San Francisco - Life Foundation Headquarters.
The spacecraft launch control room buzzed with quiet intensity. Rows of glowing monitors bathed the room in cold blue light, while the low hum of machinery mixed with the steady tapping of keyboards. The staff, clad in crisp white lab coats and headsets, were in the middle of their final pre-launch simulation.
As one of the most powerful genetics companies in the world, the Life Foundation prided itself on pushing the boundaries of science, especially when it came to solving humanity's survival problems through advanced space technology. Out there, beyond Earth, lay answers. Resources and possibly new worlds to be explored. The mysteries of the universe waiting to be cracked open like a code.
They believed their aerospace division was already years ahead of most competitors. This would be their second rocket to venture beyond the atmosphere.
The first, Life One, had ended in disaster. Officially, the accident was "unforeseen." Unofficially, the staff still whispered about the incident late at night, when the building's long corridors felt too empty.
But this time, there would be no mistakes. Everything was being triple-checked. Every bolt, every circuit, every sequence in the launch program was scrutinized with almost obsessive care.
That calm, professional rhythm was shattered when the sliding doors hissed open.
Drake, the CEO of the Life Foundation, strode in with the confidence of a man who believed the room, and everyone in it, belonged to him. His sharp suit contrasted against the sterile lab environment, his eyes alight with something more than ambition.
"Launch it. Now," he said, voice low but carrying an edge that made people's hands freeze over their keyboards.
The request, no, the command wasn't just unusual, it was practically insane.
"Sir, the final systems check isn't…" one technician began, but his words cut off when Drake stepped forward, grabbed the man by the shoulder, and shoved him aside with enough force to send him spinning into a console.
The CEO moved with unsettling precision, leaning over the launch controls as if he'd done this a hundred times before. His hand slammed the ignition sequence button, and the room filled with the deep mechanical thrum of engines coming online.
And then Drake changed.
Before their horrified eyes, his skin rippled and split, silver fluid surging outward like living mercury. In seconds, his human frame had been replaced by a towering, hulking figure of metallic muscle, Riot.
Gasps filled the room. Chairs scraped against the floor as staff stumbled backward, but there was no escape.
Riot's hands warped into two massive, gleaming scythes. With a single sweeping motion, the blades cut through the air, and through people. Bodies fell in grotesque halves, crimson spraying across the control panels and staining the pristine white walls.
The scent of scorched metal and iron filled the air as instruments sparked and split apart under Riot's swings.
No one would be left alive to interfere. No one would touch his navigation controls.
Drake's, or rather Riot's goal was simple: he would go into space and bring back as many symbiotes as he could. Once they arrived, Earth would kneel to their combined might.
And when that happened, Drake would finally settle the score with that man, the one who had invaded his lab in the dead of night, stolen a symbiote from under his nose, and humiliated him. His lips pulled back into a smile that was all hunger and promise.
He turned, sprinting for the launch pad.
From the shadows at the far end of the pad, Venom and Eddie emerged.
Venom didn't want this fight. Riot wasn't just stronger than him, he was the strongest of their kind. But Earth… Earth was worth fighting for. Here, Venom wasn't a loser. Here, he'd felt what it was like to be powerful, feared, and even, in a weird way, liked.
The odds of winning were slim, but the alternative was losing everything.
Without another thought, Venom lunged. Riot turned to meet him, and their clash was instant and brutal, the sound of metal on metal ringing through the launch pad.
Venom fought hard, but Riot drove him back step by step, each blow heavier than the last. Eddie's boots scraped against the metal platform as they retreated under the assault.
And then, overhead, a yellow blur streaked through the sky.
Inside the Camaro, Luke leaned forward in his seat, relief washing over him. "Barely made it…" he muttered. Missing this fight would've been a crime against cinematic history.
Below, the symbiotes were a tangle of claws, teeth, and rage. Luke smirked, tapped Bumblebee's dash, and the passenger door swung open.
"Doggo, I choose you!"
The fat husky launched from the car like a furry cannonball, limbs flailing, tongue lolling. Luke shut the door, rolled down the window, and leaned out to watch. Why join in himself when he could send his pokemon?
On the platform, the two symbiotes froze. They had both inhabited dogs before. They knew exactly what was plummeting toward them.
And it made no sense.
Venom's eyes narrowed. That dog, he remembered the lab. He remembered Phage was inside it.
"Eddie," Venom warned, voice low, "that dog is dangerous."
Eddie blinked up at the falling husky. "…Pretty sure it's just a dog."
"Not just a dog," Venom snapped.
"Either way, if it hits the ground…" Eddie's voice rose. "We gotta catch it!"
Venom stepped them backward. "No."
"What do you mean, no?!"
"I mean just watch. And shut up."
Across the platform, Drake had also recognized the dog. His stomach turned at the memory, the nightmarish mouth, the blood, the humiliation. Even inside Riot, the memory made him shiver.
Riot, however, didn't share his host's fear. "Pathetic. I'll kill it first, then Venom."
His arm morphed into a blade, gleaming under the launch pad lights. He stepped forward, positioning himself where Doggo would land. One clean strike, and the problem would be solved.
Or so that's what he thought.