Deliberately or otherwise Venom brings attention to an unsaid qualm which apparently eludes his new recruit. Though she had utilized the utmost mental effort to understand what it is that keeps them apart her skull is heavy and she can exert it no more. The opiate rush of foreign blood in her veins had emboldened her, yes, but the catalyst of her affections lay in the heart. The poetic construct of the thing and not the infection ravaging her biological organ. If she were to cut it from her chest would it bear any resemblance to his? Would he believe her?

She'll not contest his response even if it's not what she wanted of him. One must face reality or risk delusion. "Yes," says Eli. "Nothing will."

She silently climbs off of Snake and heads for the window, where she rests her hands upon the glass and looks out on to waters dark and without much distinction. "There's a story," she says. "Man was made two headed. He had eight limbs. Then he was split ... down the middle. He lost his other half." Her blood streaked bangs flatten upon the glass. "He can't find it."