A.I.M. Experimental Base — Central Control Room
"F.U.C.K!"
Dr. Aldrich Killian slammed both fists onto the control console, his face turning crimson with rage. On the massive monitor in front of him, Marcus could be seen carving through his forces like a reaper unleashed, while the other screen displayed nothing but blood, smoke, and corpses.
"Four! Four goddamn freaks just waltzed in and ruined everything! How the hell did they even find this place!?"
Killian's fury was understandable. He had been conducting illegal human experiments in this secret facility for months — and apart from a few unlucky intruders, no one had dared interfere. Yet tonight, four monsters had arrived at once, turning his elite soldiers into scrap within minutes.
He knew, of course, that his current iteration of the Extremis Virus was still far from perfect. It was nowhere near the level of the version seen in Iron Man 3 — the kind that could go toe-to-toe with Iron Man's suits. His soldiers, despite their fiery glow, were still far from the ultimate lifeforms he envisioned.
So, he had a contingency plan.
"Get me that mercenary! Now! Or he can kiss his two million dollar payment goodbye!" Killian barked, veins bulging in his neck.
"Yes, Doctor!" one of his assistants responded and hurried toward the exit.
But just as the man reached the door—
Ding!
The heavy steel door slid open on its own, and suddenly, a ridiculous pop song blared through the hallway.
♪ "Hey, yeah~ I... a-shoop, baby!" ♪
Strutting in with exaggerated swagger came a man in a red-and-black skintight suit, walking — no, dancing — with all the confidence of a man who owned the room. He moonwalked like Michael Jackson, spun on his heel, and struck a pose — one hand on his head, the other pointing dramatically toward the floor.
"Deadpool," Killian muttered darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I didn't hire you to come here and perform a musical number."
Indeed, the red-suited intruder was none other than Deadpool — the most chaotic, foul-mouthed, fourth-wall-breaking mercenary in the entire Marvel Universe. Hero? Villain? Antihero? The answer was: none of the above.
"Hey, hey," Deadpool said cheerfully, scratching his crotch with the barrel of his pistol. "You have no idea how hard it is to get in the mood for work these days. I need to feel inspired, you know?"
Killian's eye twitched.
"Ugh, you're disgusting."
He snatched a stack of hundred-dollar bills from the desk and hurled them at Deadpool. Before the money even scattered in the air, Deadpool had somehow snatched it all out of sight — who knew where.
"Oooh, that's the spirit," Deadpool crooned. "Don't worry, pal — your thirty million dollars will be well spent. I'll make sure they all get a taste of something hard and satisfying tonight." He paused, tapping his chin. "Wait… that sounded a bit dirty, didn't it?"
He leaned down and kissed the barrel of his gun through his mask. "Actually, never mind. It sounded just right."
"Either shut your mouth or get the hell out of my sight!" Killian exploded.
Deadpool instantly hunched his shoulders, feigning hurt like a scolded puppy. "Aw, come on, Doc, don't be like that. You're starting to sound like Spider-Man — always wanting to tie me up and shut me up with sticky white stuff… Not that I'm complaining, of course."
"OUT!"
The mercenary finally shuffled toward the exit, muttering nonsense under his breath as the door slid closed behind him.
The room collectively exhaled in relief. For many of them, Deadpool's mouth was far deadlier than any weapon.
Out in the corridor, Deadpool twirled his pistols and sighed, speaking not to anyone in particular — or perhaps to someone watching beyond the page.
"Not gonna lie, folks, I'm mostly here hiding out. I just hope nothing worse drops by tonight…"
Because yes — Deadpool knew. He knew he was a fictional character. And that awareness meant he often held conversations with certain… indescribable presences beyond his world.
To everyone else, he was just a lunatic talking to thin air. But they couldn't hear the voices he could.
The ones watching.
---
A.I.M. Base, Sublevel B1
Meanwhile, Marcus and Thunder had cleared the entire floor, using the stolen hacker's device to bypass layer after layer of security.
After descending a long spiral staircase, they arrived at yet another reinforced metal gate.
"Creak—"
The massive door groaned open, the grinding metal echoing through the chamber.
And then — came that voice.
"Morning, sunshine! I was supposed to deal with the other two troublemakers first, but you know what? It's rude not to say hello to the main character before we start killing each other."
Thunder's eyes narrowed.
"Thunder," Marcus ordered coldly. "Attack."
The instant he saw the figure inside — red suit, twin swords on his back, and that unmistakable smug swagger — Marcus knew exactly who it was.
The most unpredictable man in the multiverse: Deadpool.
Without hesitation, both Marcus and Thunder lunged forward, blades flashing in unison. Marcus's silver longsword and Thunder's combat knife sliced through the air, crossing paths in a deadly X aimed right for Deadpool's neck.
Deadpool tilted his head lazily. "Oh wow, are we doing the slow-motion cinematic kill scene already?"
The twin blades struck true — his head flew clean off, tumbling high into the air.
But of course, even decapitated, Deadpool didn't stop talking.
"Welp! Another Tuesday. So, what now? You guys wanna play soccer with it, or are we skipping straight to dodgeball?"
Marcus's eyes narrowed, unamused. He already knew from memory that this lunatic couldn't die — not permanently.
Without missing a beat, he drew his pistols and fired several rounds straight at the airborne head.
"Hey, hey! That's cheating!" Deadpool quipped.
At the exact same moment, his headless body whipped out two pistols of its own — four gun barrels total — all aimed upward.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
A storm of bullets filled the room. The ricochets sparked as the rounds collided midair, each impact scattering flashes of firelight across the dark lab. Deadpool's severed head spun midair, rotating like a demented carnival trick as bullets whizzed past.
Thunder reacted a second too late, momentarily stunned by his absurd regeneration. But she recovered quickly, electricity crackling across her arms as she charged again, blades flashing yellow under the lab's emergency lights.
Deadpool, naturally, couldn't help himself.
"Whoa there, sweetheart — even if you do get my body, you'll never win my heart. Though, if you really wanna get physical, I can be convinced!"
The merc with a mouth was grinning — or at least, his headless body was giving off that impression.
And Marcus realized with cold clarity…
This battle was about to be far more troublesome than he'd planned.
___
🎉 Big Shoutout to Devin Drenovas and Melon!🎉
A heartfelt thank you to Devin Drenovas and Melon for joining my Patreon and supporting this journey! 🙏✨
Your generosity truly makes a difference and helps bring chapters out faster for everyone. 🚀
Welcome to the VIP family, Devin Drenovas and Melon—you both are awesome! 💎🙌