Not So Friendly Anymore

The corridors of the Wakandan prison were eerily silent, save for the soft hum of the vibranium-powered lights. Peter walked beside T'Challa, his steps measured and purposeful, while the King of Wakanda exuded his usual air of calm authority. They were heading toward the interrogation room, where Taskmaster awaited them.

"You've done me a great service, Peter," T'Challa began, his voice low but sincere. "Without your help, Hydra's plans could have brought devastation to Wakanda. For that, I am grateful."

Peter glanced at him, his mask retracted to reveal his face. His expression was neutral, almost bored. "You don't need to thank me for doing my job, T'Challa," he replied evenly. "Stopping Hydra is what I do. Whether it's in Wakanda, or New York, they're the same scum to me."

T'Challa chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Still, your efficiency is something to be admired. Your methods... perhaps a little less so."

Peter smirked but didn't respond. The two walked in silence for a moment before T'Challa spoke again, his tone turning serious.

"Do you think you can make Taskmaster talk?"

Peter's smirk widened into something sharper, colder. "Oh, he'll talk," he said, his voice carrying a dark edge. "By the time I'm done, he'll be singing like a canary." He glanced sideways at T'Challa, his tone turning grimly humorous. "I can't promise he'll have all his limbs attached, though."

T'Challa paused for a moment, then chuckled again, though there was no humor in it this time. "As long as there's enough of him left to answer my questions, I don't particularly care what condition he's in."

Peter's eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam in them as he nodded. "Good. I work better without limits."

They reached the heavy vibranium doors of the interrogation room, where two Dora Milaje stood guard. With a subtle gesture from T'Challa, the doors slid open, revealing the sterile, dimly lit chamber beyond.

Taskmaster sat in the center of the room, his arms and legs shackled to a vibranium chair. His mask had been stripped away, revealing his bruised and bloodied face. His eyes flicked between Peter and T'Challa, the flicker of unease barely masked by his trademark bravado.

T'Challa stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back as he addressed Taskmaster with a calm, commanding voice. "This can be easy," he began. "Tell me what Hydra is planning, and I will ensure you walk out of here alive and unharmed. Wakanda has no interest in keeping you, Taskmaster. We want information, nothing more."

Taskmaster scoffed, leaning back as far as his restraints would allow. "Yeah? And what if I don't feel like talking, Your Highness?" He sneered, his tone laced with mockery. "What're you gonna do? Lecture me to death?"

T'Challa remained impassive, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "If you do not cooperate, we will have to resort to more... unpleasant methods of persuasion," he said evenly.

Taskmaster's sneer deepened, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "You don't scare me. Neither of you do. I've fought gods, kings, and monsters. You're just another name on the list."

T'Challa's faint smile transformed into something colder, sharper. The kind of smile that sent a shiver of primal fear down Taskmaster's spine despite his bravado. "Good," T'Challa said, his voice like steel. "I would have hated to disappoint my friend here."

He turned to Peter, who stood silently by the wall, the faint writhing of the symbiote adding to his menacing presence. "Do whatever you must," T'Challa said calmly, his tone final. Without another word, he turned and left the room, the heavy vibranium doors sliding shut behind him.

Peter stepped forward, cracking his knuckles, a dark grin forming beneath his mask. He tilted his head, his gaze locked on Taskmaster. "Well," he said, his voice carrying a dark humor. "This is where things get interesting."

Taskmaster glared at him, his defiance still intact. "You think you can scare me, Spider? I've fought you before. You're nothing but a—"

"Save it," Peter interrupted, his grin widening. "We both know how this is gonna go."

He paused, his tone suddenly playful as he turned slightly, addressing no one in the room but somehow locking eyes with the reader. "Oh, hey, you," he said with a smirk beneath his mask. "Yeah, you. The one reading this. If you've got a weak stomach, now's the time to bail. Seriously, it's about to get... well, messy doesn't even begin to cover it."

Turning back to Taskmaster, Peter's grin turned cold, and the room seemed to grow darker. "Let's get started, shall we?"

---

(If you don't like torture scenes, skip ahead)

Peter stepped forward, the room filled with the sound of his footsteps and the faint hum of the symbiote moving across his form. He towered over Taskmaster, his expression cold and unfeeling beneath his mask.

"Let's cut the theatrics," Peter said, voice low and laced with menace. "You're going to tell me what I want to know. Or you're going to wish you did."

Taskmaster laughed weakly, though his voice trembled. "You think I'm scared of you, Spider? You don't have the guts to do what needs to be done."

Peter's fist shot forward, connecting with Taskmaster's jaw with a sickening crack. Blood and a tooth sprayed from his mouth, splattering onto the floor. Taskmaster's head lolled to the side, groaning in pain.

"Still feeling brave?" Peter asked, flexing his fingers.

Taskmaster tried to speak, but Peter didn't wait. Another punch followed, and then another. The sound of flesh meeting bone echoed through the room as Peter systematically worked him over, leaving his face bruised and swollen.

When Taskmaster didn't answer, Peter stepped back, breathing heavily, and then drove a swift kick into his left knee. A loud crunch echoed as the leg bent grotesquely in the wrong direction. Taskmaster screamed, his cries reverberating off the walls.

"That's one," Peter said coldly. "You've got another leg. Let's see how sturdy it is."

"No! No, wait—" Taskmaster's pleas were cut off as Peter brought his heel down on the other knee, snapping it just as viciously. Taskmaster wailed, his head thrashing against the chair's backrest.

"You ready to talk yet?" Peter asked, leaning down to look Taskmaster in the eye.

"I—I don't know! I swear!" Taskmaster sobbed, his face slick with blood and tears.

Peter narrowed his eyes, the symbiote bristling across his body. "Wrong answer."

He grabbed Taskmaster's right arm, gripping it tightly before driving a savage kick into the elbow, snapping it with ease. Taskmaster shrieked in agony as Peter methodically began breaking the smaller bones in the arm, one by one. Each crack was punctuated by Taskmaster's screams.

"Still lying?" Peter asked, moving to the other arm.

"I'll talk! I'll talk!" Taskmaster shouted, his voice a choked sob.

Peter paused, his tone calm. "Then start singing. Where's Hydra's next move?"

"Th-they're... They're planning to move reinforcements to the city perimeter," Taskmaster stammered, tears streaming down his face.

Peter nodded, his voice sharp. "And Klaw? Where is he?"

Taskmaster's sobbing grew louder, and he stayed silent.

Peter's face twisted with fury, the symbiote forming a jagged maw where his mouth should be. He leaned close, his voice a thunderous roar. "WHERE IS HE?"

Taskmaster cried harder, his body trembling. His bladder gave way, and the smell of urine filled the air.

Peter sighed in disgust. "Pathetic." He placed his hand on Taskmaster's face, allowing the symbiote to extend slender, black tentacles into his nose and mouth. Taskmaster gagged and flailed wildly as his airway was disrupted, his cries muffled.

After a moment, Peter retracted the tentacles, and Taskmaster gasped for air, coughing violently. "Please, stop! Klaw, he's at the Temple of Bast! He's planning to desecrate it! That's all I know! I swear!"

Peter stood over Taskmaster's mangled, sobbing form, his breaths coming in deep, heavy bursts as the weight of the mercenary's words sank in. The Temple of Bast.

Why did that strike a nerve? Why did hearing those words, those specific words, ignite something in him so visceral that even the symbiote recoiled for a moment? Peter clenched his fists, feeling the rage churn in his chest like a storm. He didn't understand it, but the thought of Klaw desecrating the temple felt like a personal insult, like something deep within him screamed at the audacity of such an act.

"Why am I so angry?" Peter muttered under his breath, the symbiote responding with a low, guttural hiss that didn't provide an answer. It wasn't like him to feel this connected to something so far removed from his life in New York. And yet, the idea of Klaw defiling such a sacred place felt... wrong. Not just wrong, but unforgivable.

Taskmaster whimpered on the ground, his trembling body barely able to form coherent words. The mercenary's face was a mask of pain and terror, streaked with blood and tears.

Peter crouched low, his eyes narrowing beneath the mask as his hand shot out and grabbed Taskmaster's remaining intact arm. The mercenary flinched, his swollen, tear-streaked face begging for mercy.

Peter's voice was low, cold, but laced with barely restrained fury. "You don't even understand what you've done, do you? What he's planning? Tell me, why the Temple of Bast?"

Taskmaster groaned, his voice shaky as he tried to form words through the overwhelming pain. "It's... it's not me, man. I'm just a gun for hire. Klaw... Klaw's the one who..." He trailed off, choking on his words.

"That's not good enough," Peter snapped, his fingers tightening around Taskmaster's wrist. The symbiote slithered along Peter's arm, its tendrils brushing against Taskmaster's skin, sending a new wave of panic through him.

Peter pressed on. "What's the plan? Why desecrate the temple? What's the angle?"

Taskmaster shook his head violently, tears streaming down his battered face. "It's... it's just to send a message! He thinks it'll break Wakanda's spirit. I don't know the details! I swear!"

Peter's rage only deepened, though the logic of Taskmaster's answer made sense. But why did he care so much? He wasn't Wakandan, and yet the very idea of Klaw walking into that sacred place and defiling it made his blood boil. It wasn't just the act, it was the audacity.

Peter stood, his grip on Taskmaster's arm tightening. His voice dropped into a low growl. "You think that's enough for me to let you off the hook? That's going to cost you."

Before Taskmaster could react, Peter's foot came down hard on his already broken arm, sending a fresh wave of excruciating pain ripping through the mercenary's body. The shattered bone shifted under the pressure, eliciting a bloodcurdling scream that echoed through the sterile room. Taskmaster's entire body convulsed as tears streamed down his face, the agony leaving him gasping for air.

Peter leaned in, his voice low and sharp. "Hurts, doesn't it? Now... where is Klaw?"

Taskmaster convulsed, his body writhing as he struggled to breathe through the pain. "T-The Temple!" he finally gasped out. "The Temple of Bast... He's already there! Please, I swear I don't know anything else!"

Peter watched him for a long moment, the mercenary sobbing uncontrollably. He could sense the truth in Taskmaster's words. But the rage still bubbled beneath the surface, demanding an outlet.

"Too little, too late," Peter muttered, his symbiote forming jagged tendrils along his arms. One lashed out, grabbing Taskmaster by the throat and slamming him into the chair. Another wrapped around his intact arm.

"Wait! I told you everything! Please, don't—!"

The symbiote tightened, and with a sharp, horrifying motion, Peter tore Taskmaster's unbroken arm from its socket. The mercenary screamed, a sound so raw and primal that even Peter hesitated for a fraction of a second. Blood splattered across the floor as Taskmaster collapsed, barely conscious.

Peter turned away, the symbiote retracting as he fought to steady his breathing. The rage hadn't dissipated, but he forced himself to focus. Taskmaster had given him the answer he needed.

"Rest up," Peter said coldly, not bothering to look back at the broken man on the floor. "You'll need the energy for what T'Challa has planned for you."

With that, he strode out of the room, his fists still clenched as he marched to find T'Challa. The anger within him simmered, unanswered and unresolved, but he pushed it aside. There was no time to dwell on his emotions, not while Klaw was defiling Wakanda's history.

---

Peter stormed out of the interrogation room, his anger still bubbling under the surface. The mere idea of Klaw desecrating the Temple of Bast struck a nerve he couldn't quite place. It wasn't just offensive, it felt personal, as though something deep within him had been wounded. His fists clenched tightly as he walked with purpose toward the strategy room.

Entering the room, Peter found T'Challa and Shuri already deep in conversation. Shuri's expression was fierce, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke. T'Challa stood tall, exuding his usual composure, but the tightness in his jaw betrayed the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.

"Peter," T'Challa greeted, turning toward him. "What did you learn?"

Peter wasted no time. "Taskmaster cracked," he said, his voice sharp. "Klaw's planning to invade the Temple of Bast. He's going to desecrate it, probably as some kind of insult to Wakanda. If we don't stop him, he'll defile one of the most sacred places in your country."

T'Challa's calm demeanor faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing as a flicker of anger passed over his face. Beside him, Shuri let out an audible growl of frustration, her fists tightening at her sides.

"That bastard," Shuri spat. "He dares to violate our temple? Our history?!"

Peter nodded grimly. "He's not just violating your history. He's doing this to send a message to the world. He wants to prove Wakanda isn't untouchable. If he pulls this off, it's going to stain more than just your temple."

Shuri took a step forward, her voice rising. "Then we don't wait. We find him, and we end this. I'll lead the charge myself—"

"Shuri," T'Challa interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. "No. Charging in blindly is exactly what Klaw wants. He's expecting an emotional response, not a strategic one."

Shuri turned to her brother, her expression fierce. "You're telling me to wait while he marches on the temple? You want me to plan while he desecrates our heritage?!"

"I am telling you," T'Challa said evenly, though his voice carried a dangerous edge, "that we will not allow him to dictate the terms of this fight. He expects you to act on your anger. Do not give him that satisfaction."

Peter interjected, stepping between them. "T'Challa's right. If we let our emotions take over, we'll walk right into whatever trap Klaw's set. We need to be smart about this."

Shuri glared at Peter, her fiery temper refusing to cool. "And you think I don't understand that? That I don't care about protecting my people?"

Peter held up his hands in a calming gesture. "No, I think you care a hell of a lot. That's why we have to do this right. You go in angry, you risk losing more than just the temple."

T'Challa nodded, placing a steadying hand on Shuri's shoulder. "Peter is correct. We cannot afford to make mistakes. Klaw will regret stepping foot in Wakanda, but we will ensure that regret is thorough and final."

Shuri reluctantly relented, though her fury was still palpable. "Fine," she muttered. "But we'd better move fast."

"Hydra's forces will undoubtedly try to slow us down," T'Challa explained. "But with the Wakandan army supporting us, we can break through their lines."

"Once we reach the temple," Natasha said, her tone practical, "we'll need to secure the perimeter before confronting Klaw. If he's got a backup plan, we can't let him trigger it."

Peter, arms crossed, added, "We should expect resistance to get heavier the closer we get to the temple. Hydra won't make this easy, but at least we'll have the firepower to back us up now."

The group nodded in agreement, but Clint Barton, leaning casually against the wall, couldn't resist throwing in a snide comment. "Firepower's great and all, but I'd love to see what you do, Parker, if you run out of all that symbiote nonsense. Maybe we'll finally see if you're worth a damn without it."

The room fell silent, tension crackling like static. Peter's head snapped toward Clint, his eyes narrowing behind his mask. He didn't say anything at first, but the simmering anger from earlier began to boil over.

Without warning, Peter backhanded Clint hard enough to send him sprawling across the floor. The archer slammed into a nearby wall with a thud, groaning in pain as he clutched his jaw.

"You really don't know when to shut up, do you, Barton?" Peter said, his voice low and venomous. He stalked toward Clint, towering over him as the others watched in stunned silence.

Peter leaned in slightly, his voice sharp and cutting. "You know, I've been wondering for a while now: What exactly do you bring to this team? You're a guy with a bow and arrow playing in the big leagues. You're not even second-string. You're dead weight."

Clint's face paled, his expression twisting into one of shock and humiliation. His lips quivered as tears began to well in his eyes.

"Peter," Natasha said cautiously, stepping forward, but Peter waved her off.

"Save it, Nat," Peter said coldly. "He wanted to mouth off. Now he gets to deal with the consequences."

Thor, who had been watching with a mix of amusement and concern, finally stepped in, placing a heavy hand on Peter's shoulder. "Friend Peter," Thor said with a chuckle, "while it's entertaining to see Barton reminded of his place, perhaps we should focus on the matter at hand. Klaw awaits, after all."

Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly to calm himself. He glanced at Thor, then nodded. "You're right," he said, his voice losing some of its edge.

He turned on his heel and strode out of the room without another glance at Clint, who was left trembling and softly sobbing on the floor.

As the tension in the room began to settle, the group returned to planning their next move. The map of Wakanda was projected in the center of the table, showing the paths Hydra forces could use to fortify their position at the Temple of Bast. T'Challa outlined the routes they would need to secure, while Natasha and Clint, despite his bruised pride, added tactical suggestions.

"We'll need to split the Wakandan forces into two main groups," T'Challa explained. "One to hold Hydra's reinforcements at bay, and another to clear the path to the temple. The Avengers will lead the vanguard."

Peter leaned against the table, arms crossed, his mask hiding the tension in his jaw. "Once we're inside, we have to take Klaw alive. No arguments."

T'Challa regarded Peter with a sharp look, understanding the weight behind his words. After a beat, he nodded. "Agreed. Klaw's capture is essential if we are to uncover the larger threat at play."

Peter gave a slight nod, though the anger in his chest continued to simmer. He couldn't shake the deep, inexplicable fury the thought of Klaw's plan evoked in him. It felt primal, as if something ancient inside him demanded justice.

Before they could finalize the details, a piercing alarm blared through the room. Shuri immediately activated the holographic interface, displaying a live feed of the palace grounds.

A Hydra attack chopper loomed in the sky, its sleek black frame bristling with weaponry. The Wakandan defenses activated, raising vibranium shields around the palace, but the helicopter launched a barrage of missiles glowing with a strange, pulsing energy.

"Those are sonic missiles!" Shuri exclaimed. "They're designed to penetrate vibranium shielding!"

The missiles struck the shields, unleashing a deafening, vibrating explosion that shattered the protective barriers. The shockwave hurtled toward the team, threatening to engulf them.

Peter reacted instinctively, his body morphing as the symbiote surged outward. A massive black mass enveloped the group, forming an impenetrable barrier around them. The sonic blast hammered against the symbiote, causing it to writhe and ripple.

Peter gritted his teeth as pain ripped through him. The vibrations from the sonic weapons resonated in every nerve, the symbiote writhing and recoiling in agony. He had used the symbiote's weakness to sound countless times in the past when fighting Eddie, exploiting it to gain the upper hand. But he'd done it so often that the Venom symbiote had begun to develop a tolerance, a kind of immunity to typical sonic attacks.

But this... this was something else entirely.

The sheer force of Hydra's sonic weapons was overwhelming, tearing through the symbiote like nothing he'd ever encountered.

He clenched his fists, his mind racing. 'If Stark or Pym figure out what these weapons can do... no. Can't give them any ideas. Not now.' Swallowing the pain, Peter forced himself to stand straighter, hiding the strain on his body. He wouldn't let them see how much it hurt, not Hydra, not his allies.

As the blast subsided, the black mass around the group began to retract, pulling back into Peter's body. He fell to one knee, gasping for breath.

"Are you alright?" T'Challa asked, kneeling beside him and helping him back to his feet.

"I'm fine," Peter lied, though his body ached from the assault. He shook his head to clear it, forcing himself to stand. "Just didn't expect them to have something that nasty."

Before anyone could say more, a flash of light streaked through the sky. Thor, already airborne, hurled Mjolnir with a mighty roar. The hammer struck the chopper with a deafening boom, sending it spiraling out of control. Lightning crackled across the sky as Thor unleashed his fury, blasting the chopper out of the air. It exploded in a brilliant fireball, raining debris across the palace grounds.

Thor landed gracefully near the group, his cape billowing behind him. "A minor nuisance," he said with a smirk. "Is everyone unharmed?"

"We're fine," T'Challa replied, his eyes scanning the wreckage. "But this attack was no coincidence. Hydra knows we're coming."

"Let them," Peter said coldly, his voice hardening. "It won't save them."

T'Challa nodded solemnly. "We'll need to accelerate our plans. Shuri, mobilize the army. We march for the temple at first light."

Peter glanced at the shattered remnants of the vibranium shielding, then back to the others. His anger flared again, the thought of Klaw's desecration fueling his resolve. "First light works," he said, his voice low. "But if they try that sonic crap again, I'm not holding back."

"No one expects you to," T'Challa said, his voice firm. "Klaw will answer for his crimes. And he will regret ever setting foot in Wakanda."

The group dispersed to prepare, but Peter lingered for a moment, his fists clenched. The pain from the sonic blast still lingered, but it wasn't the pain that consumed him, it was the anger. The deep, inexplicable anger that Klaw's actions had ignited.

'Why does this feel so personal?' he wondered, staring out at the horizon where the temple lay. He didn't have an answer, but one thing was clear: when they reached Klaw, he wouldn't just stop him, he'd make him pay.

---

Next Day

The sun had barely risen over Wakanda, its golden light bathing the land in a tranquil glow that belied the storm brewing within its borders. Peter sat on the edge of his bed, pulling his mask over his face. His fists clenched involuntarily as the memory of Klaw's plan to desecrate the Temple of Bast replayed in his mind.

He didn't understand the depth of his rage. It wasn't just anger, it was something primal, buried deep inside him. Every fiber of his being demanded retribution, but the why eluded him.

Shaking off the thought, Peter stepped out of his room, his movements sharp and purposeful. It wasn't long before he met Thor, Hulk, and the rest of the Avengers in the central courtyard.

"Ready to tear some Hydra goons apart?" Hulk rumbled, cracking his massive knuckles.

Peter nodded. "More than ready."

Iron Man's helmet folded back, revealing Tony's face. "Let's just make sure we get through this without burning down the palace, huh? Vibranium repairs aren't cheap."

"Don't worry," Peter replied coldly, "I'll leave the property damage to you, Stark."

Before Tony could respond, T'Challa and Shuri approached, flanked by the elite Dora Milaje. Behind them stood the assembled Wakandan army, a vast and awe-inspiring force. Warriors clad in vibranium armor, carrying spears and shields, stood shoulder to shoulder, their expressions steely and resolute.

T'Challa climbed a small platform at the front of the gathering, his gaze sweeping across the sea of soldiers. His voice was firm, regal, and filled with unshakable determination as he began to speak.

"Brothers! Sisters! Today, we defend not only our land but our history, our honor, and our very identity! Hydra seeks to desecrate the Temple of Bast, to insult our ancestors and mock the heart of Wakanda itself. We will not allow it!"

A resounding cheer erupted from the army, their voices uniting in a roar that echoed through the courtyard.

T'Challa raised a hand, silencing them. "They think they can trample on sacred ground and walk away unscathed. They think they can break our spirit. Let us show them the price of their arrogance!"

Shuri stepped forward, her expression fierce. "For Wakanda! For Bast! For our people!"

The warriors roared again, their spears clashing against their shields in unison.

T'Challa turned to the Avengers. "We march together. The Temple of Bast lies at the heart of our land, and so does this battle. Each of you is here because you understand what it means to protect something greater than yourselves."

Peter crossed his arms, his eyes glowing faintly beneath his mask as he muttered to himself, "Damn right."

The team exchanged nods of agreement. Peter, Thor, Hulk, Iron Man, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Giant-Man, She-Hulk, and the Wakandan warriors began to prepare for the march. The tension was palpable, but so was the resolve.

"Let's move," T'Challa commanded, stepping down from the platform.

Peter fell into step beside him, his mind sharp, his anger simmering just below the surface. Whatever awaited them at the Temple of Bast, Klaw wouldn't walk away from this unscathed, not if Peter had anything to say about it.

---

The Wakandan army and Avengers marched through the dense jungles of Wakanda, their resolve unshaken despite the looming battle ahead. The silence of the march was shattered when they reached a Hydra checkpoint, a barricade of armored vehicles, soldiers, and sonic cannons.

Thor grinned, twirling Mjolnir in his hand. "Finally, some action! I was beginning to think Hydra had lost their nerve."

"Don't worry," Peter quipped, flexing his fingers as the symbiote curled around his fists, forming jagged claws. "I'll make sure they remember who they're messing with."

The Hydra forces opened fire, their weapons lighting up the battlefield.

"Go!" T'Challa roared, charging forward with the Dora Milaje at his side.

The battle erupted in chaos. Thor flew into the fray, unleashing a devastating lightning strike that turned a Hydra tank into molten slag.

"Hey, Spider!" Thor called, landing beside Peter as they fought their way through the soldiers. "How about a contest? Who can take down more of these fools?"

Peter dodged a blast from a sonic rifle and webbed the soldier, yanking him into another Hydra agent. "Careful, Thunder Boy, I don't want to embarrass you in front of your fans."

Thor laughed heartily, smashing another soldier with Mjolnir.

Hulk, in the middle of tearing apart a Hydra mech, overheard them. "You both lose. Hulk smash the most!"

"Sure, big guy," Peter shot back, flipping over a Hydra soldier and webbing two more to the ground. "Quantity doesn't count if it's sloppy!"

As the fight raged on, She-Hulk landed beside Peter, her fists glowing with green energy as she slammed them into the ground, sending a shockwave that scattered Hydra soldiers.

"Not bad, Walters," Peter said flatly, not even glancing her way as he focused on webbing up a Hydra turret.

"Peter," She-Hulk began, her tone concerned, "are we—"

"Busy," Peter cut her off, swinging away to assist T'Challa without another word.

She-Hulk frowned, her frustration visible, but she didn't pursue the conversation further.

Meanwhile, Black Widow called out to Peter from across the battlefield. "Spider, cover the left flank!"

Peter ignored her, leaping onto a Hydra tank and ripping its turret off before tossing it into the jungle.

Clint, perched on a ledge and firing arrows, shouted, "Hey, Webhead! Maybe listen to the people who actually know how to fight wars?"

Peter stopped mid-swing, turned, and shot a web that stuck Clint's bow to a tree. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were contributing. Maybe you could fetch coffee instead?"

"Real mature!" Clint shouted, but Peter was already gone, focusing on the next wave of enemies.

Iron Man flew overhead, blasting Hydra drones out of the sky. "Focus, kid. Save the sarcasm for later."

Peter glared at him. "Thanks for the advice, Stark. Maybe if you focused less on your ego, Hydra wouldn't have stolen half your tech."

"Charming," Tony muttered, blasting another drone.

Nearby, Giant-Man swatted away a group of soldiers, but Peter couldn't resist. "Hey, Pym! Watch your step. Wouldn't want you to trip over your own mediocrity."

Hank scowled but said nothing, too focused on the battle.

As the Hydra forces thinned out, the team regrouped near the steps leading to the Temple of Bast. The imposing structure loomed ahead, surrounded by fortified Hydra defenses and waves of reinforcements pouring in from the jungle.

"There are too many of them," Natasha observed, reloading her pistols.

T'Challa nodded, assessing the battlefield. "We'll hold them here. But someone needs to get inside and stop Klaw."

Peter stepped forward. "I'll go."

T'Challa placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. "You won't face him alone. I'm coming with you."

The two exchanged a look of mutual respect, their shared determination unspoken but clear.

Thor stepped up, readying Mjolnir. "The rest of us will keep these pests busy. Go, my friends. We'll handle the rabble."

Peter smirked beneath his mask. "Try not to have too much fun without me."

As the Wakandan army and Avengers engaged the remaining Hydra forces outside, Peter and T'Challa slipped through the chaos, their sights set on the temple. The air grew heavier with each step, the sacred ground radiating a silent power that only deepened Peter's anger.

Something inside him stirred, a protective instinct he couldn't explain. Klaw's desecration of this place wasn't just an insult to Wakanda. It felt personal. And Peter was determined to make him pay.

The air inside the Temple of Bast was stifling, the ancient stone walls bearing silent witness to the clash of ideologies and destinies. Peter and T'Challa moved through the dark corridors with precision, dispatching the Hydra soldiers guarding the inner sanctum with deadly efficiency.

Peter's fists struck with brutal force, each blow driven by a simmering rage he still couldn't place. Meanwhile, T'Challa fought with measured precision, his claws rending through Hydra armor with surgical strikes.

They finally reached the central chamber, where Klaw stood at the controls of a massive device, a grotesque amalgamation of Wakandan technology and Hydra's twisted designs. The weapon pulsed with energy, a low hum vibrating through the temple like the heartbeat of some monstrous beast.

Klaw turned to face them, a smug grin plastered across his face. "Ah, the king and the spider. Just in time to witness history. This sonic weapon will do what no army or outsider could, reduce Wakanda to rubble."

Peter's fists clenched. "You're insane if you think we'll let you pull this off."

Klaw laughed, the sound grating and arrogant. "You don't have a choice, Spider-Man. I've already won. Even if you stop me, the weapon's discharge will level this entire temple, and everyone in it."

T'Challa stepped forward, his voice a low growl. "You desecrate the Temple of Bast with your presence, Klaw. You will be begging for mercy when I'm done with you."

"Big words from a dead man," Klaw sneered, activating the weapon.

The ensuing fight was a blur of motion and chaos. Klaw fired bursts of sonic energy from his arm cannon, the blasts echoing through the chamber and shaking its very foundation. Peter and T'Challa fought in perfect tandem, dodging and countering with relentless precision.

Peter webbed Klaw's arm, yanking him off balance as T'Challa leaped in with a devastating claw strike to Klaw's chest. The villain stumbled, but recovered quickly, his cannon spinning to unleash a wide sonic wave. Both heroes dove out of the way, the blast carving deep gouges into the stone walls.

"You can't win!" Klaw roared, charging the weapon further. "This is my legacy!"

As the fight dragged on, Klaw's cannon swiveled to aim directly at T'Challa. The king, mid-leap, had no time to dodge.

Peter's instincts took over. Without hesitation, he leaped in front of the blast.

The sonic wave struck Peter full force.

Peter screamed as the sound tore through him, his body convulsing under the onslaught. The symbiote shrieked in agony, its liquid form writhing and peeling away from his skin in black tendrils. He fell to his knees, clutching his head as the pain became unbearable.

T'Challa shouted Peter's name, his voice barely audible over the deafening blast.

Suddenly, the eyes of the Bast statues in the chamber began to glow with a radiant purple light. The entire room seemed to hum with a deep, resonant energy.

Far away, deep in the Wakandan wilderness, another temple, this one adorned with a massive emblem of a spider, came to life for the first time in centuries. Its long-dormant mechanisms began to hum, the ancient structure glowing faintly with golden and purple light.

Back in the chamber, Peter screamed as something deep within him broke free. His body erupted with golden lightning, twin arcs of energy shooting from his eyes and encasing him in a protective barrier. The sonic wave dissipated harmlessly against the shield, and Peter rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet primal.

Klaw froze, his bravado replaced by terror. "What, what is this?"

Peter didn't answer. Guided by instinct, he raised his hands, and bolts of golden energy shot from his palms, obliterating the sonic weapon in a brilliant explosion. The chamber shook violently, debris raining down as the machine disintegrated into a smoldering heap.

The glow around Peter faded, and he staggered, visibly drained. T'Challa, still shocked, caught Klaw off guard with a swift strike, disarming him and leaving him defenseless.

Peter, breathing heavily, walked up to Klaw and ripped the sonic cannon off his arm with ease, tossing it aside. "I'm keeping this," he muttered, his voice low and hoarse.

T'Challa moved to Peter's side, his eyes narrowing. "Do you know what just happened?"

Peter shook his head, his voice slurred. "No... no idea..." His knees buckled, and his body went limp.

T'Challa caught him before he hit the ground. "Peter!"

The symbiote receded, retreating into Peter's body as he blacked out from the strain.

T'Challa lowered him gently, his face etched with concern. "Hold on, my friend," he said softly, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.

Thanks for reading everyone

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