Stifling silence permeated every layer of space inside the office room. The room was dark; the only source of light coming from the monitor.
Joe's serious expression was illuminated within that darkness, giving him a sinister presence.
Jokes aside, the Men In Black universe was a dangerous place to live in. It was slightly behind Marvel in terms of all that dimensionality and abstract concepts bullshit. Did that make it manageable? No. It would have certainly given him a headache since aliens were almost everywhere. The aliens in Marvel were, at least, discrete enough in their operations.
'However, that becomes negligible once the world comes to know of civilizations beyond Earth. The Chitauri were the eye-openers for the general public,' Joe contemplated as he watched the movie.
He had some spare time on hand to watch the full movie and skip through the boring bits. Sincerely, he didn't like repeating movies—a habit that he had in his previous lifetime. It was only on rare occasions that he would rewatch a film that captured his interest.
A maniacal grin stretched his lips as the movie reached its ending. The scene suddenly began zooming out from the human world, the alignment of the planets, the Milky Way galaxy, a cluster of galaxies, and, finally, the whole universe!
The point of view abruptly shifted to a super alien existence playing around with a marble that houses our universe. And that was not all. There were other marbles representing different universes beyond our own!
The sheer existential horror in that particular scene made Joe's heart beat louder than normal. How did it feel to have your entire existence, as microscopic as it is, to be just part of particle collision inside a marble?
If Joe had an answer to that. Then it would be nothing. Nothing came to mind. He couldn't fathom something beyond the scope of existence itself. There was nothing to gain by wallowing in your insignificance.
Did Wukong comprehend the scale of the Buddha's vastness inside a single pore of his hand? He was incapable of doing so. How can you understand something incomprehensible—a domain touching on virtual omnipotence?
He wasn't a cosmic nihilist, but sometimes, it was better to treat some aspects of life as nonexistent. Maybe it was denial or just Joe not giving a fuck. All in all, it was truly interesting to know that extra-universal entities could play soccer with our cosmos.
But then, a crazy idea struck his mind.
'Is it possible to extract that marble?'
Joe understood the concept was both absurd and nearly impossible, especially when factoring in energy calculations. The USB was merely a conduit for an interdimensional gateway. Could it really provide the stability needed for an entire universe to cross over? Could a barely superpowered human like him even hope to support a marble-sized universe? It was all a ridiculous amount of wishful thinking!
"Truly ridiculous. But let me give it a try for the sake of my hopeful—and stupid—side." Joe released a low chuckle before pausing the scene.
A pitch-black wavy film rippled on the screen. A stable space-time channel had already been established.
His hand hovered, just inches away from the shimmering surface. His breath hitched, the weight of infinite consequences pressing on his shoulders. He was ready to remove the USB Drive the moment something went amiss. It was a risky move from him trying to have contact with an alien god—a cosmic existence in terms of sheer dimensional size even when put in Marvel.
What if that slimy alien notices the ripples in the space-time continuum? Did it have some sort of dimensional hyper-awareness?
Joe clenched his hand at the last second, just a few inches away from the spatial membrane. He couldn't just jeopardize himself for the sake of feeding his curiosity. From the novel, the rules of the Super USB Drive dictated that one couldn't instantiate something beyond the USB itself. But was his version of the Super USB truly the same as the original? Maybe the rules had been tweaked to favor his current universe. Well, as grand as that notion might be, Joe lacked the motivation to find out.
'The Cthulhu rip-off from M.I.B should just be left alone. I should concentrate on what I need for the operation.' A small bead of sweat trickled down his temple as he thought.
Joe deeply exhaled and reversed the time duration to the scene where a pen-like gadget was introduced. It was the neuralyzer—an electro-biomechanical neural transmitting zero synapse repositioner.
The neuralyzer was a standard gadget carried by every agent during missions. It was designed to erase the memories of any civilian who witnessed something they shouldn't have—such as aliens. The device could isolate and modify specific electric impulses related to memories. Once neuralyzed, a person would fall into a trance, leaving them highly susceptible to suggestions.
'Isn't this the perfect weapon to be used in a hypnosis doujin by the ugly, four-eyed, fat loser? Or sometimes, the filthy, round uncle with baldness?' Joe clicked his tongue, amusement playing in his eyes.
'I forgot the faceless, so-called chad of the genre.' He lightly shook his head as he tapped on the desk.
"But, on the bright side, it can be used in therapy to wipe out trauma and all dark mental blocks. Damn, I can imagine myself wiping Wanda's fears and editing Jean's childhood memories," Joe thought aloud before pausing his actions.
A split second later, he groaned, facepalming himself in the process.
"Won't that make Charles Xavier Version 2.0? I can't be that guy. The most stable path is for people to deal with their fears and past traumas by themselves. Using third-party means might introduce unseen, irreversible consequences."
"Anyway, I'm not cut out to be a multiversal therapist. I think I might need a therapist of my own. We all fucking need therapy."
Sighing to himself, Joe pulled out the Neuralyzer together with the Ray-Ban sunglasses. The Ray-Ban sunglasses were essential if he didn't want to flash-bang himself to brain-dead status. That would be immensely horrible on his part and embarrassing if he neuralyzes both himself and the target.
"Hmm, am I forgetting something crucial?" Joe leaned back in his seat. His eyes brightened when he remembered another 'flashy thingy'.
"How can I single out the de-neuralyzer for emergencies? Let's pull that one out too." Joe chuckled. With de-neuralyzer in hand, he could easily reverse accidental memory fuckery of some innocent schmuck.
With these 'weapons' in hand, it was all that he needed to deal with Fisk's men under Peter's anti-kill moral code.
'I'm doing this for you, buddy. But there will be that moment that might force you to be that person you hated envisioning yourself as—the dark side.' Joe's eyes gleamed in the cold light of the monitor, reflecting its eerie glow.
'But you have shown me there's always an alternative.' He gazed at the neuralyzer resting in his hand, its weight lighter than his final decision.
***
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