Symbiotic Agent

The scenario Holm had feared didn't materialize. The girl seemed to have heard his warning, moving to the other side of the passage in silence. When she finally stepped out of the cramped cell and stood upright, she leaned over, gazing at Holm, who was starting to clean up the mess across the passage. She said softly, "I haven't had the chance to thank you yet. Thank you for your help. My name's Gwen Stacy."

Gwen's gratitude and introduction caught Holm off guard for a moment. Recovering, he gave her a nod, responding, "You're welcome, Gwen. My name is Holm Clint."

"Hurry on out now. I'll handle things here," he urged gently.

"I understand," Gwen replied, nodding with a small smile.

She had already decided on her next steps. She would follow Holm's instructions and leave as Gwen, but she'd be back shortly as Spider-Woman. Spider-Woman, she reasoned, wouldn't be seen as a troublemaker. Just as she prepared to move, Holm's voice floated over again, teasing her: "By the way, you should lay off the drinking. You're still young, after all."

Upon hearing his light-hearted scolding, Gwen's face flushed in annoyance, and she called back to him, voice tinged with embarrassment, "You jerk! I told you it was just juice!"

Holm's laughter echoed, growing fainter as he continued with his work. Frustrated but amused, Gwen shook her fist at the air as if Holm stood right before her. Not lingering any longer, she sprinted down the passage, following Holm's directions to escape. She'd be back soon enough.

On the other side of the passage, Holm was carefully closing an open iron gate, securing it to prevent the lizardmen from spotting anything suspicious.

"Why waste your energy with all this? Just kill them when they come by," Venom muttered, voice thick as he savored a piece of chocolate. The foul smell from outside had faded, and with everyone else gone, Venom eagerly unwrapped his treat, munching away.

Holm shrugged at Venom's remark. "True, but we can't let them see that something's wrong right off the bat. Killing them takes time," he replied, glancing around as he worked. "If they sense something is amiss as soon as they arrive, they'll be alert—and we could risk them calling for backup."

He took out his phone, checked his position, and resent his coordinates to Daisy. She'd already notified S.H.I.E.L.D. and requested support from the tactical team, as per their plan. Reinforcements should arrive soon.

All Holm needed to do now was release the next wave of captives and leave the hard work to the well-equipped S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives, who could introduce the lizardmen to a few rounds of modern weaponry.

Thick skin? Not a problem.

Sharp teeth and claws? Bring it on.

Immense strength? Let's see what you got.

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gear was designed for defiance like this. If one shot didn't work, they'd just continue to hit harder.

Holm continued to clean up traces and take precautions as he thought through the plan. Once he'd finished his preparations, he hid in a shadowed corner, remaining alert. Before long, he sensed movement up ahead.

Sure enough, it was the two lizardmen, Eisen and Neil, whose presence Holm had sensed. The pair were wheeling in a large cage-like cart filled with people—men, women, even children, some barely reaching Holm's waist, others old and hunched, faces creased with wrinkles and grey hair.

If the last lizardman who had taken Gwen had focused on gender, these two seemed to have cast their net across all age groups. Among the prisoners, one figure in particular stood out: a middle-aged man with graying hair and a mustache, eyes blazing defiantly as he scowled at the lizardman beside him.

"You filthy reptile!" he bellowed, rage vibrating through his words. "You'll regret ever catching me!"

"Do you even know who I am? J. Jonah Jameson! My family will call the police—they're probably on their way already! Just wait till they get here!" He jabbed a finger in the air, his indignation unrelenting. "I'll make sure the world knows all about you freaks—and your twisted plans to replace humans!"

"Bang!"

A loud crash cut off Jameson's tirade as Neil, visibly irked, slammed his fist against the cage's metal bars, denting them.

The noise jarred Jameson, who looked wide-eyed at the newly-formed dent and then at Neil's fierce, yellow eyes, which burned with a dangerous light. A flicker of true fear crossed Jameson's face as he took in the lizardman's intensity.

"Think I won't kill you, old man? You think we went through all this trouble to keep you safe?" Neil sneered, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. "If you didn't still have some use left, I'd tear you to pieces right now!"

He jabbed a sharp claw at Jameson, close enough to make his point but holding back just enough to stay within the bars. "Your decrepit old body couldn't withstand a flick from one of my claws!" His voice echoed down the passage, sending shivers through the onlookers.

At that, Jameson's confidence crumbled. The boldness he had shown only moments before melted into silence as Neil's bestial yellow eyes bored into him. With his sharp teeth bared and claws resting just inches from the cage, the fear was palpable in Jameson's eyes. This was no empty threat; Neil looked as if he might really kill him if he dared say another word.

Still, Jameson's pride wouldn't let him back down entirely. He muttered softly under his breath, barely audible, a small act of defiance that gave him a shred of comfort, though he hoped Neil wouldn't catch it.

Seeing Jameson's self-deceiving mutter, Eisen, who stood beside Neil, grinned and let out a cold chuckle.

"It's best if you rid yourself of that disgusting human pride," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "It'll only bring you more misery in the days to come."

Eisen leaned closer, voice filled with contempt as he went on. "Soon, you'll watch helplessly as every last human is replaced by us, the lizardmen."

"The lizardmen will do what you humans can't. We possess strength, intelligence, and none of your worthless, shallow emotions," he continued with a cold smirk. "Our reign is natural—inevitable."

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