Jona Davis crouched behind a broken pillar and watched his brother die. Yo-Yo lay twenty feet away on the cracked plaza outside the great sphere headquarters of the Venoms, one hand still reaching for the blade he'd dropped. Above him stood a Static soldier in a white helmet, boot pressed to Yo-Yo's chest. Manic. Jona knew the name from every briefing. He knew the laugh too. The Statics had pushed the Venom line back to the front steps of Planet V, and now their best killer was carving trophies from Jona's family. Jona had come here to win a war. He was about to lose a brother instead. He broke from cover before the plan formed. His boots hit stone, his blade came up, and Manic turned in time to grin. Yo-Yo saw Jona coming and shook his head once, hard. Then Manic drove the spike down. Jona reached them a second too late. He swung wild and Manic slipped the strike, laughed, and vanished back into the Static ranks retreating up the ridge. Jona dropped to his knees. Yo-Yo's mouth moved. Blood, not words. Jona held his brother's shoulders until the shaking stopped, then longer. The battle noise faded around him. Somewhere behind, the Venom horns called the survivors back inside the sphere. Jona stood up with his brother's blood on his hands and looked at the doors of Planet V, at the giant V cut into its face. Only one Venom wore the crown. Only the strongest. He would climb to it. He would find Manic at the top, or drag Manic up with him, and he would finish what happened here today. He picked up Yo-Yo's blade and walked toward the doors.