Venom was driven a bit mad by him. After staying briefly within an ordinary human, it couldn't resist the temptation and ended up in Stark.
Stark's mind was not confused, but the damn bastard's brain experienced more than 3,000 storms every day. Dust-storms and tornadoes rampaged wildly, rendering it almost unrecognizable and almost blowing the cap off Venom's head.
When Venom was shaken out of Stark's body, it felt relief akin to escaping death.
Then, after being starved in a can for a long time, Venom finally managed an escape and was feeling quite delighted. Upon entering Bruce's body, it discovered a useful brain belonging to a wealthy, spoiled brat. Stark's flurry of thoughts didn't plague Bruce, instead, his mind was filled with trivial data such as hospital bed locations and prison room layouts.
Just as Venom, looking forward to a blissful existence, thought it had happily wormed into an egg and was about to swallow the yolk hungrily, the egg cracked open, and a tyrannosaurus rex almost bit Venom's head off.
From its own genetic information, Venom knew very well that humans were not the only beings in the universe who harbored life. How unlucky was it to fall onto Earth, of all places?
Humans were so outrageous. If there ever came a day when Venom could manipulate the symbiotes' gene database, it would warn all its brethren: Stay away from humans. Safety first, improper host selection brings tears to a symbiote's eyes.
Despite the grievances and complaints, the fight had to go on. Venom told Bruce, "I can stimulate your emotions. Right now, you must feel an extreme emotion to suppress these dark feelings."
Thanks to Stark, Venom's logical system originated from this cursed genius. His present line of thought was crystal clear, even clearer than Bruce's because while Bruce was blinded by love, Venom understood very clearly that in order to defeat these dark emotions born from the dismal side, Bruce had to generate enough positive emotions.
"What are you waiting for? Start now," Bruce said.
"The problem is that I can't find your positive emotions!!!!!"
Venom roared, "Where did you hide them?! Hurry up and dig them out!!! They're our last hope!!!"
Venom was swept away by the black tide again, exclaiming in a near breakdown, "What's worth hiding?! You stupid humans!!!"
Bruce opened his mouth, at a loss for how to respond to Venom's question. It sounded ridiculous, but even an alien creature capable of peeking into human hearts couldn't find his positive emotions.
"You have to hurry!" Venom's tone now sounded like Stark's, obviously influenced greatly by the genius.
"This dark emotion harbors some other power. If it completely erupts, your hometown, the city we're currently in, will be obliterated! Nothing will remain!"
Bruce pursed his lips, avoiding another attack from the dark consciousness once again.
Destroy Gotham? Perhaps it sounded crazy, but it made sense too. This mad city deserved oblivion. What could be worth reminiscing about?
Alfred's face appeared in his mind. He remembered the old butler's expression when he sat beside the sickbed and the joyful tune he hummed while wiping the old phone alone in the dark living room.
It didn't surprise Bruce that if there was one person he loved in this city, it would undoubtedly be his butler, Alfred, and if there was one place he reminisced about, it had to be Wayne Manor, where Alfred was residing.
Pretty soon, his memories became blurry, as if he had returned to Wayne Manor. Like every ordinary morning, he pushed a door open.
Much to his surprise, however, behind the door was the dark alley of Gotham, where detective Gordon first called him a freak in tights. They worked together, investigating, tracing and discussing justice and the future of the city on top of the Gotham Police Department building, with the cloaked detective and the bat in his raincoat.
When the night grew deep and Batman turned to leave, upon his return to the manor, the flickering candlelight revealed an old friend waiting for him. Batman and Harvey sat on the sofa, talking about many things like a couple of old friends, spouting wisdom and sharing a silent understanding amid their conversations. Bruce's memory of those discussions had become fuzzy but their connection felt as clear as ever.
Soon enough, he was navigating through Gotham's bright skyscrapers, passionately kissing Catwoman, lost in an infatuated dream.
The flung travel curtains, the tipped wine glasses, the spilled wine, those gentle and wild nights, those passionate kisses that made the cold-blooded bat feel warm, the fascinating lover who told stories of jewels and castles that Batman was never interested in. In his memory, Bruce listened very attentively, but to him, Catwoman's eyes shone brighter than any gem she could describe.
The rustling sound of pens on paper filled the room, and Bruce felt like he was back in an examination hall, watching his classmates scratch their heads. Perhaps he felt amazed, or maybe helpless.