San Francisco.
Even though night had fallen, one of the most vibrant cities in the United States was still alive with noise and neon. But this night felt different—thicker with tension, shadowed by something unnatural.
A young man on a motorcycle sped through the streets, a swarm of flame-spitting drones closing in behind him. His arms bulged unnaturally, coated in a sleek, black substance that rippled like oil over muscle.
There was panic on his face—confusion and a rising terror—as the motorcycle roared beneath him.
"What the hell is happening to me?!" he shouted, his voice cracking as his hands twitched with a will of their own.
This was Eddie Brock, a journalist known for his relentless pursuit of the truth. What set him apart was his uncompromising sense of justice.
While covering a story, Eddie uncovered something horrifying. A powerful tech corporation based in San Francisco—the Life Foundation—was abducting the homeless and using them for illegal human experimentation.
Despite being assigned a simple PR piece on the Foundation, Eddie went rogue and tried to expose them. His decision backfired. He was fired from his job. His girlfriend, unfairly implicated, lost her position as well—and promptly broke up with him.
Devastated, Eddie hit rock bottom. But that's when an unexpected figure appeared.
A senior researcher from the Life Foundation, someone who had helped conduct the experiments, reached out to him. Sickened by the inhumane practices, she sought to expose the truth—and she believed Eddie was the only one brave enough to help.
She explained that the Foundation had been luring in vulnerable people with false promises, then conducting deadly tests—bonding humans with alien organisms retrieved from a recent space mission.
Eddie initially refused. He was broken, angry, and afraid. But guilt gnawed at him. And eventually, that sense of justice wouldn't let him walk away.
With the researcher's help, Eddie infiltrated the Life Foundation's secret lab. There, he discovered what they had truly brought back from space.
It was no ordinary organism.
It was a symbiote—a living alien substance that required a host to survive, enhancing their body in terrifying ways.
Carlton Drake, the Foundation's CEO, believed these beings were humanity's evolutionary future. His obsession with bonding symbiotes to human hosts had already killed dozens.
When Eddie tried to rescue a test subject—someone he recognized—the chaos escalated. The symbiote transferred to Eddie during the breakout. Moments later, the woman he tried to save was already dead.
Eddie escaped the facility, but not alone. The symbiote had fully merged with him now. And Drake, realizing what had happened, unleashed everything he had to retrieve the rogue "specimen."
Thugs. Drones. Vehicles. Even elite mercenaries.
Eddie, barely in control, fled into the night on his motorcycle—chased across the city in a hail of gunfire and flame.
As bullets tore through the air, the black symbiote surged to protect its host. It healed Eddie's wounds in seconds, reinforcing his limbs with brutal alien power.
One thug cornered him near an alley, grabbed his collar, and tried to drag him upright.
Too late.
A wave of black matter surged over Eddie's body, cocooning him in sleek, obsidian armor. The twisted shape grew taller, bulkier—mutating into a monstrous figure nearly three meters tall.
Sharp fangs. A forked tongue. Pale, soulless eyes.
Venom had emerged.
He gripped the attacker and spoke with a guttural snarl:
"Heart. Liver. Lungs. Pancreas. All delicious. But I don't have time to savor them."
Gunfire erupted. The Foundation's men opened fire from behind—but the bullets bounced off Venom's hardened skin.
"ROAR!"
With a thunderous growl, Venom leapt toward the gunman and bit clean through his head.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Venom didn't wait. With inhuman agility, he vaulted into the night, diving into the river and swimming far downstream. He pulled himself ashore in the shadows, gasping for breath.
Eddie stumbled onto the sand, trembling. A black tendril snaked from his chest, forming a grinning, monstrous face that stared back at him.
"What… what are you?" Eddie asked, horrified.
Before the symbiote could answer, a calm voice broke the silence.
"His name is Venom."
Eddie spun around. A man stood at the edge of the streetlight glow—tall, composed, and completely unfazed by what he'd just witnessed.
Venom instantly reacted, covering Eddie again and assuming full combat form. He growled and stepped forward menacingly.
"Who are you? And how do you know my name?"
Zenkichi didn't flinch. Venom lunged forward with a powerful swipe.
Zenkichi smiled faintly.
In one smooth motion, he raised his hand and caught Venom's claw in midair. Venom froze—completely immobilized.
"What…?!"
Even the symbiote's monstrous strength was useless. Zenkichi's grip radiated an energy Venom couldn't begin to resist.
"You can't win," Zenkichi said calmly. "Stop fighting."
He held out his other hand. A wave of spiritual pressure surged forward, condensing into a shimmering sphere that surrounded Venom like an unbreakable seal.
With a soft hum, the black mass peeled off Eddie's body, writhing and pulsing inside the energy sphere like living tar.
Eddie dropped to his knees, gasping.
"Was that… thing really inside me?"
Zenkichi nodded.
"That's right," he said, examining the symbiote. "This is Venom. A very unique and fascinating lifeform."