NYPD won't fire on civilians, but as she leaned in and snapped a pic with Spider-Man, she felt a small tingle go through her as she touched him, gross, she thought, no way I'm crushing on the guy, but her eyes did flick down to his crotch, the suit was skin tight and it showed. As she laughed to herself and pulled a face in the selfie, the warning went off once more and the air was filled with pepper spray. Screams and shouts filled the area and everyone scattered, she didn't understand why though, it was just spicy, fucking losers, she thought as she watched Spider-Man pull two fire hydrants from the ground, so fucking cool though, and as she snapped more pics, she wondered if he was handsome under the costume.
As she lay in bed, her fingers stroking herself, she thought of the handsome man under the mask, unknown he pounded her, and as she peaked she sighed, wish some handsome rich man would save me from this fucking hell.
At the diner, she waited tables, collected tips, and gritted her teeth in the staff break room. Being young and attractive was a blessing when you waitressed but sometimes it was also a curse. Sure, places preached tolerance, oh, any inappropriate touching will get you barred but it didn't happen. She still got her ass grabbed and the shitty diners who fucking complained when she didn't smile and thank them for their generosity got comped. God forbid she actually had feelings of her own and wasn't some piece of ass for them.
As she walked home she heard the sirens and as the vans screeched to a halt she saw two large men leap out of the van and shoot strings up into the building tops. Glancing around her, she hid behind the trash cans, wanting to watch the action she hid, crouched low and staring up, of course, at this angle she had no chance to see anything but she could hear them,
“She-Venom, you know how insulting that is?” she heard. “We are Huntress and we never surrender to prey,” and as Cindy heard Spider-Man getting the shit kicked out of him she smiled, no, that was a badass, not some guy in a suit, a badass woman, taking no shit.
She was brought out of her musing as she heard the cry, and Agent Web, Flash fucking Thompson of all people, screamed as he headed towards to ground, both arms sending out those white ropes and as he caught himself, barely inches from the ground and only a few meters away from her she saw the black, saw the small, almost invisible droplet of black water as it flew from his wrist and headed right for her and in that instant, it touched and they became one.
“Hehe, you sure this’ll work?” Asked a rather scruffy, short, and considerably ugly man asked.
“If it wouldn't, we wouldn't be doing it,” answered Erik and he shook his head.
He needed Klaue but right now, after spending not just a drive to San Francisco but a plane trip with him as well, the man was grating on him. To call him rude would be an understatement, as the man seemed to focus on whatever thing he felt would annoy the most, and then go on and on about it, and if there was nothing he would sing, off-key, whatever song was on the radio. When Erik turned that off Klaue simply pulled out an mp3 player and began to sing along with that. If he didn't need him, Klaue would be buried along a stretch of freeway where no one would ever find the body.
As Klaue finished fiddling with the lock the steel-plated door swung open, “see, easy as cake,” he said and Erik shook his head.
“Its pie moron, easy as pie,”
“Why is pie easier than cake? Cake, you just chuck everything in a bowl and mix it. Pie needs pastry, and filling, much harder,” and as Klaue continued, Erik shook his head, wishing he had killed the man.
~
Mac Gargan had stayed quiet during the presentation, fuckin gods my ass, he thought to himself, but even after drinking the liquid, he slept like the rest.
Finding himself in a strange desert-like place he grinned as he scurried along the rocks, stinging and clacking his pincers, oh, I like this, the Scorpion thought to himself, as it killed anything it could find.
~
Sam Wilson flew like he never flew before, feeling the wind beneath real wings this time. Unlike his harness, he could feel each feather as he glided, swooped, and hunted. New ways of seeing the world sprang into his mind, and his call echoed around the seaside cliffs as the Falcon spread its wings.
~
Scott Lang stood seeing the world as he normally did, small. He was used to this, weeks spent with Hank and Hope taught him to see the world like an ant and as the hive swarmed he knew what he needed to do, and Ant-Man marched on with his soldiers. He heard the call to war and with his army, he would fight.
~
Adrian Toombs snorted, he was used to this, used to waiting and scavenging. Always been a Vulture, he thought. Even if Alexsi, the rotten bastard, got the job he wanted and he was relegated to San fuckin Fransico he didn’t care, he laughed when he heard Alexsi got killed, now it was his time, the Vulture always got its prey, it was just patience and picking the bones clean.
~
Aaron howled at the night sky. A full moon hung like a beacon calling to him, calling to his blood, and as he embraced the inner wolf, he changed once more. Agony ripped through him as his body tore at itself, muscles bulged and expanded, this change was different though, no longer the muscle-bound werewolf he was now a full wolf. On all fours he howled at the moon, calling to his pack, calling to his alpha. A wolf always travelled with a group, the lone wolf saying a stupid fallacy. Wolves hunted in packs, cared and tended each other, and never, ever hunted alone. He knew his boss was nearby, he could sense him, even now through their bond. He was pack and even after changing, Aaron knew loyalty. Not obedience, that shit was for dogs, and Aaron was a wolf. Tasting the night air, hearing the howl of his pack mates, Aaron knew they would hunt, and they would taste blood
~
Wilson Fisk, no, not Fisk anymore, the hulking gorilla deserved to be called Silverback, and the thick grey streak down the huge monstrous back of the creature was a testament to that. As he strode through the thick jungle he felt the creatures bow and part for him. He was king of this jungle, he was ruler and anything that stood in his way would be crushed.
In New York he tasted defeat, his weakness let Venom pummel him to mush, his weakness left him open to mistakes and stupidity. No more and as he reached the top of the cliffs in front of him he stood, high on two legs and thumped his chest, roaring into the night,
Hear! Creatures of the forest, creatures of the night, and creatures of the sky. Hear, for your king has arrived. Silverback, ruler of the world, strongest of them all.
Those who listened closely though would hear, buried within the roar a sadness, a name being echoed across the tundra and into the heart of every creature. A pain echoed, Vanessa, and those who knew her would feel it and understand. But it was an ending, an epitaph for his lost love. No longer would he allow such things to hold him back, Venom exploited a weakness. He had been stupid and lost everything. Now was the time to rebuilt, move on, and respect the past but ultimately ignore it.
As the roar echoed, it was joined by the howl of a wolf, the screech of a vulture, and the hissing of a scorpion.
For they were all the chosen, and while each had their own champion, these four would hunt, these four would kill. These four would claim the world as their own.
~
Cindy watched as the black droplet splashed against her skin and then vanished, absorbed into her body. As she watched the scene her shadow stretched and became a thick black thing in front of her,
“So, Silk yeah?” and the creature hissed,
We hide, we hide from the scary man and from the Venom, please, we behave, we stay hidden, we stay quiet.
“So that's why I don't have these powers yeah? cause of you?” and the creature hissed one more,
We hide, we keep you safe, we keep you from hurting, we keep you from discovering us and the spider.
“So I do have powers?” and the creature hissed in agreement,
Yes, the one called brock, the one called Webb and the one called Venom, you are like them, we are like them,
“Show me” and Cindy cried out in pain as the symbiote released its control on her. Her muscles spasmed and she collapsed onto the ground, wracked with sudden and excruciating agony. Sounds, light, and each nerve in her body screamed and she screamed with it. Panting and aching she pulled herself onto her knees, “not at once you fucking stupid shit,” she cursed as she felt her heart hammering in her chest, and taking deep breathes she willed it to calm down,
“Don't fucking do that again, shit. Now, a little at a time,” and the creature hissed and flowed towards her.
As it covered her she felt their connection, her muscles tightened and the pain faded, replaced by an indescribable feeling of power.
“Now that's more like it, uh Silk?” and the creatures stirred,
We chose the name, soft and desirable, strong and unbreakable, we are Silk, you are the Cindy, we are one
“Yeah, I got that, so the memories? I mean, how come I know about Flash bullying Parker, I mean, I wasn't there, so why do I feel like shit over it?”
We learn by bonding, we teach by splitting, you know as Webb knows, you know what Venom knows.
Cindy shook her head, great, just great.
It is, we are happy we no longer have to hide.
Wait, you can read my mind?
Yes, as can all of us, the Venom is simply too stupid to realise.
Cindy laughed, Peter? Stupid, yeah I guess, I mean, Gwen practically drooled on him for a year before he realised, so now what? I mean, Spider-Girl or whatever the hell I am plus you, T’Challa said you were a devourer and I needed to choose.
No, the panther is wrong, we are free, we were once a weapon, to kill and consume but we are free, as are you, we will hurt but if you wish us gone we will leave.
Gone? And leaving hurts you?
Yes, we need a host to survive, you are our host and we would be lesser for leaving, if we found no other, we would die.
Nah, I kinda like the idea of powers,
Cindy had always been at the top and now, now she could show everyone that Silk and her amazing abilities deserved to be there.
~
"See, I told you this would be easy," Klaue said as the last of the Dora slipped down the wall. They had flooded the hotel's sprinkler system with a nerve agent and then simply set the fire system off. As the neurotoxin-laced waters spread into each of the rooms anyone caught under the spray was first paralysed and then died. With a little tinkering, only the systems in the corridors and the halls were set off, the rooms were left alone.
Erik shook his head as he approached the room they were after, he didn't care about the loss of life, just this one room. Placing a charge against the lock it puffed with smoke and the lock and door handle fell off.
As the large bald woman thrust her spear through the door, Erik ducked back and fired a pistol five times through the door. Hearing the body thud. he motioned to Klaue who, as Erik took a step back keeping his pistol raised, pushed the door open with one hand.
As he advanced into the room he flipped the body over and fired another round into the head of the woman. His real target, however, was asleep on the bed, “do it," was all he said and Klaue giggled with glee as he moved over and taking a syringe from his overcoat bit off its protective cap and stabbed it into the chest of the lavishly dressed man old man.
Klaue paced at the bottom of the bed while Erik sat with the pistol in his lap, running a hand over his face, waiting.
Soon the old man stirred and stared at the pair, and then in great sadness at the body on the floor. “You dare?" and as he attempted to rise, Erik shook his head and tapped his hand with the pistol.
“Yeah, I dare, you don't remember me T’Chaka, but me, oh I remember you. See, 15 years ago you forget me, not my pop though, no, I don't think you’d forget him.”
The old man's eyes went wide, “he had a son?”
"Oh yeah, one who watched you murder him for what? Some stupid metal, some heist gone wrong. You know, I grew up hearing about this great nation, Wakanda," Erik said, his words heavy, “and in class, I hear all these things, slavery, debt nations, and famines and I wonder, what the fuck did Wakanda do to help? Why did the most powerful nation on Earth sit back and watch? You know I got my lip bust a few times for asking about that, didn't know better, taught me to be tough though."
“We had to, there-” T’Chaka began but Erik shook his head,
“Nah, that a child's way of lookin at it. See, I grew up and I read, I learned, yeah, human history is full of shit like that, but I get it. Once I started I got it. Britain, Germany, America, Russia. They would have drowned Africa in blood to get to Wakanda. Slavery would've been a picnic compared to what Stalin or Hitler would have done. So nah, it was the best choice, if a shit one, but what I don't get is my dad. See, you preach peace, tolerance, and my dad, he makes one mistake, one stupid mistake and he dies for it." Erik pointed the pistol at Klaue and fired,
“you shithead,” was all he said, as the man collapsed on the ground wheezing as his lifeblood leaked from his body,
“Yeah, fuck you too,” and Erik fired two into the back of his head. “And one down, I can't forgive you, you took my dad, you took my life. Wakanda? I don't give a shit about Wakanda or being a Prince. I got a good deal going on, shit, I make more money in one job than most people see-” but he was interrupted the dying old man had thrown a dagger, slipping it out from his sleeve and it hit Erik squarely in the chest.
“Save the speeches, if you defeat my son, then you may brag,” and as the poison injected by Klaue finally took the old Man, Erik too collapsed, the world turning black.
~
“Yeah, I ain't impressed with this voodoo shit yah feel me," Erik said to the darkness, "I know you're there, ain't no use in hiding when I can feel you, test me if you want but you won't get nothing. I don't care about your war, I only care about me."
And if we offer you what you want?
"What I want is lying six feet away from me dead, takin its time decomposing into the shit that he is, ain't nothin you can offer me."
Power.
“Shit, I got power, I got money and power, I got Shield and CIA, I got all sorts of weird groups after me, power, offer something better or you ain't got shit”
Not like this,
Erik felt the rush go through him, muscles tightened and his body swelled, more than any steroid could offer him, his senses sharpened, and even in the dark he could see the shape as it prowled back and forth, yellow eyes glinting behind the shadows
“Nah, not worth it, I saw the files, what that Goblin shit did, hell, that coulda been me in the suit, getting my ass shot off, “
DO NOT COMPARE US TO THAT FAKE!
Erik flinched as the voice roared in his head, screaming in pain as his being shuddered in its power,
We stalked the deserts while your ancestors shat and ate it, we walked this earth as it grew and we were the first here, we are its protectors, its lifeblood, and Wakanda is its heart, we offer you eternity, we offer you everything and you refuse US! A war, a war to end life on this world is approaching, and you, your money, and your guns will be nothing in its wake, you will die, bleeding and crying in your own filth like the pathetic animal you are, we have everything for you, just take it, take it and become our champion, become our avatar and maybe, maybe you will survive.
“Shit, hard sell huh, and what if I do, you got a quest for me, go slay some mythical bullshit or something,”
The voice rumbled, no, survive, we need you as much as you need us, survive is all we ask.
“Fine, fine, then hit me. Cosmic power go!” Eric said, laughing, “Hey, can I get like uh a cool power suit, you know like on the cartoons, if you got the Black Panther then what the hell am I”
You be the avatar of death Erik Killmonger. Come now, we got work to do.
With that Erik and the shadow disappeared.
~
Eddie stretched once more, spinning and firing off a web at his target, it dodged to one side and he shot out another web and pulled himself away from the blade that shot out as it counter attacked.
The pair, a man and a spider fought, teaching, learning, and as he danced and weaved around her, she felt happy that for once, her champion could be depended upon. Eddie smiled as well, his way of the web was coming along nicely and he figured that if he fought Huntress once more it would be an even fight, no, he shook his head as he ducked under a foot-long claw, it wouldn't be, and he webbed upwards, catching the claw, weaved his hands around it and it was now covered.
Leaping upwards he leapt over the bulbous body of the creature, pulling its tied limb with it, as it reared backwards it tipped and shot out its own web to stabilize itself, swinging him back down but he had already let go as soon as he felt the spider retaliate. Landing on its back he shot out two webs, catching the top of several leg joints, spiders he remembered had difficulty bending their legs and sending out a blanket and pulling her curled the 8 limbs back up and as one came near he grabbed it, spun himself around, and webbed them all together, hogtying it.
Landing and standing, fist ready, the spider struggled but then faded from view,
Good my champion, you are ready. The one you call Venom was to be our champion but his path is different now, you must take his place, you must be the hero the people need.
Eddie snorted, yeah, they turned on me once they saw I wasn't perfect,
And you should care why? A hero does not fight for accolades or the notice of their wards, they fight because it is the right thing to do.
Strange words coming from a spider, Eddie thought and he heard the soft laughter.
And yet, who keeps a house free from pests, who works building and dealing with bothersome insects so that a home is clean, a hero is not always the one with the shiniest armour Eddie, a hero is there when needed, and gone when not.
Eddie scratched his head, yeah, I guess but you know, not being hunted for murder would be nice too,
The melodic voice laughed, on that we can agree. But you know all you need to fight in approaching storm my champion, and your time here is over.
~
Eddie woke to an alarm, a fire alarm screeching its high-pitched wail across the room and the normal ceremonial guards were all gone, Prince T’Challa had been removed and all that remained was the last of the buffet and the rest of the participants. On each of their table was a small vial of the same purple liquid. Eddie figured some emergency had called them away and they were left to deal with the second dose themselves.
Stretching he noticed that he wasn't the only one to be waking up and as he smiled at the young Asian woman he knew was called Cindy, her mouth turned in disgust. Looking over he saw that one of the men, a thick-skinned, black-haired thuggish looking man was leering at her, and the intent in his mind was plain for all to see.
As he watched the others wake up he noticed that several pairs of eyes flicked not to just their own vial but to the others and Eddie grabbed his and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.
“Hey, so, yeah, fuckin Scorpion here, you wanna dance girl?” he asked and licked his lips, and Cindy made a 'euch' noise and stood to grab her bag,
“Hey, I'm fuckin talking to you,” and he stepped towards her, it was Eddie that stood in front of him
“I don't think she’s interested man, so back off.” and Eddie raised a hand to push gently on the man's chest,
“Yeah fuck off boy scout, I ain't into pretty boys.” and Mac brushed past him and reached for Cindy. The intent was obvious though, he was grabbing for the vial and as the smallest, he figured that she must be the weakest as well.
“What is your fucking problem,” Eddie said and was about to grab Mac by the shoulder when Cindy roared at him, the costume she produced from nowhere last time spread over her and as Mac stuck out a hand, she grabbed it and swung him around, lifting him from his feet and threw him across the room.
“Nice try, boy scout but we don't need your help,” she said, as the stunned Eddie watched Mac fly through the air and collapse after crashing against the wall.
“Uh, I can see that,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.
“Yeah, Eddie, Cindy, why don't we talk somewhere else. Uh, Sam Wilson, Shield agent, I was assigned to be Spider-Man's shadow but things eh, things got a little weird, so, let's talk and yeah, not here.”
“Oh, I know a good place,” the baby faced young man spoke, he was slimly built but smiled as he spoke “Scott, Scott Lang, or well, Ant-Man I guess, and it's Spider-Man right? heh, hope Bird-Man here doesn't eat us,” and he laughed at his own joke
“It’s Falcon, and no, just, no,” and Sam shook his head, “but uh, Mr Lang, that's not a great idea, I mean, you train under Hank Pym right?” and Scott nodded.
“Sure, yeah, Hank, he’s cool,“ and Sam laughed.
“Oh shit. Yeah, he’s a cool guy alright, right up until I tell him who I work for and he blows me up or something. How about we get some food?" and as Sam looked around Eddie was helping himself to a platter of sandwiches
“What? I was fighting in there,” and Sam shook his head and shrugged.
Sam stared at him, “he’s outta line, but I guess he’s right,” and with that, he headed over and helped himself to another plate of food and a coffee as well.
Mac had shaken his head “hey, fuck you bitch, I'm the fuckin Scorpion," but the well dressed black man put a hand on his chest
“I heard of you Mac, and not here, but uh, my employer, Mr Fisk might have a position for you but not here, not now.”
Mac dusted himself off, “sure, but that fucking bitch is mine,” and Mac, Aaron, Wilson, and Adrian all left the suite, uncaring of the four people still eating and chatting.
“So, think they'll be trouble?” Eddie asked Sam, who took a bite of a cold slice of pizza but nodded,
“Oh yeah, those four, yeah.” taking out his phone Sam punched in a number, send a text and as his phone dinged and he read, he sighed “so, it looks like I'm here to stay, where Spider-Man goes it seems that Falcon has to follow,”
“Oh hey, that's great, uh, Ant-Man, Silk was it? yeah, your great too, and you two, we should form a supergroup, Spiderman and uh his amazing friends” and Cindy snorted
"yeah right, dork.”
~
“How did this happen!” T’Challa yelled at the Dora, who was shaking her head as she draped another sheet over one of her sisters.
“We don't know sir, the sprinkler system was set off, delivering a nerve agent but the alarm was cut to the rooms. Only those affected knew what was happening. With orders to stay with you, no one was outside when this happened.” she shook her head, 16 dead, not including the King.
“Klaue!” T'Challa yelled as the body was dumped onto a stretcher. He was dead, two shots in the chest and two in the head would kill anyone but that was the problem. The style, a surprise attack, and then finishing shots were not the style of the King. Even if he had been surprised he didn't own a pistol, not a simple powder weapon anyway. Add in that his ceremonial dagger was missing and a scan of the room revealed that an unknown assailant was present when the King was murdered.
What boiled T’Challas blood though was the simple DNA scan that showed that whoever it was was a member of the royal family. With him being the only member there, even if the DNA wasn't a match, it was enough to cast doubt on his leadership qualities.
“Find them, I don't care, switch the investigation from Klaue over to this mystery assassin, I want him found!” he yelled.
The surviving Dora nodded and saluted, “yes, King T’Challa.”
~
“So Mr Fisk, what can I do for you today?” The bald well-dressed man asked Wilson Fisk as the pair sat in a very expensive restaurant.
“Well, I want to make you a deal Mr Cross. I have some Oscorp files, and a few mentioned a line of armour you had Osborn develop for you, a line with some very interesting properties I might add.”
Darren Cross smiled and took a bite of his rare steak, “If, if I can get Hank Pym to agree to my terms, but let me ask you Mr Fisk what's in it for me? I have all I need right now, a new partner isn't something on my books, no matter what they can offer. I mean, Oscorp is a joke now. Hammer gets better press, and I wouldn't let him shine my shoes.”
Fisk laughed, “oh but I can offer so much more,” and taking out a small briefcase, he opened it and took out a vial of blue liquid and a much smaller sample of purple. “You recognise this?” and Darren raised an eyebrow but nodded,
“Sure, who hasn’t. But what’s the purple one?” he took the sample and held it to the light, watching as it sparkled and shimmered as if made from liquid pearl,
“The original,” was all Fisk said and Darren whistled,
“and this is what you want to offer?”
“That, my expertise and a few associates that are willing to get their hands dirty, off the books of course”
Wilson slid a piece of paper over. On it was written 5 names, Darren Crosses included.
“And you can add in me as well,” Erik Killmonger approached their table, suited in a Nehru jacket his hair, braided into dreadlocks was tied up at the top of his head and purple-tinted lensed thin glasses sat on his face. “Mr Fisk, a few years back I was sent to kill you, I failed of course but you had very good security. I heard the guy that tried after me didn't make it, stupid, I told them it wasn't worth it, and Mr Cross, your research is astounding, not as good as the formula but I think, yeah I think we can work together.”
“You, and him? A team-up? I suppose you have a plan?”
As he wrote his name on the list a faint smile crept onto his face, Erik Killmonger knew the enemy they would face, and if Spider-Man or any of the other avatars got in their way, well, six was more than enough to deal with them.
“A plan, no. Something much more sinister.”
~
"It is with great sadness that today, I must announce to the world that my father, King T’Chaka has passed away. He was a great man, a towering inspiration to us all and it was his ideals that I aspire to today. After a brief visit home, my family and I have agreed.
With the announcement of Iron Man, with the exposure of the ETF in New York City, and the danger that these enhanced individuals pose to the freedoms that my country and your country both enjoy, that it is time for Wakanda to step out of the shadow.
For hundreds of years Wakanda has hidden from the world, afraid of how we would be judged, afraid of how we would be seen but today we feel that we can hide no longer."
Behind T'Challa a large LCD monitor flickering into life playing a video.
"Wakanda has been the leading nation in technological advancements, the leading nation in medical research, in cybernetics, and in weapons technology. We kept this a secret as we understood that men can be blinded by greed, that revealing ourselves would place not just ourselves but our neighbours and the world in danger.
As the times move forwards, pioneers like Tony Stark have brought technology into the future, and in cooperation with Stark and a few others, Wakanda will be sharing this technology with the world. We have watched for centuries and waited. We believe now is the right time to come forward, now is the right time to put ourselves in the front of the worlds community, where we can do the most good, before those who would use their power can do irreparable harm. Wakanda will offer its technology, and its aid to those who need it, wherever it is needed."
~
As T’Challa watched the press conference again a tall African woman with long silver hair stalked into his room, smiling as she saw him he stood and they embraced “it is good to see you Ororo” T’Challa said as he kissed her and she moved into his embrace,
“Not with good news I am afraid,” she said back and they sat together, “Charles has been in contact with this Venom, the one you call the devourer.”
T’Challa sat forwards raising an eyebrow in concern, “no one was hurt?” and Ororo shook her head.
“No, Charles erased us from his mind but we rescued a young mutant from his home and she swears that they saved her,” and she shook her head, “but that does not sound like what the news is reporting, what J.J is screaming about every night. What if we’re wrong about him?”
T'Challa pursed his lips, “the legends are very clear, the last time a devourer landed on earth was centuries ago and it took a team of Dora Milaje and the Black Panther months to track it down and kill it, and only the King survived. A devourer on Earth is not a good thing Ororo, and you need to get you people ready to deal with him.”
Ororo sighed, “then I will warn Charles, and we should move sooner than we had hoped.” Ororo stood, “and sadly if he is as much a threat as you say then it must be right now," and T'Challa stood and moved over to where she was stood,
“Right now?” he said with a smile, and Ororo laughed, and shook her head, taking his hand and kissing it,
“You are a King now, and this might not be allowed. Your father was never one to-“ but T'Challa stopped her speaking with a kiss,
“My father is gone Ororo, and while he held to the old ways the world is different, I am different. We can discuss this when you get back, yes?” and Ororo nodded with a huge smile.
“I will only be gone a few weeks, wait for me. My king,” and as the winds picked up around her she lifted herself off and out of the open window.
~
Peter sat and watched the conference over and over, pausing on each frame of the video presentation while Liv stared at him, holding a cup of coffee in her hand,
“Uh, Liv, can we-” and as Peter looked around, he saw her shaking her head.
“No, whatever scheme you’ve thought of, whatever plan you think will work for you to get your hands on Wakandan technology, no. Not ever, and I mean that Peter. I love you but I'm not about to let you start an international incident because you want to try and assimilate a Wakandan jet. MJ still hasn't forgiven you for what you did to her toaster dear, you should start there first.”
Peter huffed, crossing her arms, “it was only a little fireball, it wasn't like it hurt anyone” and went back to staring at the still frames of the presentation again.
Malisson
as the power of the Celestial drained from their bodies, the world in which they fought and died cracked and crumbled, each of the avatars of the stones adding their power to the already unstable core.
The world succumbed and exploding in a huge fireball, rivalling a star it sent shockwaves throughout the universe as if to announce
The Gods Are Dead.
Pieces flew to all corners and the creatures of the universe found these remnants held power, not just within themselves but a power that could be used. The Gods Blood, or Uru, was coveted and hoarded to make weapons of war.
The remains of the planet, large and magnificent, still hosted life, protected by some kindness of fate, and over time, these people rose to power. Harnessing and controlling the very essence of the Celestials within themselves they ventured out into the galaxy, but not as conquers, but as guardians.
~
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