Chapter 65: What’s Happening to Me?

New York — Afternoon

Dressed in his symbiote suit, Peter swung between the buildings of New York. Yet the way he moved was nothing like it used to be. Every movement seemed more brutal, more instinctive... almost animalistic. His mind consumed by anger and frustration, he was no longer even trying to accomplish a mission. He was simply looking for a target... an excuse. Anything that would allow him to unleash all the rage boiling inside him.

His attention was suddenly drawn to a scene unfolding several meters below. A thief had just violently snatched a young woman's purse before taking off at full speed, quickly putting distance between himself and his victim.

— "HE STOLE MY BAG! HELP! PLEASE!"

A few moments later, the man rushed into an alley, convinced that no one had seen or followed him. Certain that he had pulled it off, he smiled with satisfaction as he looked at his loot.

— "Awesome! I can't wait to see what's inside!"

But, at that very moment, several black webs suddenly shot out and violently pinned him to the ground. The impact knocked the bag out of his hands, and it landed right beside him. Spider-Man immediately retrieved it with a web before accurately sending it back to its owner.

— "Thank you so much... uh, Spider-Man!"

She thanked him awkwardly, but the young man in black didn't even spare her a glance. Without saying a single word, he simply turned around and walked into the alley where the thief was still immobilized.

— "Oh no... not you!"

He desperately tried to break free from the webs holding him captive, but quickly realized it was completely useless. Resigned, he let out a sigh before awkwardly raising his hands in surrender.

— "Okay... I surrender. All right."

Spider-Man remained perfectly silent. Without answering, he slowly walked toward him until he was standing directly over him. Even behind his mask, his attitude alone was enough to reveal all the contempt he felt for the man.

— "Hey... could you untie me, please? Your webs are seriously weird. Uh... no offense, of course."

Spider-Man slowly crouched down toward him. For a brief moment, the thief believed he was finally going to free him and hand him over to the police. But he was wrong.

A violent punch suddenly slammed into his face. Completely caught off guard, he was unable to react. Barely had he taken the first blow when a second immediately followed. This time, surprise gave way to genuine shock... and fear.

— "Y-You don't have to hit me! It's okay! I surrender!"

He raised his voice, convinced that Spider-Man simply hadn't heard him. Yet the punches kept raining down without the slightest hesitation. The more the seconds passed, the more unbearable the pain became.

— "HEY! I SAID I SURRENDER! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

He began screaming at the top of his lungs, hoping that a passerby would come to his rescue. But no one reacted. The few people passing nearby carefully avoided looking at the scene and simply continued on their way. Meanwhile, Spider-Man kept hitting him over and over again, in the stomach, across the face, until blood began pouring freely.

— "S-STOP!"

While, somewhere deep within his mind, a voice seemed to be screaming at him to keep going with almost animalistic ferocity, something suddenly stopped him in his tracks. The moment he saw the thief's bruised face, twisted in terror, another image abruptly forced its way into his mind. For a fraction of a second, he no longer felt as though he was looking at that man... but at Gwen. Then Aunt May. His body instantly froze.

Still kneeling over his victim, Peter remained motionless, incapable of making the slightest movement. Slowly, his gaze drifted down to his own hands. They were covered in the blood of the man lying beneath him.

Without saying a single word, he slowly stood up before abruptly turning his back on the scene and fleeing by launching himself into the air, leaving the half-dead thief behind.

For dozens of long seconds, Peter did nothing but swing. Farther and farther away. Again and again. As though putting distance between himself and that alley could somehow erase what had just happened. During that desperate escape, countless thoughts tore through his mind with the sharpness of blades. He felt as though he had finally emerged from a long trance that had lasted for days, and was only now looking back with a clear mind at everything he had done since the symbiote had entered his life. His change in behavior, the violence of his words, the brutality of his blows, every person he had killed, whether they had been his enemies or not... everything came rushing back all at once, like a man violently waking up after an endless hangover.

Mid-swing, a violent wave of nausea suddenly overwhelmed him. He let himself fall onto the rooftop of a building, tore off his mask in a panic, and vomited for several long seconds. Tears welled up in his eyes while his nose ran uncontrollably.

Little by little, he managed to catch his breath again, slowly, with difficulty. Then his expression gradually changed. Confusion gave way to profound fear.

He had finally understood: Something was terribly wrong.

— "...What's happening to me?"

New York — Outdoor Terrace of a Small Restaurant — Afternoon

Seated at a table on the outdoor terrace, Eddie calmly sipped his drink, looking perfectly relaxed. Across from him, Gwen hadn't ordered anything. Her serious, closed-off expression stood in complete contrast to the peaceful atmosphere of the restaurant. She clearly hadn't come to enjoy a pleasant afternoon, but for one very specific reason.

— "Why did you want to see me? Is everything okay?"

At that question, Gwen didn't answer. She simply kept staring at Eddie with an almost oppressive intensity, never taking her eyes off him.

— "Gwen? Can I ask why you're looking at me like that?"

He let out a small laugh, hoping to ease the tension, but his attempt fell completely flat. Gwen responded with neither a smile nor the slightest sign of kindness, and that gradually began to unsettle the young man from within.

After a few moments of silence, she lowered her eyes slightly toward the table, as though she were carefully searching for the words she was about to say.

— "Gwen, I—"

— "Eddie... I'd like to know something..."

Despite the atmosphere having become particularly heavy, Eddie maintained his innocent and friendly demeanor.

— "Know what...?"

Then, without warning, Gwen slowly raised her head. Her gaze, now filled with determination, pierced straight through Eddie's.

— "I want to know why you lied about Peter. I know it isn't true, so don't even try to lie to me."

The very moment those words were spoken, a powerful clap of thunder ripped across the sky. Within just a few moments, the atmosphere changed completely. The bright blue sky gradually disappeared, replaced by thick, dark gray clouds, while the first raindrops began to fall. Faced with the accusation, Eddie nevertheless tried to stay in character until the very end, pretending not to understand.

— "W-What? What are you talking about, Gwen? Why would I—"

But the moment he saw the expression on the young woman's face, he immediately understood that it was over. His lie had been exposed, and his mask fell away.

The gentle, polite, innocent young man gradually disappeared, giving way to an entirely different face. His features hardened, his gaze turned colder, and the warm smile he always wore completely vanished. For the very first time since they had met, Gwen was finally standing before the real Eddie Brock... the one Peter had hated from the very beginning.

As the rain gradually grew heavier, the restaurant's automatic system deployed a massive awning over the terrace, protecting the customers, the tables, and the two teenagers from the downpour that continued to fall over New York.

New York — St. Patrick's Cathedral — Day

The day was already well underway, in the very heart of summer, and yet New York seemed to have been swallowed by a deluge. Torrential rain poured relentlessly over the city, regularly accompanied by flashes of lightning and violent claps of thunder.

Caught off guard by the sudden change in weather, pedestrians rushed to take shelter inside restaurants, bookstores, and every nearby establishment that was still open. Yet, as strange as it seemed, it wasn't cold. The air remained surprisingly mild, creating a contrast that was as unsettling as it was disturbing.

High atop St. Patrick's Cathedral, perched between the stone gargoyles and the massive crosses overlooking the building, a lone figure remained motionless beneath the endless rain. It was Spider-Man. Still dressed in his black suit, he almost blended into the cathedral's Gothic architecture.

From a distance, he no longer looked like a hero, but like a creature lurking in the shadows... a true demon whose presence seemed perfectly at home among the gargoyles surrounding him.

After spending a long moment gazing at the horizon, his eyes finally lowered to his hands before settling on the black mask he held between his fingers. Ever since he had vomited and regained part of his lucidity, something inside him had changed. It was as though his entire being now instinctively refused to put that mask back on.

A few moments later, the vigilante let himself fall into the void and landed with perfect agility inside the cathedral, more precisely within the bell tower. He slowly walked toward the enormous bell suspended above the opening overlooking the cathedral's nave, then came to a stop in front of it, silently observing it.

His mind was in complete turmoil. Professor Connors' notes about the symbiote replayed once again in his memory with unsettling clarity.

Every observation, every conclusion, and every essential piece of information came back to him vividly... but among them, three in particular held his attention: the symbiote's weaknesses.

TO BE CONTINUED.