"Who!?" Carlton cried, startled as someone suddenly plummeted from the sky.
In an instant, a silver-gray symbiote engulfed his entire body, transforming him into a grotesque monster—Riot.
When the Life Foundation's spacecraft crashed, two symbiotes escaped.
One was Venom—the one now bonded to Peter Parker.
The other was Riot.
Unlike Venom, however, Riot's bonding process was far more arduous.
He struggled to find a suitable host at first, enduring several failed attempts before finally settling on Carlton.
His choice wasn't based solely on biological compatibility.
The primary reason? Carlton was chairman of the Life Foundation—
a position that granted him ample authority to launch spacecraft back into orbit.
With Carlton's help, Riot planned to retrieve his fellow symbiotes and bring them to Earth, ultimately conquering the planet.
This scheme also aligned with Carlton's own obsession: what he called "the evolution of all humanity."
For weeks, they'd worked tirelessly toward this goal.
Now, another Life Foundation spacecraft stood ready for launch—scheduled to depart that very night to retrieve the remaining symbiotes.
But before they could proceed, they needed to solve the rejection reaction caused by symbiote-human fusion.
Doing so would ensure seamless integration when the symbiote army arrived, allowing humanity to "evolve" under their control.
Peter Parker, currently captive in their lab, was the perfect test subject—
which was precisely why they'd captured him.
Just as they prepared to begin, however, an unforeseen disruption shattered their plans—
leaving both Carlton and Riot stunned and furious.
All eyes snapped toward the black-clad figure who had just materialized in the room:
a woman in a flowing gothic dress.
This was impossible.
They were deep inside the Life Foundation's most secure and secretive laboratory—
a fortress protected by impenetrable defenses:
a one-meter-thick reinforced brick wall and a ten-centimeter steel plate.
Even sustained artillery fire wouldn't breach it in under an hour.
Yet now, that impossibility lay in ruins.
Carlton gaped in disbelief at the massive hole blasted clean through the ceiling.
A one-meter-thick brick wall…
A ten-centimeter steel plate…
Blown open like it was nothing?!
He wouldn't have believed it—if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.
From the smoke and debris descended 2B.
Her silver hair gleamed under the harsh lab lights as she cast a cold glance at Riot, her brow furrowing in distaste.
After a beat, she spoke—voice laced with disgust:
"Are you the symbiote the Boss was talking about? You're really ugly."
"?????" — Riot.
"??????" — Carlton.
Riot stood frozen, utterly bewildered—and then enraged—by the sudden arrival and immediate insult.
As the leader of the Symbiote Squad, he had never been treated like this before—this was a blatant provocation!
He roared, and his right hand transformed into a giant scythe, slashing down toward 2B's neck.
The attack was swift and powerful; such a blow would have instantly severed the head of an ordinary person.
Yet 2B remained calm and indifferent in the face of his ruthless strike, clearly not taking him seriously at all.
Having already faced the Hulk in battle, her AI had analyzed a suite of combat techniques designed to counter immensely powerful foes.
With a light leap, she not only evaded his scythe but landed directly atop the blade itself.
She moved so fast she was invisible to the naked eye.
"Strength without speed won't kill anyone," she said coolly. "I advise you to surrender—obediently."
"My boss said that if you come with me willingly, he'll spare your life," she continued. "So—will you come quietly, or must I make you?"
2B stood weightlessly atop Riot's scythe, gazing down at him with utter indifference.
She hadn't uttered a single harsh word, yet to Riot, her words felt like needles pricking his pride.
This was taunting—the ultimate form of mockery!
"Woman, you're asking for it!"
Enraged, Riot morphed his other hand into a long knife and thrust it toward 2B's torso.
But this time, 2B didn't even bother to dodge. She simply stood still.
Seeing this, Riot's fanged mouth twisted into a cunning smile—he already imagined her gruesome end beneath his blade.
In an instant, his longsword pierced 2B's body with unstoppable force, as if determined to end her in a single strike!
But to his utter shock, the blade—once sharp enough to cleave through steel—now…
…failed to break the skin of the silver-haired woman before him. No matter how hard he drove it forward, the tip refused to penetrate even an inch.
The sight defied belief. He stood frozen in disbelief.
"This… how is this possible?!" Riot muttered, as though refusing to accept reality.
He slammed the blade into her again with all his might—but the result was the same.
Then, 2B raised her hand and seized the conjured longsword. With a sharp twist—
Clang!
She snapped the weapon in half with her bare hands.
"!!!!"
Riot staggered back, finally realizing the woman before him was no ordinary opponent.
He instinctively tried to retreat—but 2B gave him no chance.
Gripping the broken tip of the blade, she whipped it forward violently.
In a flash, the shard became a streak of light, piercing Riot's body with lightning speed.
The impact hurled him backward, slamming him hard into the wall behind him.
Riot had never imagined things would unfold this way—it was utterly inconceivable.
From the moment he launched his attack to the instant he was pinned to the wall by 2B, less than five seconds had passed. He'd been utterly humiliated.
Yet as leader of the Symbiote Squad, he couldn't surrender so easily.
He yanked the knife tip from his flesh and reabsorbed it into his body as if nothing had happened.
But in that same moment, 2B appeared before him again—her blade driven spear-like through his chest, pinning him once more to the wall.
Unlike the earlier shard, this strike was followed by a deliberate motion: 2B flicked her fingers against the hilt of her sword.
A sharp, metallic clang rang out.
As the so
und echoed, Riot's body began to writhe as though boiling from within.
Shrill screams tore from his mouth—raw, agonized, and desperate.
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