Everything was packed and in storage. His lease had been cancelled with the Life Foundation so it was the hotel for a few days before he made a choice and found a new home.

A hotel had to do for now, and Eddie made his way across town to the one he knew the best, The Emerald Palace. Its light flickered as the old neon sparked and fought valiantly. Eddie didn't mind. It was cheap and he knew the staff. He often drank here as it was quiet but not full of barflies.

It wasn’t until he saw the sign on the outside of the building that he paused. ‘African Dream’ was printed on a poster. It would probably be one of those crappy time-share holiday deals. Some smooth-talking asshole trying to scam retiree's out of their hard-earned money.

Ha, sucks to be you, I don't have any money. He closed his eyes and hug his head. Yeah, good one Eddie. You really don't have any money.

As he felt for his keys, a tall incredibly beautiful African woman handed him a leaflet for the show.

“Do you wish to see the sights of Africa?” she asked him in a thick accent and as he stared at her he felt something. He couldn't put his finger on it. There was just something about her. Something that wanted him to agree. Something that wanted him to follow her to the ends of the Earth. Like a lovestruck idiot, he nodded his head.

“Good.” she said, giving him a  wide smile, “then follow me, and your dreams may come true, my brave warrior.”

Eddie followed her through the lobby of the hotel. Without even realising it handed over his bag to another woman. He barely registered her presence before she was away, with both his bag and his room key.

“In here, you will find the rest of them waiting. I believe you are the last,” she smiled as she pushed open the door and held it for him. In a daze, he nodded and entered.

He sighed as he came back to his senses, it was a scam. Two rows of chairs sat in front of a hastily built stage, covered in a thick shag carpet, a bright red colour. Behind the stage, was a huge white screen and a projector sat in the middle of the two rows of chairs.

Eddie shook his head.

Of course. Get a beautiful woman, spray her with some nice perfume, and bam, get the stupid suckers into the room. Still a loser Eddie.

He took a guess and as he turned the woman smiled but shook her head. “After. You may leave after." She gently pushed him into the room, "Although. If you succeed, you may also find me after." She winked and gave him a small grin before closing the doors.

That surprised Eddie. Venom might have smacked him around like he was a kid but after training with Flash, he was much stronger. This woman just pushed him and back he went. Even surprise shouldn't have given her that much of an advantage.

oh shit, Powereds, was all he could think.

No wonder he followed so easily. It was probably some mind control bullshit and now he was about to get whacked.

“Good to see you, Mr?” A wide-armed smiling African man asked. His accent was the same as the women behind him. He was tall and handsome, with a wide smile and a neat haircut, his face chiselled and with a neatly trimmed beard. While Eddie looked at him he realised his bearing was all wrong.

This guy isn't a salesman, he thought to himself, he's a soldier.

“I don't want a timeshare. I don't want a boat or a condo or a holiday, so, no. No names, just kill me or whatever or let me go. I don't want to fight, I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to be left alone,” Eddie said, shaking his head.

“Well, then we do this the more difficult way. Mr Brock, we already know who you are, the same way we know who Mr Fisk and Mr Davis are. And Mr Wilson and Miss Moon, and Mr Gargan, but we are not here to fight.” The man held up a vial of pale blue liquid.

“Do you recognise this?” he asked and Eddie was shocked, it was formula. He’d never seen it as a liquid as the one he’d taken was a spider bite, but he’d read the reports.

“It is a poor effort to reproduce this.” The man pulled out another vial, this one was a deep purple colour and it sparkled and shone in the light.

“You are not here to fight Mr Brock, we are here to fix a mistake that was done to you, to all of you.” He motioned to a group of people that were off to one side, helping themselves to what looked like a buffet lunch.

“Please, get some food and we can explain, and then, yes, if you wish, you may leave. Oh, and my name is T’Challa, it is a pleasure to meet you Spider-Man”

Eddie snorted. “Didn't you hear, Spider-Man is dead.” He shook his head as he made his way over to the long catering tables.

A group of people had already gathered at the tables, including one of the largest men Eddie had ever seen. Standing at over seven feet tall whoever the giant was eating a small selection of pastries. Eddie tried not to laugh as he saw the ludicrously small cup of coffee.

His companion was a wary-looking African man. He was in a suit but kept his eye on their captors. His own plate was to one side and he only took small bites.

Someone used to action, Eddie bet. There was no sense of danger though. Whoever the pair were were completely at ease in the room.

Eddie grabbed burgers and a selection of pizza slices. If they were paying, he was eating and had no care about who was watching or who was ready to fight. Food was food, and this was a lavish spread for what seemed like only eight people.

“Please, continue, I will explain. First, I am sorry we have kept you here, but what we are going to tell you is, well, at the moment a secret. In the coming weeks, the world will change and we need to be sure that you are all prepared,” T’Challa explained. He was sitting at a table himself. One of the tribally dressed women placed a plate in front of him. It smelled like steak and he cut into it as he spoke.

“During the war, your second I believe, a young scientist was on sabbatical when he discovered a flower. He noticed that the animals that ate this flower were bigger and more resilient than normal. Being a diligent young man he took some home and began to try and duplicate it.” Another bald woman poured a deep red liquid into a glass next to him and he took a sip, smiling. “For those of you who know their history, that was the same formula used to create Captain America.” As he waved a fork at the group, “Eventually others tried to replicate it. Howard Stark was successful. Norman Osborn was not.”

The bodyguard of the giant stood and reached into his jacket, but T’Challa shook his head,

“You do not need that, we are not here for your powers, Mr Davis, we are here to fix them.” T’Challa lay down his fork and flicked open a folder next to him,

“Oscorp began researching the formula. Side effects include random mutation and severe neurological and physiological degradation. The worst one, however, is death.” T’Challa read and then closed the file.

“While it was not our intention, it seems that we must still act. Each of you can and may become a monster. Mr Brock, I believe you are well aware of this are you not, having fought him, and you two, Mr Fisk, and Mr Davis. You have seen the results if the formula is left untreated.” T’Challa cut a piece of steak and chewed it slowly as he watched the group.

“Venom,” was all Fisk said.

Eddie stared at him. Eddie knew Venom had been targeting groups around New York. Was this selection the fearsome four? The giant fit the profile, just missing the arms.

“Quite Correct Mr Fisk. The individual known as Venom is the result of a spider bite. Not quite as potent as yourself Mr Brock but still. It was enough to cause the mutation into the creature you are familiar with.”

“Some stupid kid gets bit and now you’re swooping to clean up the mess?” Another thin black man asked. Eddie noticed his stance hid a combat veteran. His piercing stare seemed to penetrate through him,

“This is not altruism Mr Wilson. The formula is dangerous and we wish to simply make amends,” T’Challa replied.

“No,“ Sam said, shaking his head, “I don't buy it. You're Prince T’Challa, son of T'Chaka, King of Wakanda. You don't have this tech, not for this, not to do this.”

“Wakanda is more advanced than you think Mr Wilson, and it is time to come out from behind the curtain.” T'Challa had argued with his father over this. He had argued that with powered becoming newsworthy it was time to stop hiding. Once the world learned of the formula's origin, they would become a target. It was only luck that Captain America faded into obscurity with his disappearance.

“But right now, that is not important. What is important are the people here today. It requires a story, a long one, unfortunately, but to explain everything they often are, Please.”

One of the Dora Milaje stepped forwards and placed a small circular device on the table and waved her hand over it.

“Billions of years ago….”

In the beginning, the universe was a giant ball of hot energy, condensing down into what we know today. As it burst into life the energy formed and coagulated into 6 stones. Power, Mind, Reality, Space, Time, and finally Soul.

With the energy from these six stones swirling around the new universe life began. The first life, the avatars of the stones, grew and gained consciousness. They strode across the newly formed universe as giants, seeding the new cosmos with life. It was not paradise, as even with their small number, the Celestials knew jealousy.

One of their kind, shunned and avoided, sat in his realm, surrounded by the darkness. As his brothers and sisters played and created he was pushed back. His realm was the edge of creation, and his domain was the end of all things. He was the devourer, and it was his duty to only arise as infinity ended.

In his anger, he grabbed and shaped the void. He created a hunger. A creature so foul it assimilated, copied, and eventually devoured its host. In his madness, he smiled and unleashed his monster.

He sent out this race, his Klyntar, to destroy what his brothers had made. They gathered to face him, to accuse him of his crimes and see him brought to justice. As they fought, unwilling to back down, they fell one by one to the null and his creatures of darkness. All but two.

In the final battle, one of the Celestials, the Searcher, used the 6 stones to forge a weapon. An ebony sword, pitch black, and made from the bones of his fallen family. With it, he struck the Null and left his severed head floating in the universe as a reminder. That even gods may die.

Only one survived, hiding away in a place no one could find him, forever travelling among the stars.

As the last of the gods lay dying, his lifeblood seeped into the barren, giant world. He gathered together all the stones and used each one in turn to seed the fledgling universe with life. Spreading its energy and his own and sending them across the universe.

Where the energy was most concentrated life grew. It formed avatars of the stones once more. A consciousness that moulded and nurtured the life around them.

As the energy spread, it hit a new world. One that was lush and green. As it sought out minds, they became the very animals they created. Several chose new forms, seeking out life to protect and guide.

The hologram flicked and faded, leaving a group of scowling men. 

T’Challa smiled at their doubting faces. “Each of you is an animal.” He motioned to Eddie, “spider,” to Fisk “gorilla,” and with each, named them.

"They are the Gods of Wakanda. They are the creatures from the legend. They are the source of your powers."