[WARNING:GORE]
Rain pelts like mortar shells, droplets as heavy and dense as hail.
A figure carrying a man swings through the darkened cityscape above silent, empty streets. The night is cold, heavy over the city. Harsh blue light glints off skyscraper windows, painting the city in a hostile hue. The full moon watches all that breathes or moves; those who do not move appear frozen in fear.
The figure spins one web after another while the kidnapped man murmurs in pain, gagged, breath shallow, panic clawing at his ribs.
One final web, then a stop on an isolated rooftop. The figure scans for danger, body still taut from the bloody he fight just escaped. His black costume repairs itself, alert as the man slung over his shoulder wails.
He releases his grip and shrugs violently, causing the man to fall hard onto the rooftop, whimpering.
The kidnapper approaches and removes the gag.
The kidnapped man squints, gritting his teeth, struggling not to scream. Panting, he says, “The plan is... already in motion.”
The kidnapper crouches, left arm on left thigh, right knee on the ground. He brushes the victim’s hair back in mockery, scanning him head to toe.
A low, gravelly chuckle escapes the kidnapper. “And you don’t think I know that? Chat Noir and Ladybug already defused the bombs while me and your men”—he tilts his head slightly—“were busy...”
The victim says nothing.
The kidnapper rises and paces slowly, measured.
“Everyone creates the thing they dread. Men of peace create engines of war. Criminals create heroes. Scum create... me...do you see the beauty of it?”
The victim’s eyes widen.
“I think about meteors—the purity of them. How they’re sent to wipe out viruses, to make room for new and healthy growth.”
The victim starts to crawl back, struggling; his hands and feet tied.
The kidnapper walks toward him in measured steps, then throws down a stack of photographs.
The victim looks.
The first: children, organs missing, bodies split open.
The second: a conscious man, limbless, tied to a chair. His wife’s severed head lies beside him.
The third: a burning village with corpses of men, women, and children still ablaze.
The kidnapper’s voice hardens. “The atrocity at the town’s local school. The mutilation of Lucien Moreau for speaking the truth about your drug deals. Burning down Kisenga because they refused to move over an oil field.”
The victim sits upright; pupils wide as coins, sweat dripping from his face.
“Calling you scum is an understatement... you’re a monster. That needs to be buried six feet deep.”
Desperate, the victim stammers, “It—it wasn’t me, Spider-Man! I—it—”
Spider-Man shoots a web, sealing the victim’s mouth.
Symbiote Spider-Man lowers his head in grief. “The world would’ve looked to the sky and seen hope, seen mercy...” His head rises in rage. “Instead, they look up in horror because of you.”
Spider-Man approaches, pacing fast as the victim struggles against his fate.
He grabs the victim’s throat. His mask peels back from the lens, revealing his eyes locked on the victim’s.
The symbiote’s claws shoot out, piercing the victim’s gullet. Blood gushes as the victim struggles to breathe.
Symbiote Spider-Man, staring into the man’s eyes, says, “I had strings... but now I’m free.”
[Out of the story note]
Yeah yeah ik calling it miraculous X Spiderman is a stretch considering how both chat noir and ladybug were barely mentioned butttt there's more.
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