The truck's headlights illuminated the dim street, tracing a perfect arc around the corner. The instant the barrier arm's light came on, a gauzy beam swept across the name engraved on the factory gates—"ACE Chemical Plant."
Urgent raindrops kept hammering against the roof of the cargo compartment. In a corner of the sealed truck bed, two figures with their arms bound behind their backs huddled together. As the vehicle jolted along, the light spilling through the door crack swept over their faces again and again.
"What exactly did you make him take?" Poison Ivy looked at Peter with a complicated expression, shifting her bound arms again to let the blood circulate properly.
"You can think of it as a living drug." Peter kept staring at the light leaking through the door crack. His illuminated lashes looked like blades. "At first, it lurks inside a person's body completely undetected, then gradually influences their mind through its own traits."
"So is it a living thing or a drug?"
"A living thing." Peter looked at Poison Ivy. "An intelligent species called a Symbiote. It has a mind, can communicate, and primarily survives through parasitism."
Poison Ivy shuddered, but Peter continued, "The greatest trait of this life-form is that it can perfectly inherit the personality traits of its previous host and quietly influence its next host."
"Red Bee has been inside me for a long time, so even if the other person is an utterly vile villain, all we need to do is wait. Eventually, he'll grow a conscience."
"You have a conscience?!" Poison Ivy said in heartfelt indignation. "You destroyed Gotham just a few dozen minutes ago! Compared to you, Scarecrow is downright conservative! Even Joker isn't as quick and efficient as you!"
Peter blinked. A glimmer flashed across his lashes. He shifted