Domino slapped the back of Wade's head hard enough to make his mask shift. "Stop talking."
Massacre chose that moment to interject from his position leaning in the bathroom doorway, his burger somehow still in hand despite the chaos. "Now hear me, sinners," he drawled, voice dropping into that smooth, Southern-preacher cadence, "the Good Book says you do not piss off folks touched by the divine. And that woman?" He pointed. "She don't just walk with the Lord anymore. She's got Death on a leash. Even Wade can't regenerate from it."
The statement hung in the air like a lead balloon.
All the mercenaries, who'd been laughing and joking, went quiet and turned to look at Domino with expressions that ranged from confusion to dawning horror.
Domino tensed, her shoulders going rigid. "Massacre, I swear to God..."
But it was too late. Slapstick started laughing, a high-pitched cartoon cackle that sounded like a hyena on helium. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me Domino is supposed to be a goddess? The same Domino who once got so drunk after her breakup with Jay that she broke in the RAFT and beat up Abomination? The same Domino who rage-quit a mission because someone called her 'Spot-Face'? That Domino, who once said she 'wasn't in the right emotional space for murder?"
Machine Man said in agreement, "Please! I've seen Uzbekistani wrestlers more feminine and refined than her. How did you even bag Jay with that temper?"
The other mercs joined in, their laughter building like a wave.
"Goddess of 'not getting over her Ex," Wade wheezed between laughs.
"Patron Saint of 'Fuck This, I'm Out'!" Gorilla Man added.
An anvil materialized above Slapstick's head out of nowhere. It hung there for exactly one second before gravity remembered it existed.
The anvil dropped with a cartoon sound effect. BONK.
Slapstick crumpled like a accordion, his rubber body compressing into a tiny pile with stars circling his head. "Ow! What motherfu... since when can she do that?!"
Domino's hands were wreathed in crimson strings, and her eye had gone dark with barely contained irritation. "That's what you get for bringing up my 'dark and shameful past.' Next person who mentions anything about Uzbekistani wrestlers or my dating history gets worse."
Wade raised his hand. "Question: How mad are you exactly? Because I've got like ten more jokes and I need to know which ones are worth permanent brain damage."
"Wade."
"Right. Shutting up. Mouth sealed. Lips zipped. Completely quiet starting... now."
He lasted approximately four seconds.
"Although in my defense, the abomination thing was hilarious."
Domino manifested another anvil.
Wade threw his hands up. "Okay! Okay! I'm done! Merciful Goddess, spare this humble fool!"
"Everyone shut the hell up before I start introducing you by your dental records," Domino's voice cut through the chaos like a knife, "Pym family, meet Mercs for Money." She gestured at the gathered group. "Mercs, meet the Pym family. If anyone so much as breathes wrong around them, I start rearranging skeletons. Clear?"
The two groups stared at each other with the kind of awkward tension that came from being complete strangers forced into proximity by circumstances beyond their control.
After a long moment of painful silence, the introductions began properly. Handshakes were exchanged, though several were more reluctant than others.
Hank spent an uncomfortable amount of time staring at Machine Man and Gorilla Man, his scientist brain clearly trying to reconcile what he was seeing with what he knew was possible. "A sentient machine and a gorilla with human intelligence. The evolutionary implications alone..."
"Don't start," Janet touched his arm. "We just got back from a place where Form is meaningless and time flows sideways. Accept the weirdness."
Scott found himself trapped in a game of "guess the Looney Tunes character" with Slapstick, who was demonstrating his various transformations with increasing enthusiasm. "Okay, what about this one?" Slapstick's body contorted, inflated, and twisted into the unmistakable shape of a massive cartoon hammer, complete with a squeaky wind-up sound when he lifted it.
"That's... I don't know, is that Bugs Bunny's hammer?"
"Close! It's actually from the episode where..."
Hope, meanwhile, was dealing with the deeply uncomfortable experience of being hit on by Massacre.
"The Lord teaches us to appreciate competence, especially when it comes to finding a wife." Massacre said with surprising sincerity.
"Thanks, now step away or I'm going to send you to your god " Hope's confusion was evident.
"Kinky! As the Lord says 'the more spice the better'"
Hit-Monkey, having finished his drink mixing, had apparently decided that Hank's wine collection looked more interesting than the ongoing social disaster. He'd migrated to the kitchen and was systematically working through bottles that probably cost more than most people's cars.
"Is that the 1982 Bordeaux?" Hank's voice rose several octaves. "That's a $15,000 bottle! Put it down!"
Hit-Monkey chittered something that roughly meant "finders keepers" and took another long drink straight from the bottle.
After nearly ten minutes of this chaos, Wade clapped his hands together with enough force to make everyone jump. His expression, despite the mask hiding most of his face, shifted into actual seriousness. It was such a rare occurrence that even the other mercs went quiet.
"Alright, boys and girls and sentient machines and primates and whatever the hell Slapstick technically counts as, story time's over. Goddess Domino, if you'd be so kind as to explain why we're all here?" He paused. "And before anyone asks, yes, I just called her Goddess again. Yes, I'm aware of the anvil risk. I'm living dangerously today."
Domino took a deep breath, centering herself with visible effort. "Right. Okay. So, here's the situation. Everyone sit down because this is going to sound insane even by our standards."
They gathered in Hank's living room, an odd collection of individuals that looked like the world's strangest support group. The mercenaries claimed various pieces of furniture with the casual entitlement of people used to making themselves at home anywhere. The Pym family and Scott looked distinctly uncomfortable with this invasion of their space.
"First things first," Domino began, her voice taking on the professional tone she used for mission briefings. "Everyone here needs to understand what a Celestial is."
Wade raised his hand like a student. "Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!
Domino ignored him and pointed at Gorilla Man.
The new mystic warrior's voice carried weight. "In the Kamar Taj library, it's well written; they are the universe's gardeners. Responsible for genetic experimentation across the universe. Created the Eternals and Deviants. Operate on timescales that make human civilisation look like a sneeze. They plant seeds of life, then return to harvest the fruit. The cycle is neither good nor evil. It simply is."
"Good, you have pieces of it, but still not the full picture. They travel the universe planting seeds in planets with the right conditions, then those seeds grow into baby Celestials over millions of years, feeding on the planet's energy and the intelligent life that develops."
She let that sink in.
"When the baby is ready to be born, it emerges. And when something the size of a planet emerges from inside a planet..."
"Boom," Slapstick supplied helpfully. "Big badda boom."
"Exactly. The planet cracks open from the inside. Every living thing dies. The baby Celestial is born. Circle of cosmic life continues."
The room had gone very quiet.
Janet finally connected the dots. "There's one in Earth."
"Growing in the core right now," Domino confirmed. "His name is Tiamut. The Dreaming Celestial. And when he emerges..."
She didn't need to finish. Everyone understood.
"Fuck," Scott breathed. "How long do we have?"
"That's the complicated part. Acutally we've got a few years, but we can never be sure. Celestials don't exactly run on a predictable schedule."
Slapstick's hand shot up like he was in school. "So that should be easy enough for you and Jay to handle, right? I mean, he can just reality warp the problem away or punch it really hard until it stops being a problem."
"No." Domino's voice carried finality. "First, Jay is busy elsewhere. Very busy, with his own mission that he can't postpone. Second, this is a Celestial we're talking about. Even ten of me with my current power level couldn't do anything major to it. And on top of that, if we hurt the unborn Celestial badly enough to actually threaten it, we'll attract Arishem and the other Celestials."
She let that sink in.
"That would be a surefire way to erase Earth from the universe. Permanently. No resurrection, no do-overs even for me."
Machine Man's optical sensors glowed as his processing caught up. "Oh. So that's why you need Pym and his technology. You plan to do a C-section on a planetary scale."
"Exactly." Domino nodded. "But it's never that easy. here's a group here on Earth called the Eternals. They've been here since the dawn of civilization, and their entire purpose is to make sure the Emergence happens. They're going to be a problem."
"How big a problem?" Wade asked.
Domino's expression turned grim. "They're basically immortal superhumans with cosmic energy manipulation. There are ten of them. And they've been conditioning Earth's population for thousands of years to accept this as inevitable."
"So we're fighting gods to save the world," Machine Man summarized. "Again. Why is it always gods?"
"Because mortals are boring," Wade supplied.
Massacre raised his hand. "The Lord teaches us that when facing false deities, the righteous must strike with holy fury and really big explosions. I volunteer to handle the explosions part."
"You're volunteering to handle explosions," Hope said flatly. "You. The religious zealot. Wants to blow up immortal beings."
"The Lord helps those who help themselves," Massacre said with absolute sincerity. "And those who help themselves to military-grade explosives are especially blessed."
Janet leaned toward Hank. "Are they all like this?"
"Apparently," Hank whispered back.
Slapstick bounced in his seat, rubber body making squeaking sounds. "Wait, wait, wait. This is actually perfect timing! Finally, some real action!"
Domino's eye narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"The golden rain! The temporary hero thing!" Slapstick's enthusiasm was infectious despite the serious topic. "Accidents have been reduced by 99.5%, daylight crimes are way down, and nobody hires us mercenaries anymore!"
The other mercs nodded in agreement, their expressions ranging from impressed to annoyed to philosophical.
"It's true," Gorilla Man said, his voice carrying the wisdom of someone who'd learned the ways of mystic arts. "People don't need us for protection anymore. If danger comes, they just become temporary heroes and handle it themselves. The mystic arts have been less in demand too, since Gaea's chosen defenders respond to any foreign entity entering our dimension with malicious intent."
Machine Man added, "Stark's been busy upgrading his suit and studying Gaea's gift instead of going on missions."
Slapstick agrees, "The Fantastic Four have been domesticated now that they have Franklin. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but it means less hero work available."
Hit-Monkey chittered something while taking another drink of Hank's expensive wine.
Domino felt the implications of Jay's actions settling on her like physical weight. The promise to protect Gaea, to solve the Tiamut situation, suddenly felt more urgent than ever. "Well, what are we waiting for then? Let's get this done by dinner. I have a son to get back to."
The reaction was immediate and universal.
"WHAAAAAT?!" Every single mercenary shouted in unison, their voices mixing into one shocked exclamation.
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