The quiet of the Avengers' meeting room grew heavier as everyone absorbed the gravity of Doctor Strange's words. Steve Rogers leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his face lined with concern. Natasha Romanoff stood near the window, her arms crossed, watching the group carefully. Harley sat at the edge of his chair, shifting uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gazes.
Deadpool, of course, broke the silence. "Alright, Strange-y boy, spill the tea. What multiverse mess are we dealing with this time? Evil doppelgängers? Spider-Man but, like, in Crocs? Oh, oh! Don't tell me—it's Zombie Thanos!"
Strange gave him a withering look before pointing a finger directly at Harley.
"It's because of him."
Harley blinked, taken aback. "W-What? Me? I'm just a regular guy!"
Logan groaned, rubbing his temples. "Of course, it's you. The guy with no powers and no plan. Why am I not surprised?"
Deadpool gasped dramatically, leaping to his feet. "Plot twist! The mild-mannered comic book nerd is actually the harbinger of doom. Who saw that coming? Oh, right—me!"
Strange ignored them, addressing Harley directly. "When you were pulled from your original universe, it created fractures in the timeline. Your presence in different realities—places you were never supposed to exist—has caused destabilization across the multiverse."
Harley's heart sank. "But I didn't mean to—"
"That doesn't matter," Strange interrupted. "Intentions are irrelevant when it comes to cosmic balance. Every moment you've spent jumping from one reality to another has compounded the problem. The TVA tried to intervene, but now the damage is beyond their control."
Steve leaned back, frowning. "If this is true, why hasn't the multiverse collapsed already?"
Strange's expression was grim. "It's on the verge. Timelines are unraveling, converging in ways they never should. If we don't fix this, reality as we know it will cease to exist."
Natasha finally spoke, her tone measured. "What's the plan, then? How do we stop it?"
Strange hesitated, his gaze flicking to Harley. "We need to retrace his steps—undo the disruptions he's caused. It's going to require precision and…" He exhaled. "…a lot of cooperation."
Deadpool clapped his hands together. "You hear that, Harley? You're officially the main character now! Don't worry, buddy, I'll be your wisecracking sidekick. Every hero needs one. Just think of me as your better-looking, funnier Robin."
Harley groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I just wanted to read comics, not be in one."
"Too late!" Deadpool chirped. "Welcome to the big leagues, kid."
Steve exchanged a look with Natasha, then turned back to Strange. "If this is as serious as you say, we're going to need the rest of the team."
Natasha nodded. "I'll call Bruce and Rocket. They'll want to hear this."
Logan crossed his arms, his voice gruff. "And while we're waiting for your genius plan, what's the next move?"
Strange looked at Harley, his expression stern. "The next move? We start cleaning up his mess."
Deadpool leaned toward Harley with a grin. "No pressure, pal. Just the fate of all existence riding on your shoulders. But hey, at least you're not this guy." He pointed at himself. "The only thing riding on my shoulders is the weight of my own awesomeness."
"Wade," Logan growled.
"Fine, fine." Deadpool threw up his hands in mock surrender. "I'll save the jokes for later. Unless we're all doomed—then I'll definitely want to go out on a laugh."
Harley swallowed hard, his mind racing. He hadn't asked for any of this, but now, the multiverse—maybe even all of existence—depended on him.
"Great," he muttered under his breath. "Just great."