After a moment's thought, Peter decided he couldn't let appearances fool him.
How could he decide someone was bad just by looking at them?
Loki's words—"A man must know when to bend and when to stand tall"—still rang in his ears, and Russell's "With great power comes great responsibility" had given him another push.
The saying had originally come from Uncle Ben, but hearing it from Russell carried almost as much weight.
Peter decided to trust his instincts.
He closed his eyes, as if squeezing every last bit of hesitation from his lungs. Then he opened them and held out his hand.
"With great power comes great responsibility. I trust Uncle Ben, and I trust my instincts. Let this so-called old friend come to me."
"Don't make it sound like such a chore. I'm giving you something good, and you're still hesitating." Russell handed over the Symbiote as casually as if he were passing Peter a takeout coffee.
Peter didn't pull his hand back. Once he made up his mind, he never backed out halfway.
As if answering his decision, the black, viscous mass that had been floating quietly three inches above Russell's palm suddenly sprang to life.
With the last of its strength, it shot through the air and wound itself swiftly but gently around Peter's outstretched arm, like a vine reaching for rain.
It didn't feel nearly as unpleasant as he had imagined. It fit him almost docilely, like a cat slipping under the covers on a cold winter night: chilly at first, then comfortable within seconds.
The Symbiote had found the host it wanted, and with him came a glimmer of hope.
In its perception, the cold and darkness that had surrounded it for untold centuries began to recede like a tide, drawing inward from the edges