Hearing Alex Ray's calm and resolute threat, Cassandra felt as if her heart had been struck by a sledgehammer. She fought to maintain her composure on the surface, but her inner defenses had already crumbled.
Her mental state was far from stable.
In the Void, where she reigned unchallenged, no one dared defy her. Anyone who had tried was already dead at her hands.
She could do whatever she pleased, whenever she pleased. This was the first time she had ever experienced powerlessness.
And being at someone else's mercy filled her with unbearable discomfort.
What terrified her most was that she couldn't escape. This was her own constructed memory realm, and yet now she was trapped within it—completely out of control. The irony was maddening.
And the source of all this chaos… was the man calmly sipping tea in front of her.
"What exactly do you want?" Cassandra glared at Alex Ray, hatred simmering in her eyes. His indifference, his stillness—it enraged her. She was supposed to be the calm one. The one in control.
But Alex was already losing interest in Cassandra. He had expected more from someone supposedly so powerful. Older even than Professor X, yet so mentally fragile.
To him, Cassandra now seemed like a spoiled, entitled brat throwing a tantrum.
He was done entertaining her.
At that moment, a soft voice, laced with guilt, cut through the tension.
"It's okay. Mr. Alex Ray won't hurt you here."
Professor X spoke slowly, his expression a mixture of sympathy and complicated emotion—compassion for Cassandra, guilt over their shared past.
"Can we talk?" he asked gently. "About you, about me… and the blood between us."
He had been well into his forties when he discovered he had a sister. The guilt had weighed on him ever since.
Then, from behind them, Hell's Kitchen Deadpool suddenly shouted, "Alex! That bald women the one who tortured me! Get her! Avenge me! You don't know—balds are all pervs! she peeled off my skin! Ripped my flesh! I was almost a goner!"
"Alright, alright," Alex said dismissively, "the real you will be here to pick you up soon. Chill."
Though it had been a while since he'd seen Deadpool, nothing about him had changed. He was still as annoying—and as unkillable—as ever.
"You said the same thing about the Ancient One," Doctor Strange quipped. "Careful, or I'll rat you out."
"How mystical," Thor added, eyes scanning their surroundings with childlike curiosity. "So this is a memory world?"
One by one, familiar faces began casually chatting inside the memory realm.
Cassandra stood frozen, stunned. These people… these powerful beings… were all here, talking like it was just another day at a coffee shop.
Her fragile calm shattered once again.
"What the hell is Deadpool's world?!"
Had she stayed in the Void too long? Had she fallen out of touch with reality?
Could a device now exist that blocked cerebral invasions?
She wasn't sure anymore.
But she was sure of one thing—she was the strongest mutant alive. The countless trophies of conquest she'd collected across the Void were proof of her unmatched psychic might.
"It has to be an illusion. I'm still the strongest. My powers are perfect! This isn't real! WAKE UP!"
She smacked herself repeatedly, trying to break free from the apparent hallucination.
Alex Ray turned to Professor X, raising an eyebrow. His expression said it all: "Really? This is your sister?"
To be honest, Alex was surprised too. Anyone capable of retaining self-awareness inside a memory world had to be, or become, a multiverse-level entity.
And now… there were too many of them.
Wanda? Sure. That made sense.
But Professor X, Magneto, Strange, Thor, Tony Stark—even Kingpin?
All of them had regained consciousness.
In theory, multiverse-level individuals are rare—one in ten thousand across variants. But here in Hell's Kitchen, it seemed like half the population was on that path.
Alex had to admit it: Hell's Kitchen was terrifyingly stacked.
(Mother fxxk, what kind of shameless author is this?! These guys are as OP as you want them to be. I'm done! Screw this crap company! Can't you just give me some cheat codes and make me invincible? I'm tired of playing the clown every damn day!)
Main universe Deadpool ripped off his mask and slammed it to the ground, full tantrum mode activated.
(Why am I written like some broke, ugly, desperate loser? I'm in my 30s, still shacked up with a blind old lady, and I've had it! I QUIT!)
Deadpool was spiraling.
(Hey Author, let's have a chat. I'm already not a winner in the movies—could you at least tweak my setting here? Maybe let me be a billionaire, have a cozy life with Vanessa, get my face back to normal? If not, I'm out. Might as well do a guest spot over in the DC Universe. Gotham may be dark, but at least they've got class. I bet Bruce Wayne needs me!)
With that, Deadpool prepared to break the fourth wall and leave.
Meanwhile, Wolverine had no idea his main-universe counterpart was off-script and spiraling into meta-madness.
Both Wolverines were still engaged in battle.
Hell's Kitchen Wolverine tore Juggernaut's helmet off and hurled it up to the second floor.
The other Wolverine—wearing the classic yellow X-Men suit—caught it in midair and jammed it over Cassandra's head.
The moment the helmet clamped down, Cassandra's psychic powers were cut off. She was now just an ordinary human.
"Hu… hu… hu…" Cassandra gasped, returning to the real world in a panic.
Her incursion into Deadpool's memory realm had backfired spectacularly.
But she wasn't afraid.
Even powerless, she managed a laugh, turning to Wolverine with a mocking grin.
"Haha… thanks. But if you want to return to your original world, you'll have to take the helmet off. I'm the only one who can send you back."
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