My Son.... Come to me!

Oh, Great... Venom

You know that feeling when you're being chased by something, and you're not exactly sure what it is, but you're 99.9% sure it's bad? Like, "New York City's on fire" bad? Yeah, that's me right now.

Sling!

Flip!

Sling!

Yeah, you heard that right. I'm web-slinging across the city like a caffeinated squirrel who found out the nuts were poisoned.

"Come on, Pete! Why do these things always happen to you?" I mutter to myself, flipping off another rooftop and barely dodging... something.

Let's pause for a second. I know you're probably wondering: "What's chasing you, Peter?"

Honestly? I have no clue. Haven't had time to look back and take notes. But I'm getting the distinct impression that turning around for a better view would result in me being turned into street pizza.

All I know is, I was minding my own business—helping Aunt May, eating pizza, living that quintessential New York teenager life—and then... boom! Something wanted to make my life even harder than it already is.

What's that? Oh, sorry, no time to explain. I'm busy swinging for my life.

I shoot another web, launching myself around a skyscraper, because, you know, nothing says "safe" like flinging yourself through New York traffic at high speeds. Mid-air, I flip again—because style points are important, even when you're on the verge of dying—and land on a ledge.

Now, I can't help but take a quick peek behind me. I know, rookie mistake, but curiosity killed the cat—oh wait, I'm Spider-Man. I can't let the cat steal my gig.

I glance back, half-expecting a giant monster, a pack of crazed symbiotes, or maybe a pizza delivery guy who's been stuck in traffic too long and has finally snapped. But... nope. Still no idea. Whatever it is, though, it's fast. Like, "Usain Bolt on Red Bull" fast.

Okay, time to go! I leap off the ledge, flipping backward, because again—style, people! I shoot another web, aiming for the top of the nearest building, when—

BAM!

I crash right into something. Or, more accurately, someone.

"Whoa, watch where you're swinging, kid!"

Uh-oh.

Mid-flip, my face gets reacquainted with a metal suit that can only belong to one guy.

"Oof! Hi, Mr. Stark!" I manage to say, my voice muffled because, you know, my face is literally pressed into his shiny red armor.

I feel him grab me by the back of my suit, like I'm some kind of kitten, and yank me upright. I dangle there for a moment, looking at him, while he looks at me. Just two people hanging out. Totally normal.

"Well, well, if it isn't New York's favorite web-head," Stark says, clearly amused. "Got time for a chat, or are you late for a track meet?"

I groan, pulling myself free and landing on the rooftop beside him, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah, about that... I'm kinda in the middle of a thing right now."

"Oh, a thing? Very specific." Tony crosses his arms, the red and gold of his suit gleaming in the sunlight. His visor slides up, revealing that signature smirk. "So, what are we running from this time? Angry moms? Another science fair you forgot about?"

I shoot him a look, pulling at my mask so I can breathe a little easier. "Ha-ha, very funny. If you must know, I'm being chased by something really dangerous. Don't ask me what it is, because I'm still working that out."