"Oh bugger, too high up!" I exclaimed, realizing I was hovering precariously far above the bustling city. Spider-Man, stationed on a nearby rooftop, was frantically waving his arms, signaling for me to descend since he couldn't reach that altitude. His iconic red and blue suit stood out against the intricate backdrop of the cityscape, the webs on his costume catching the sunlight. Taking a deep breath, I focused on lowering myself, finally landing next to him with a sense of relief that rivaled the satisfaction of finding the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle. "So, Andy," Spider-Man began, his voice calm but laced with an underlying urgency, "I was thinking maybe we should see Doctor Strange. He might have the answers you're looking for."

I pondered the idea for a moment, my mind racing with possibilities. Consulting Stark initially seemed more fitting—after all, I was inexplicably sucked into my phone, and Stark's technological expertise might be more relevant. "Great idea, Peter, but since I was pulled into my phone, I think Stark would understand better," I replied, my voice wavering slightly with uncertainty. Spider-Man nodded thoughtfully, the lenses of his mask narrowing as he considered my response. "Yes, but you mentioned earlier that two giant shadowy arms pulled you in. That sounds like magic, and who better to deal with magic than Doctor Strange himself?" His logic was impeccable, much like his ability to annoy J. Jonah Jameson. He was right. While Tony Stark's technological genius was undeniable, the shadowy arms hinted at something far more mystical, veering into the arcane. "Well, you have a point. Doctor Strange it is, as long as it isn't Wolverine," I conceded, my mind conjuring images of the irritable mutant with his adamantium claws. Sure, let's add another layer of complexity—why not? Peter chuckled, the sound slightly muffled by his mask. "We don't need to go that far to call Logan. Plus, he's still mad at me. But I won't say anymore about Logan."

"What? You're not scared of Wolverine, are you Spider-Man, that extremely muscular bad-tempered mutant?" I teased, a sly grin spreading across my face. The mental image of Spider-Man tiptoeing around Wolverine like a wary cat was too amusing to resist. Peter scoffed, his posture relaxing slightly. "No, I am not scared of Mr. Grumpy Claws."

"Peter, I know what you did. You teased him," I added, recalling a comic I once read where Spider-Man had to team up with Wolverine. The memory brought a brief smile to my face, a reminder of how surreal my current situation was. What's next? A friendly chat with Thanos over a cup of tea? Spider-Man sighed, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just hope Strange can help us out." As we prepared to make our way to Doctor Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum, I couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The bustling streets below continued their never-ending flow of activity, oblivious to the surreal adventure unfolding above. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the city and painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The distant sounds of honking cars and chattering pedestrians faded into the background as I focused on the task ahead. With renewed determination, I followed Spider-Man as he swung effortlessly through the city, his web-lines glinting in the fading light. The city around us blurred into a vibrant tapestry of colors and lights. As we approached the towering silhouette of the Sanctum Sanctorum, my heart raced with anticipation. This was just the beginning of what promised to be a wild and unpredictable ride through the strange and mystical world of Marvel superheroes.

Peter seemed to have a moment of curiosity as we prepared to head towards Doctor Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum. His mask tilted slightly, giving the impression of a raised eyebrow. "Hey, Andy," he started, a hint of curiosity in his voice, "You seem to know quite a bit about me. Do you know about other superheroes too?" I couldn't help but chuckle at his question. "You mean, do I know about the plethora of superheroes who run around in tights, capes, and occasionally questionable fashion choices? Absolutely." Peter's mask lenses narrowed, clearly intrigued. "Like who? Name a few."

"Well, there's Iron Man—genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Then there's Captain America, the star-spangled man with a plan. Don't forget Thor, the god of thunder with the fabulous hair. And of course, the Hulk—because every team needs a giant green rage monster," I listed off, adding a touch of sarcasm to each description. "Oh, and how could I forget Black Widow, the only one who seems to get work done without a super-suit, super-soldier serum, or gamma radiation." Peter nodded, clearly impressed. "Okay, okay, you got me there. But what about the less obvious ones? Like, do you know about the Guardians of the Galaxy?" I rolled my eyes playfully. "Ah, yes, the ragtag group of misfits who save the galaxy while bickering like an old married couple. Star-Lord, Gamora, Drax, Rocket, and Groot—who, by the way, has a rather limited vocabulary."

"You know a lot," Peter admitted, a hint of admiration in his voice. "How about the X-Men?" I smirked. "Oh, you mean the group of mutants who can't seem to decide if they're a school, a team, or just a really dysfunctional family. Yeah, I'm familiar. Cyclops, Jean Grey, Storm, and of course, Mr. Grumpy Claws himself, Wolverine." Peter laughed, shaking his head. "You really do know your stuff, Andy. But how does a regular guy from Australia get to know so much about us?"

"Let's just say I've spent a lot of time reading comics and watching movies," I replied with a wink. "It's amazing what you can learn when you're supposed to be working."

"Oh, and before you ask, yes, I know Deadpool," I added with a smirk. Peter's face dropped, his posture shifting from amusement to a mix of dread and empathy. "I am so sorry, Andy. We all know him!" He groaned audibly, probably remembering some of Deadpool's more infamous antics. "Deadpool is like a living, breathing fourth-wall-breaking hurricane. Just when you think things can't get crazier, he shows up with a chimichanga and a grenade launcher."

Before I could respond, a voice boomed out of nowhere, "HELLO SPIDEY!" Peter's face dropped even more, his posture visibly deflating. "Oh no," he muttered, placing his hand on his head in exasperation. It was clear he knew exactly who that voice belonged to. "Deadpool?" I guessed, my suspicions confirmed by Peter's reaction. "Yep," Spider-Man confirmed with a sigh. "Brace yourself, Andy. Things are about to get... chaotic." With that, Deadpool appeared, his red and black suit as flamboyant as ever, a grin plastered on his masked face. "Hey there, Spidey! And who's your new friend?" Deadpool asked, his tone annoyingly cheerful. Then, turning to me, he added, "Hi there, new guy. You must be the protagonist of this little adventure! Don't worry, I won't steal your spotlight... much."

"Deadpool, we're kind of in the middle of something important," Spider-Man said, exasperation clear in his voice. "Important? Like that time, you got stuck in the revolving door at Stark Tower?" Deadpool quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Or is this a different kind of important, like saving the world from certain doom?"

"Deadpool, can't you see we're on a mission?" Peter groaned, his patience wearing thin. Deadpool's grin widened as he turned to the reader—yes, you, dear reader. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun! Stick around, folks. Things are about to get interesting!" he spoke while striking a heroic pose. "And just when you thought things couldn't get any weirder, BAM, here I am," Deadpool continued, addressing the invisible audience. "Seriously, do you guys have popcorn? Because this is about to be a blockbuster hit!" I couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation reaching new heights. "Well, it's good to know that if we ever need a historian, we can call on you," Peter said, still chuckling despite Deadpool's sudden appearance. "But seriously, thanks for the laugh. I needed that." With Deadpool now in tow, our journey towards the Sanctum Sanctorum promised to be even more unpredictable. The city around us was alive with activity, but my mind was focused on the task ahead. Meeting Doctor Strange was an encounter like no other, and I hoped he had the answers we needed. As we swung through the vibrant tapestry of colors and lights, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. This was just the beginning of what promised to be a wild and unpredictable ride through the strange and mystical world of Marvel superheroes.

Deadpool bounced around like a hyperactive puppy, his red and black suit practically a blur. "Hey, what do you think you are doing, Wade?". Deadpool appeared, his grin as wide as ever behind his mask, but instead of addressing Peter or me, he turned his attention directly to the audience. "Hey there, folks! Yeah, you! The readers of this delightful narrative. Guess who just crashed the party?" He paused, as if listening to an imaginary response. "What's that? You want to know why I'm here? Well, let me tell you, I've got nothing better to do, and causing chaos is my middle name. Well, it's actually Wade, but you get the point." Deadpool leaned in closer, as if sharing a secret. "So, dear readers, what do you think? Should I join these two on their little quest? I mean, it's not like I have anything better to do. Oh wait, I do! But who cares about deadlines when you can have fun breaking the fourth wall?" With a dramatic gesture, he threw his arms wide. "Oh, this is going to be a ride, folks! Buckle up, because Deadpool's in the house! And don't worry, I'll make sure to keep things interesting. Now, where were we? Ah yes, saving the world and all that jazz. Let's get to it!"

"Would you get out of here; I am writing the story!" I interrupted, my patience wearing thin. Deadpool crossed his arms and pouted. "Oh, come on! I'm just spicing things up a bit. You're too serious!" he chuckled. "Deadpool, you're hijacking the narration," I insisted, trying to regain control. "Well, duh! It's what I do," Deadpool retorted, rolling his eyes behind the mask. "Besides, who wouldn't want to hear my charming commentary? You're welcome, by the way."

"Seriously, Wade, we have a plot to follow," I countered, determined not to let him derail the story. "Plot, schmot!" Deadpool scoffed. "The readers are here for the chaos and the laughs. Admit it, without me, this would just be another boring superhero story."

"Oh, that's it!" I exclaimed, frustration boiling over. Suddenly, a shadow appeared overhead, growing larger by the second. With a resounding crash, a grand piano plummeted from the sky and landed squarely on Deadpool. For a moment, there was silence. Then, from beneath the piano, Deadpool's muffled voice called out, "This isn't over, Narrator!" And with that, I regained control of the story, taking a deep breath and mentally preparing myself for whatever came next. The city around us continued its bustling activity, but my mind was focused on the task ahead. Meeting Doctor Strange was an encounter like no other, and I hoped he had the answers we needed.