"If we want to go back, we have to take down that bald psycho. Why are all the strongest Marvel women bald?"
"The only way to neutralize Cassandra Nova's telepathy is to put the Juggernaut's helmet in her hands. That's the only way to suppress her psychic powers."
Deadpool from the main universe paced anxiously, rallying the others. No one wanted out of the Void more than him.
He had exactly two and a half days before Mr. Paradox used the Time Ripper to wipe his entire universe from existence.
He had to make it back in time to stop him.
Right now, both Deadpools and their crew were hunkered down in a cavern. The conflict between their factions had raged from dawn till dusk, bleeding into a full day and night of brutal combat. In the end, exhaustion ended the fight—not victory.
Main universe Deadpool had tricked yellow-suit Logan, and now they'd all taken refuge in a cave under the guidance of the Hell's Kitchen versions of Deadpool and Wolverine.
Inside, they weren't alone.
Several other mutants, rebels who opposed Nova's regime, were already living in the darkness of the Void.
Gambit—Remy Etienne LeBeau—flipped playing cards between his fingers. Each card shimmered with volatile kinetic energy, ready to explode at a flick of the wrist. His crimson eyes gleamed with anticipation, itching for a real fight and a shot at freedom.
Blade—Eric Brooks—sat cross-legged nearby, silently meditating. The vampire hunter's muscular form was like carved granite under the dim light. The eternal clash between his vampiric nature and human soul gifted him incredible strength and regenerative abilities.
But at night, when all was quiet, he still heard the blood call. A pull toward violence—and justice.
At the entrance of the cave stood Elektra Natchios—formerly a cold-blooded assassin, now cloaked in quiet reflection.
She stared into the endless night beyond the rocks, her thoughts drifting to her time with Matt Murdock... and what had pushed her to this rebellion.
Her hands may have been soaked in blood, but her resolve burned with clarity. Every kill she had made served a greater justice.
On a slab of stone near the wall crouched X-23—Laura Kinney. The little wolf girl carved symbols into the rock with her claws, commemorating the Wolverine she'd once known.
And when Deadpool started talking, his trademark nonsense surprisingly landed.
His impromptu pep talk, full of sarcasm and bravado, convinced the four new mutants to join the mission: to storm Nova's stronghold and capture her.
They were done running.
They were sick of hiding like animals in this wasteland. Shackled by fear and burdened by memories of the dead, they longed for one thing: a fight that meant something.
Even if it ended in death, they wanted it to matter.
Because in this place—the Void—only Nova had the power to send anyone home.
Now, their team consisted of eight: two Deadpools, two Wolverines, and four new recruits.
Or perhaps... only seven.
Yellow-suit Logan had fallen into despair.
He had given up.
Knowing the Time Variance Authority couldn't save his world, he'd surrendered to the bottle, drowning in guilt. He had no interest in helping Deadpool.
No interest in leaving.
The air in the cave grew heavy with his silence.
The once-indomitable mutant now sat slumped in shadow, the bottle never leaving his hand, the liquor dripping steadily onto the cold stone floor.
The rest of them braced for war.
They knew Nova wouldn't fall easily. She was stronger than all of them combined—and commanded hundreds of mutants.
Death didn't scare them.
What scared them was dying for nothing.
What if they charged in and she disintegrated them like she did Johnny Storm?
What if their bones were all that remained, their flesh turned to ash on the breeze?
Among them, only Hell's Kitchen Deadpool and Wolverine seemed at ease.
They knew backup was coming. They had faith that Alex Ray would come—with the X-Men and Charles Xavier in tow.
Wolverine's boots echoed across the cavern floor as he walked toward his broken variant.
The two Logans sat side by side in silence, their shadows merging under the dim light.
Wolverine didn't say a word at first.
He just sat there, eyes full of quiet understanding—and deep unease.
He saw in this version of himself a future he refused to become.
A drunk. A failure. A man haunted by the consequences of a single night.
He'd heard the story.
One night of drinking. That's all it took.
And while he was passed out, every single X-Man in his world was slaughtered.
Waking up to that horror turned him into a monster. He began slaughtering indiscriminately, his name cursed across the multiverse.
It was a cautionary tale. And Hell's Kitchen Wolverine had taken it to heart.
He quit drinking.
Well—almost. First he had one last round. Then he swore off it.
Now, looking at himself in another universe—beaten, broken, and suicidal—he didn't speak words of pity.
He snatched the bottle away.
"My X-Men are coming," he said. "And I don't want them to see this version of me."
He turned and walked off toward the van. "Whether you want to see them is up to you."
Yellow-suit Logan said nothing.
Back in the main chamber, Deadpool from Hell's Kitchen was trying to lighten the mood.
"C'mon, guys, don't act like we're marching to our graves! This is just a warm-up! My brother Alex Ray is bringing the cavalry."
No one looked convinced.
The others had lived in the Void too long. They'd seen self-proclaimed heroes fall one after another.
Nova didn't just kill. She erased.
No evidence, no trace—just annihilation.
So no matter how many stories Deadpool told, no one really believed in this mysterious Alex Ray.
After all, Deadpool wasn't exactly known for his reliability.
Still, they climbed into the van.
Deadpool raised his voice, a final attempt to lift morale. "Don't doubt me! Nova's just another bald boss battle. And my big bro Alex Ray? He's invincible!"
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
2nd Bonus Chapter - 300 Power Stones
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