The Anti Symbiote

Once upon a time, far across the stars, there lived a whole family of creatures made of living goo.

They were called symbiotes. And symbiotes, dear one, all share certain things. They come from a distant world. They like to wrap around a friend, whom they call a host. And they share wonderful powers — great strength, and wall-crawling, and living webs that shoot from the hands. Venom is one of these creatures. Carnage is another.

But tonight's story is about the strangest symbiote of them all. The one who is different from every other. His name is Anti-Venom, and he is the one symbiote who is the enemy of all the rest.

He is the antidote. The cure. The thing that every black symbiote fears most in all the world.

Would you like to know why? Then settle in, and I will tell you.

You remember how Anti-Venom was born, don't you? When kind Martin Li's healing Lightforce mixed with the tiny traces of Venom hidden in Eddie Brock's blood, it made something brand new — something no one had ever seen before. It filled the white symbiote with special antibodies, built for one purpose: to fight symbiotes themselves.

And so, to an ordinary black goo, Anti-Venom's gentle touch is pure trouble. Wherever his glowing white hands come to rest, the black symbiote hisses, and dissolves, and pulls itself away, unable to bear the very cure it was never made to survive. That is exactly why Venom and Carnage — the two scariest symbiotes in all of New York City — both step back and shiver when Eddie draws near.

But being the anti-symbiote, dear one, is not his only gift.

For Eddie kept all the wonderful powers that the goo is famous for, too.

He is tremendously strong. Strong enough to bend a heavy steel door, or to lift a fallen beam off of someone who is trapped underneath. Hrrrngh — up it goes!

He can crawl straight up the side of a tall skyscraper, sticking to smooth glass and rough brick just as easily as a little spider climbs a garden wall. Up, and up, and up.

He can fire strong white webbing from his hands — thwip! — to swing across the glittering skyline, or to gently snare a crook who is trying to run away.

And — this is my favorite — he can shape-shift his living goo. He can flatten himself and change his color to match a wall or melt into a shadow, until it seems he has vanished into thin air. Now you see him. Now you don't.

All of this makes Anti-Venom a mighty hero indeed.

But even mighty heroes have limits, dear one. And Eddie's limit is a very important one to remember.

His greatest gift of all — the healing, and the curing, and the melting away of other symbiotes — is not endless.

Every single time he uses it, the white power inside him runs a little bit lower. It is like a flashlight that grows dimmer and dimmer as its battery slowly drains. If Eddie cures too much, too quickly, the warm glow begins to sputter and fade, leaving him tired and ordinary, until he stops to rest and the light slowly, slowly refills.

And so Anti-Venom must be clever.

He cannot simply blast every problem with his cure, the way another hero might throw punch after punch after punch. No. He must choose his moments with care. He must save his strength. He must use his precious gift only where it counts the very most.

And do you know what that does, dear one?

It makes him thoughtful. It makes him patient. And it makes his power feel less like a weapon, and more like a treasure — something rare and precious, something to be guarded and cherished and never, ever wasted.

For that is the secret of the greatest gifts of all. The ones we cannot use endlessly are the ones we learn to use most wisely.

So close your eyes now, little one, and let your thoughts grow soft and slow.

Somewhere in the great city, a gentle white hero is resting too, letting his quiet light fill slowly back up, saving it for the person who will need it next.

Goodnight, Anti-Venom. Goodnight, brave and thoughtful healer. Sleep well.