Venom roared and ate a bell. Swallowed the bronze whole. Then he rang himself—a deafening, bone-shattering clang that sent sound waves through the symbiotes like a tuning fork to the brain.
“We out-crazy him.”
They struck. One heart. Two monsters. One terrible, beautiful partnership.
“He’s playing with us, Eddie.”
“No kidding.” Eddie wiped blood from his lip. Across the altar, Cletus Kasady stood grinning, his skin rippling with crimson symbiote. Carnage. A nightmare welded to a madman.
Carnage screeched, unraveling at the seams. Cletus screamed.
“Told you,” Venom murmured. “Never let anyone take your chaos.”
Eddie Brock stumbled through the nave, clutching a fractured pew. Inside his skull, Venom hissed like a kettle about to explode.
And in that single second of agony, Eddie whispered: “We are Venom.”
“We’re the same, Eddie!” Cletus laughed, tendrils sprouting axes, blades, fangs. “Monsters just want to be loved!”
Venom surged forward. Black mass met red. The cathedral shook—stone saints toppling, stained glass exploding into kaleidoscopic shrapnel. Carnage was faster, meaner. He didn’t just bite; he unraveled .
“Then what?”
“Eddie... we can’t outfight him.”