The alley was choked with dust, the acrid smell of destruction thick in the air. The group stood in silence, catching their breath as the last echoes of the building collapse faded into the distance.
Butcher broke the quiet first, spitting into the rubble-strewn ground. "Right, anyone else sick o' runnin' yet?"
"Not really a fan of it," Alex muttered, wiping the dust from his face. "But it's better than getting crushed."
Deadpool leaned against a broken dumpster, flicking imaginary dust off his shoulder. "I don't know, kid. There's something poetic about a heroic last stand under a collapsing building. Very cinematic."
"Cinematic?" Hughie said, incredulous. "We almost died!"
"And we didn't!" Deadpool said brightly, pointing a finger in the air. "See? Happy ending. Roll credits."
Butcher's glare was sharp enough to cut steel. "Do us all a favor and shut your gob, Spandex."
Deadpool turned to the audience, his voice low and conspiratorial. "He's just mad because his crowbar didn't save the day. Poor guy needs a win."
The City in Chaos
The group slowly moved toward the main street, where the distant wail of sirens echoed through the misty air. The once-bustling sidewalks were now scattered with debris and abandoned belongings, evidence of the panicked exodus from the area.
"What now?" Mother's Milk asked, scanning their surroundings.
"We need a plan," Frenchie said, lighting a cigarette with a shaky hand. "And no more runnin' blind, eh?"
Butcher shook his head. "Plans don't mean shite if we don't know what we're dealin' with."
"Pretty sure we're dealing with the end of everything," Alex said, gesturing vaguely at the sky. The two suns overhead pulsed faintly, their light casting long, twisted shadows across the city.
"Well, aren't you just a ray of optimism," Deadpool quipped. "What's next, kid? You gonna tell us the system says we're all doomed?"
Alex hesitated, his system interface flickering faintly in his vision.
System Notification
[ALERT: MULTIVERSAL INSTABILITY ESCALATING]
Time to Event Horizon: Unknown
"Not doomed," Alex said weakly. "But not good, either."
"Great," Butcher muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Bloody useless, that magic doodad o' yours."
"Hey," Deadpool interrupted, pointing at the glowing suns. "Anyone else notice that those two disco balls in the sky are getting... closer?"
The group froze, their eyes snapping upward. Sure enough, the two celestial bodies seemed to be inching toward each other, their light growing brighter and more intense.
"That's... not normal," Hughie said, his voice trembling.
"You don't say," Butcher replied dryly.
Seeking Shelter
The distant rumble of collapsing structures grew louder, spurring the group into motion.
"Where to now?" Alex asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder.
"Anywhere that ain't directly under those things," Butcher replied, jerking his head toward the pulsing suns.
"Preferably somewhere with snacks," Deadpool added. "And maybe a margarita machine. Gotta keep our spirits up, people."
"No one's takin' orders from you," Butcher snapped.
Deadpool smirked. "Relax, Crowbar King. I'm just here for the witty banter and occasional life-saving. Speaking of, you're welcome for that whole not dying in the building collapse thing."
Butcher rolled his eyes. "You're lucky I've got bigger problems than dealin' with you."
The group rounded a corner, coming across an old subway station entrance.
"That'll do," Mother's Milk said, nodding toward the stairs.
A Quiet Moment
The subway station was eerily silent, the usual hum of trains and chatter replaced by the faint echo of their footsteps. Dust motes floated in the air, illuminated by the pale glow of emergency lights.
"Alright," Butcher said, dropping onto a bench. "Let's take five. Figure out what the hell we're doin' next."
Frenchie leaned against a wall, puffing on his cigarette. "Next? We survive, mon ami. That's all there is to it."
Hughie sat on the edge of the platform, staring at the darkened tracks. "I don't think it's that simple. Whatever's happening out there—it's too big. How do we even fight something like this?"
Deadpool plopped down beside him, slinging an arm around Hughie's shoulders. "Easy. We don't fight the big stuff. We fight the small stuff. Like morale. Or boredom. Speaking of, anyone want to play 'I Spy'? I'll start. I spy... something dusty."
"Everything's dusty," Alex said, exasperated.
Deadpool gasped. "Wow. Spoilers, much?"
Ending Scene
The group sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. The faint hum of energy from the glowing suns above filtered through the cracks in the ceiling, a constant reminder of the chaos waiting outside.
Butcher finally broke the silence. "We ain't sittin' here forever. Rest up, 'cause when we move, we move fast. No more muckin' about."
Deadpool leaned back, his hands behind his head. "Oh, I love a good pep talk. Very 'rally the troops.' But, uh, what's the actual plan?"
Butcher's glare was icy. "The plan, Spandex, is to survive. And if we're lucky, figure out who's behind this shite and beat their face in."
Deadpool turned to the audience with a grin. "There you have it, folks. Simple, effective, and violently optimistic. Stay tuned for the next thrilling episode of Multiversal Mayhem."
As the group prepared themselves for what lay ahead, the scene faded to black, the ominous hum of the approaching suns growing louder.