"Perfect body, powerful muscles—I love you, Batman!"
Venom, having abandoned Eddie Brock, latched onto Batman's body, and its first reaction was sheer ecstasy.
Its original intent was to possess Batman briefly, to control him, hoping for a brutal, close-quarters brawl rather than dealing with the usual barrage of batarangs, bombs, or webbing from a distance.
Just a moment ago, Venom's ideal host had been Eddie Brock, a man consumed by hatred.
But the instant Venom entered Batman's body, its perspective shifted entirely. It decided it would never return to Eddie Brock. Instead, it would merge with Batman, becoming one with him.
While a symbiote's requirements for a host were not particularly stringent, a stronger host meant a far more formidable combined form.
If Venom had a heart, it would surely be pounding wildly now.
Having just left Eddie Brock, a man filled with seething hatred, Venom found that Batman was not only physically exceptional but also harbored an even more overwhelming storm of anger and vengeance within his heart.
This discovery solidified Venom's resolve to unite with Batman, and it dove headlong into the depths of Batman's memories.
It saw a pearl necklace scattering in a dark alley, heard the eternal echo of a gunshot.
It witnessed the endless madness of Arkham Asylum, felt the pervasive evil festering in every corner of Gotham City.
Venom trembled with excitement, eager to feed on this profound well of anger and pain.
But the feast Venom anticipated never came. Instead of igniting an emotional powder keg, it crashed into a cold, unyielding, boundless darkness.
It had stumbled into a prison of shadow.
Batman's mind was a labyrinth of infinite plans, an obsessive need for control twisted to the extreme, and a profound loneliness and distrust that set him against the world itself—spawning yet more plans.
In this darkness, Venom glimpsed a figure cloaked in a bat-like cape, seated in utter silence, shrouded in pitch-black stillness.
The figure's face was a featureless void, staring calmly in Venom's direction, unmoving.
In the mental realm, Venom recoiled in terror, desperate to flee, but then a faint, childish sob broke the silence.
"Oh, so this is where your weakest self hides? Buried beneath that seemingly unbreakable exterior?"
Venom halted its retreat, realizing the sobbing came from behind the seated, shadowy figure.
It crept closer, certain that if it could seize this vulnerability, it could dominate this body, just as it had with Eddie Brock.
As Venom drew nearer to the shadow, it finally saw the source of the sound: a small boy, no more than seven or eight years old, sitting in the darkness, arms wrapped around himself, weeping softly.
But just as Venom reached out to probe further, the seated shadow rose without warning. Simultaneously, impenetrable barriers surged up from the darkness, towering and unyielding.
At the entrance to the FEAST shelter, a car screeched to a halt. Before it had fully stopped, the door flew open, and Martin Li rushed inside.
The shelter was deserted. Dark red blood stained the walls in splotches, and neatly arranged tables and chairs lay scattered and overturned.
On the floor, several headless corpses sprawled haphazardly, blood still oozing slowly from their severed necks, not yet congealed.
"Batman eats people? Is he truly a monster?" Martin Li frowned at the hellish scene before him.
He had heard of Batman, the figure causing a stir in New York recently.
From what Martin Li knew, Batman might be some ancient, legendary creature come to life, ruthlessly brutal against any opponent, yet strangely, no one had reportedly died by his hand.
But now, the seven or eight headless bodies littering his shelter mocked the rumor that "Batman doesn't kill."
Martin Li had always believed he and Batman had no quarrel. His FEAST shelter had no conflicts of interest with anyone or any faction.
He had never imagined Batman would one day barge in and unleash such carnage.
"Is it really Batman, or some other monster?" Martin Li wondered aloud, when suddenly a series of muffled crashes interrupted his thoughts.
Crack!
The walls at the front and back of the FEAST shelter were smashed open, leaving gaping holes. Not only did the night breeze pour through, but so did the sound of footsteps and eerie, inhuman roars—neither fully human nor beastly.
As Martin Li stepped over the headless corpses to investigate the hole in the back wall, a blinding event unfolded.
Boom!
A piercing white flash erupted, flooding the small garden behind the FEAST shelter with blinding light, accompanied by high-pitched noise and a violent shockwave.
Instinctively, Martin Li summoned his negative energy, tendrils of it flaring from his body like flames.
Amid the white light, human screams mingled with those guttural, monstrous roars.
When the light faded, Negative saw Batman standing motionless in the garden. Eddie Brock, missing for an entire night, was there too, snarling as he tried to rip off Batman's mask.
There was no one—or nothing—else in the garden.
The moment Eddie Brock's hand touched the mask, a surge of electricity discharged, striking him. He collapsed, convulsing and screaming in agony.
Negative's gaze lingered only briefly on Eddie Brock. His attention was fixed on Batman.
Batman's form was rippling violently.
Black symbiote matter erupted from his body, forming twisted muscles and jagged teeth, only to be forced back inside the next moment by some invisible force, like a prisoner struggling against its chains.
"What's happening?"
Negative frowned at Batman, whose suit seemed almost alive. He sensed two immense sources of negative energy building within Batman.
One was Eddie Brock's all-consuming hatred, a desire for vengeance against everyone. The other was far more complex.
But regardless, Batman stood frozen, unmoving. Even Eddie Brock's collapse was caused by a passive discharge of electricity from the suit.
Without overthinking, Negative saw an opportunity to seize the advantage. He fired a bolt of negative energy from his fingertips toward Batman.
As the master of negative energy, Negative could sense and amplify the negative emotions of others. He could turn the closest family, the best of friends, or the most devoted lovers against each other, driving them to slaughter.
He could make the weakest succumb to their negative emotions, becoming his pawns—or worse, mindless beasts wearing human skin.
And now, Negative intended to do the same to Batman.