The aftermath of the battle left the team in a tense, uneasy silence. Deadpool was busy rifling through the remnants of the broken drones, picking up parts and muttering to himself. Logan leaned against the cold wall, his eyes scanning the darkened room for any signs of more incoming threats. Doctor Strange stood with his arms crossed, a contemplative look in his eyes as he studied Harley.
"You did well," Strange said, his voice low but steady.
Harley shifted uncomfortably under Strange's gaze. His hands were still trembling from the adrenaline, and his chest felt tight as if the weight of a thousand pressures had taken residence there. The echoes of battle still hummed in his ears, mingling with the sense of dread that Ultron's last words had left behind. Harley had never felt so alive, yet so helpless at the same time.
"Thanks, I guess," Harley managed, his voice cracking. He flexed his fingers, trying to quell the nerves that were coiling in his muscles.
Strange raised an eyebrow, an inscrutable look on his face. "There's more to you than meets the eye, Harley." His tone suggested he knew something Harley didn't, but before Harley could question him, Deadpool interrupted, clapping Harley on the back with exaggerated force.
"Hey, kid, don't get all gloomy on me now! We just survived an epic showdown and lived to tell the tale. That's gotta count for something, right? Next time, we bring popcorn."
Harley managed a weak chuckle, but it was short-lived. A sudden, searing pain erupted in his chest, and he doubled over, gasping. It was as if fire had licked at his insides, spreading from the heart outward. The room spun, and the scent of ozone tickled his nose, sharp and metallic.
"Harley!" Logan's voice cut through the haze, his steps quick as he moved to help. But then, something incredible happened. The pain that had clutched Harley's body began to melt away, replaced by an electric tingle that buzzed beneath his skin. A soft, blue glow traced along his veins, as if some hidden energy had awakened inside him.
"What… is this?" Harley whispered, eyes wide as he stared at his hands, half expecting them to erupt in fire. But the glow faded as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the thrum of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Deadpool, oblivious to the serious turn of events, dropped down next to Harley and began rummaging through his pockets. "Don't worry, I've got some band-aids, a snack, and a rubber chicken. We'll fix this in no time."
"Stop… give me a second," Harley managed to say, shaking his head and taking deep breaths. The power that surged within him still felt foreign and unsettling.
Strange's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. "That wasn't just pain, was it? It was energy—something awakened inside you. It's… unique. We'll need to monitor this."
Logan's expression softened with a rare moment of understanding. "First time for anything," he muttered, hand still on Harley's shoulder. "We've all been there."
Harley's heart still raced, but the pain had retreated to a dull ache. He looked up at the group, who were all watching him with a mix of concern and curiosity. What had just happened? And more importantly, what did it mean for the battles to come?
Deadpool broke the silence, eyes wide with dramatic flair. "This is where you say, 'I am Groot!' Wait, wrong universe, my bad. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that means you're officially in the superhero club. Welcome. We don't have a membership card, but we do have snacks."
Strange's lips twitched at Deadpool's antics, but the tension in the room remained palpable. Harley could feel it—the first trace of power, raw and untamed, waiting for him to figure out how to wield it.
This was the beginning of something he could neither control nor predict. But one thing was certain: whatever lay ahead, he would have to face it with both courage and the realization that he was no longer just a comic book fan or an ordinary barista.
He was becoming something more.