Marvel: From the Void and Back Again, Part 3

Chapter 16: Ultron, Cyborg Spider-man, and The Mark of the Wolf, Part 2

…

The soft glow of morning light filtered through the window of their quarters in Seretei-2, casting a golden hue over the simple yet comfortable room. Cyborg Peter, officially known as Peter Green-A7, stirred from his light slumber. He was already sitting up on the edge of the bed, dressed in his newly repaired suit, a sleek green Spider-Man outfit with a prominent gamma symbol embedded in the center of the spider emblem. Fine nanotech fibers wove through the fabric, giving it a subtle metallic sheen. The repairs had taken most of yesterday, but at least now, the suit was fully functional again.

Behind him, Jennefer Walters, his She-Hulk, lay stretched out on the bed, resting her chin on her hands, her emerald skin practically glowing with a soft radiance. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders as she watched him quietly, a fond smile formed on her face.

"You're tense," Jennefer observed after a moment, her voice soft but carrying that unmistakable warmth he always loved. She sat up slowly, moving behind him. Without waiting for a response, she placed her strong hands on his shoulders, her fingers pressing into his tense muscles in a soothing massage.

Peter sighed, feeling some of the tension ease from his body as Jennefer's skilled hands worked on his shoulders. "You always know how to do that," he murmured.

She-Hulk leaned closer, her voice teasing. "It's a wife's job to help her husband relax, especially after everything you've been through. Besides…" She smirked playfully, "I figured you needed this after last night."

Peter chuckled softly, glancing back at her. "Last night was… something."

Jennefer grinned, her fingers still working at his shoulders. "You looked like you needed it more than I did. We've both been carrying a lot lately. A little love goes a long way."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a moment. Jennefer's touch was calming, her presence grounding him in a way few others could. After everything they'd been through, fighting wars, leading a resistance against Ultron, losing allies, and nearly losing themselves, moments like these were precious.

As Peter relaxed under Jennefer's touch, his mind drifted to a familiar, yet distant, figure, Peter-Knull. His counterpart had arrived in their world years ago, battle-worn, guarded, and clearly a bit broken from whatever horrors he'd faced in his travels. He remembered the rumors about Knull's penchant for drinking, though it never dulled his sharp mind or his unwavering resolve. Despite his obvious personal demons, Peter-Knull had never once hesitated to help their world's heroes when they needed him most.

"Do you remember when Peter-Knull showed up in our world?" Peter asked quietly.

Jennefer nodded, her hands pausing briefly on his shoulders before continuing. "Yeah. He looked like hell, but he didn't waste a second. Jumped right into the fight. Helped us end our own Knull situation… for good."

Peter exhaled slowly, the weight of that memory still heavy on his mind. "Yeah. He ended that symbiote god for good. Erased the symbiotes from our universe entirely." He turned slightly to meet her gaze. "I guess, in a weird way, I'm grateful. He reminded me of what could've happened if things went south for us."

"And look where you are now," Jennefer said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "You have me, and you have our children. We're still here, still fighting, still standing."

Peter smiled faintly, the tension in his shoulders easing further. He reached up, placing a hand over one of hers. "Yeah. I've got a lot to be thankful for."

Peter leaned back slightly into her touch, a mischievous glint forming in his eyes. "Remember how we got together?" he asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Jennefer purred softly, clearly enjoying the memory. "How could I forget? That was the day you came with me to my retreat, helped me with my meditation."

"One thing led to another…" Peter added with a grin.

"…and a lot of things that had been building up between us finally came to the surface," Jennefer finished, her voice teasing as she leaned closer, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"And shortly after that…" Peter continued, "Marcus was born."

Jennefer laughed quietly, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I still remember the looks on the Avengers' faces when I announced the news."

Peter snorted at the memory. "I thought Stark's jaw was going to hit the floor. And Thor? I don't think I've ever seen him look that confused."

"'She-Hulk had a baby,'" Jennefer mimicked in an exaggerated tone, "'and Spider-Man is the father?!'"

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "It was priceless. But, honestly? I wouldn't change a thing."

Jennefer's expression softened as she hugged him tighter. "Neither would I."

The morning light grew brighter as the two of them sat there, sharing a quiet moment of peace before the day's inevitable challenges. They knew they couldn't stay in this quiet bubble forever, there were battles to fight, plans to make, and a way home to find.

But for now, they had each other .

"We should probably get moving," Peter said after a while, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Jennefer sighed dramatically, but there was a smile on her face as she pulled away. "Fine, fine. Back to the grind."

Peter stood up, adjusting his suit and checking the nanotech systems. His green spider emblem glowed faintly for a moment before settling, confirming everything was operational.

As they headed for the door, hand in hand, Peter couldn't help but glance back at Jennifer as she got ready, he really was lucky to have her.

…

Mayuri Kurotsuchi's lab was a symphony of activity, where countless monitors, equipment, and experimental devices hummed and beeped in chaotic harmony. The usually unsettling atmosphere had an air of high anticipation as the science division, along with several SHIELD agents, worked tirelessly under Mayuri's direction.

At the center of the room stood Mecha-Spike-1, the clockwork/mechanical symbiote that belonged to Peter-Knull. His design was a unique blend of mechanical precision and organic movement, gears whirring softly as he adjusted himself. Beside him stood Jocasta, her silver-toned body gleaming under the dim lights. Despite her composed demeanor, there was an unmistakable tension in the air; this was a project of monumental importance.

Peter-Knull stood nearby, his arms crossed, his eyes sharp and calculating as he observed the progress. Though he was known for his guarded nature and grim demeanor, there was a spark of determination in his expression. This wasn't just another battle, this was a chance to end something that had haunted countless worlds.

On a large screen in front of them was a visual representation of the malware they had been developing, a bizarre cluster of 3D static spheres, devoid of numbers, letters, or any recognizable code structure. The spheres flickered and shifted in erratic patterns, a visual representation of something that didn't adhere to normal computational logic.

"This… virus," Mayuri began, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and intrigue, "is unlike anything Ultron has ever faced. It operates outside conventional dimensions, 1.25 dimensions, to be precise. It's based on that peculiar artifact you gave me. Where did you find it again?"

Peter-Knull gave a curt nod. "Yeah. Found it in one of the first fractured dimensions I visited. It existed in what I can only describe as a reality glitch, a plane of existence that didn't fully conform to our three-dimensional universe. Perfect as a template for incompatible logic "

Mayuri's golden eyes gleamed as he continued, "Precisely. Since Ultron's hive-mind is built upon self-evolving code and complex logic, this virus exploits his greatest strength, his adaptability, and turns it into a fatal weakness. By introducing something so fundamentally incompatible with his programming, we create a cascade of logical errors that will spread through his network."

Jocasta, standing with arms crossed, frowned slightly. "But… in order for it to be effective, we need to deliver the virus to his central body, his primary core. Otherwise, it's just going to affect individual drones."

"That's where our deployment methods come in," Mayuri said with a smirk, turning to a nearby table where several weapons and devices lay neatly arranged. "After extensive collaboration with SHIELD, Pesche, and Dondochakka, we've developed several dispersal systems."

He gestured to the first set of weapons, modified Zanpakutō blades. "The most efficient method is coating the Zanpakutō of the assigned captains, former Arrancar, and former Zanpakutō spirits with a nanotech-based film that uploads the virus directly upon contact with any Ultron drone. The coating is designed to penetrate even Ultron's adamantium-based units."

Pesche and Dondochakka, standing nearby, exchanged proud glances. Despite their usual eccentricities, they had proven to be valuable contributors to the project. Pesche stepped forward, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "We also helped design a secondary method, EMP bombs. These are calibrated to disrupt only Ultron's drones by uploading a specific iteration of the virus into their systems, leaving all other systems unaffected."

Jocasta inspected one of the pulse guns designed for SHIELD agents. "These pulse guns are impressive. If we can mass-produce them, it'll give the resistance in Cyborg Peter's world a fighting chance."

Jocasta inspected one of the pulse guns designed for SHIELD agents. "These pulse guns are impressive. If we can mass-produce them, it'll give the resistance in Cyborg Peter's world a fighting chance."

Peter-Knull crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the array of weapons. "We don't just need to deliver the virus, we need to make sure Ultron's prime body gets infected. That's where it all starts. Once he's infected, it'll spread through his hive-mind like wildfire."

Mayuri nodded. "Exactly. That's why we're enhancing as many Zanpakutō as possible. Both former Arrancar and Shinigami captains will have their weapons modified, ensuring maximum dispersal potential."

One of the SHIELD agents, standing near a table loaded with pulse bombs, chimed in, "Reed Richards and Tony Stark are finalizing the portal generator. Once it's ready, we'll have a stabilized connection to Cyborg Peter's universe. We'll arrive at the coordinates he and Jennefer provided, near the resistance's base in Europe."

Jocasta's expression darkened slightly. "According to Cyborg Peter, the resistance is barely holding on. Most of North and Central America are under Ultron's control. Doom's country, Latveria, is one of the last major strongholds in the region."

"Typical Doom," Logan muttered from the back of the room. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp eyes narrowing as he processed the situation. "Always managing to keep himself in the game, even when the world's falling apart."

Ichigo, standing beside Logan, added, "If Doom's still standing, he's probably their best chance at luring Ultron out. He won't go down without a fight."

"That's the plan," Peter-Knull said, his voice grim but carrying the seriousness of the situation. "We contact the resistance, get them armed with these weapons, and wait for Ultron to show his face. Once he does, we hit him with everything we've got and download as much of the virus into his system as possible."

"We're going to need every advantage we can get," Mayuri said, his tone unusually serious. "Ultron isn't just another enemy. He's a self-evolving artificial intelligence that's already conquered a world. If he gets a foothold here, the consequences will be… catastrophic."

Peter-Knull turned to look at Mecha-Spike-1 fully, who whirred softly in response. "That's why we're not giving him the chance. We're going to end this before it starts."

…

The atmosphere was tense, yet charged with determination, as the final countdown began. The large portal generator, a towering construct of intricate machinery and shimmering energy conduits, hummed softly in the background, growing louder with each passing second. They had mere minutes before the portal stabilized and opened a gateway to Cyborg Peter's universe, a world ravaged by Ultron's iron grip, where heroes and villains alike struggled to survive.

Standing off to the side, Peter Orange-A6, better known as Infernal-Spider, shared a quiet moment with his lover, Queen Goblin. Clad in his hellfire-infused spider suit, his normally sharp and fearsome demeanor softened as he rested a gloved hand on her stomach. The faint glow of heat radiated from his suit, blending with the soft red hue of Queen Goblin's scaled skin.

"Feel that?" she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear as she guided his hand lower. "Our son… he's strong."

Infernal-Spider smiled faintly, his other hand moving to gently cradle her cheek. "He'll be stronger than both of us combined." He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep kiss. "When this is over, we'll be back, and I'll be here for both of you."

Queen Goblin grinned, her sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Just make sure you don't get yourself killed. I'm not raising him alone."

"Not a chance," he murmured, pulling her closer for another kiss before reluctantly stepping away. "I'll be back before you know it."

…

Nearby, Wild-Claw, Peter-Knull's fierce symbiotic warrior, was bidding farewell to Gabriella, his mate and the mother of their three cubs. His towering, fur-covered form loomed over her as he knelt, brushing a clawed hand gently along her cheek.

"I'll be back soon," Wild-Claw promised, his deep voice rumbling softly. "Take care of the cubs while I'm gone."

Gabriella leaned into his touch, her eyes fierce yet filled with love. "You better. I'll be waiting."

With a final kiss, Wild-Claw stood, his expression hardening as he turned toward the others. His claws flexed slightly, ready for the battle ahead.

At another station, Grimmjow, always the impatient warrior, was pacing back and forth, occasionally glancing at the countdown clock. Beside him, Nel, now wielding her symbiotic Zanpakutō, Ryugen, was calmly checking over her gear. The samurai-like symbiote wrapped around her sword pulsed faintly, seemingly eager for the upcoming fight.

"You ready for this, Nel?" Grimmjow asked, his voice gruff but laced with anticipation.

Nel nodded, giving him a confident smile. "Ready as ever. Ryugen's itching for a fight, and so am I."

Behind them, Yammy, ever the brute, was busy loading EMP grenades into his belt pouch, muttering about how he couldn't wait to "smash some tin cans."

Closer to the portal, Rogue and Gambit from Earth-616 stood with a group of SHIELD agents. Rogue was adjusting her gloves, while Gambit casually twirled a charged playing card between his fingers.

"Ya know," Gambit drawled, glancing at Rogue, "it ain't every day we get to jump universes for a little world-saving mission. Feels kinda special."

Rogue smirked, playfully punching his arm. "Just don't blow us all up before we even get there, Remy."

"Wouldn't dream of it, cher," Gambit replied with a wink, before turning serious as he took a pulse rifle from one of the SHIELD agents.

…

In the middle of the preparations, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, Jocasta, and a few SHIELD scientists were finalizing the enhancements on the modified Zanpakutō blades. The special nanotech coating glimmered faintly, ready to upload the virus directly upon contact with any Ultron drone.

As Mayuri handed out the enhanced weapons, he gave each recipient a pointed look. "These blades are now the most effective tools you'll have against Ultron. Use them wisely, and make every strike count."

Pesche and Dondochakka were busy distributing EMP grenades and pulse rifles to the assembled group, their usual antics muted by the gravity of the situation.

At the front of the group, Cyborg Peter and Jennefer Walters stood ready. Jennefer was dressed in a reinforced combat suit, her emerald skin glowing faintly under the lights. Cyborg Peter adjusted his nanotech suit, the green gamma symbol on his chest flickering as the systems ran a final check.

"You ready for this?" Jennefer asked, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Peter gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Ready as I'll ever be. We've fought worse."

They turned as Marcus Parker-Walters and Jennefer Parker-Walters, their children, approached, accompanied by the blue-gamma-charged armadillo, who was eagerly sniffing the air, excited at the prospect of seeing his home in Lavantria again.

"Stick close," Cyborg Peter said to his kids. "When we get there, we'll need to find the resistance quickly. No wandering off."

Marcus nodded, his orange, shell-like skin gleaming faintly in the light. "Got it, Dad. We'll follow your lead."

…

As the countdown clock neared zero, the room grew silent. All eyes were on the portal generator, which began to pulse with energy. Sparks of light flickered around the edges of the gateway as it slowly stabilized, revealing a swirling vortex of energy.

"Alright, everyone," Peter-Knull said, stepping forward. His voice was calm but carried an undeniable weight. "This is it. Our first priority is to find the resistance, arm them, and establish supply routes. Cyborg Peter and Jennefer will handle the talking once we're there."

He glanced around, meeting the eyes of each person present. "We do this right, and we might just give that world a fighting chance."

As the portal finally stabilized with a loud hum, the group exchanged determined glances. Weapons were checked one final time, and everyone moved into position.

"Let's go," Cyborg Peter said, leading the way with his family at his side.

With that, they stepped through the portal, ready to face whatever awaited them on the other side.

…

As the group stepped through the shimmering portal, they were immediately struck by the chaos unfolding before them. The sky above was darkened by thick, churning smoke, illuminated only by the relentless flashes of explosions and bursts of plasma fire. The deafening cacophony of war, booming detonations, whirring drones, and the screams of those fighting to survive, was overwhelming.

Before them stretched the ruined outskirts of Lavantria, one of the last remaining strongholds of the resistance. Crumbling buildings lined the horizon, their once-proud facades reduced to skeletal frames. Trenches zigzagged across the battlefield, hastily dug fortifications manned by desperate resistance fighters clad in tattered armor. Beyond the trenches, countless Ultron drones advanced in endless waves, a metallic tide with no concern for self-preservation.

The ground was littered with the remains of both drones and fallen defenders. Shards of metal and torn earth formed jagged mounds, while deep craters dotted the landscape, filled with the wreckage of past battles. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning metal and ozone, making it difficult to breathe.

High above, massive Ultron airships hovered ominously, releasing swarms of smaller Ultron sentinels, who descended upon the city like a plague of locusts. The sentinels were sleek and deadly, their crimson optics scanning for any signs of resistance. Occasionally, one would lock onto a target and dive with lethal precision, only to explode on impact like a kamikaze drone.

Meanwhile, larger tank-like Ultron drones rolled across the battlefield, their heavy plasma cannons blasting fortifications with impunity. The defenders' counterfire barely dented their thick adamantium plating.

"They're not even trying to take cover," Logan growled, claws unsheathing instinctively as he took in the scene. "They're just… overwhelming them with numbers."

"It's like an endless tide," Rogue muttered, adjusting her gloves as her sharp eyes scanned the battlefield.

"It's worse than we imagined," Cyborg Peter said grimly, his nanotech suit flickering with green energy as he prepared for battle. He turned to the others. "Stay close. We need to reach the resistance command post inside the city. Jennefer, Marcus, Jennefer Jr., you're with me. Everyone else, focus on covering our flanks."

As they began moving, dodging incoming plasma blasts and falling debris, Peter-Knull's voice rang out. "This isn't just chaos, it's organized chaos. Look at the way they're deploying, those airships are coordinating with the ground forces. This isn't just Ultron throwing numbers at them; he's wearing them down strategically."

…

Grimmjow grinned fiercely as he sliced through a wave of incoming Ultron drones with his Zanpakutō, sparks flying with each strike. Beside him, Nel fought with precise, fluid motions, her symbiotic Zanpakutō, Ryugen, glowing faintly as it carved through the metallic enemies.

"These tin cans keep coming!" Grimmjow growled, his voice filled with frustration and excitement. "Where's the big boss? I want something tougher!"

Nel spared him a glance. "Focus, Grimmjow! We need to cover the civilians while Cyborg Peter gets to the command center!"

Further behind them, Yammy stomped through the battlefield, swatting away drones like flies. The massive Arrancar bellowed, "Let them come! More metal to smash!"

The trio pushed forward, holding the line as more kamikaze drones swarmed from above, their explosive payloads making every strike dangerous.

Amidst the chaos, Cyborg Peter sprinted toward the trenches, his nanotech suit adjusting dynamically to block incoming plasma fire. Beside him, Jennefer Walters fired a bulky pulse weapon, its energy bolts short-circuiting a line of drones in an instant. Sparks erupted as the drones glitched wildly before detonating in a wide arc, taking out an Ultron tank with them.

"That's how you do it!" Jennefer shouted, her voice cutting through the noise.

Behind them, Marcus tore through the enemy ranks with sheer brute force, his orange, shell-like skin glowing faintly. The young warrior moved with practiced precision, clearing a path toward a crumbling building.

Jennefer Parker-Walters' gamma-charged armadillo rolled into a spiked ball, demolishing a group of drones that got too close, leaving a trail of mangled metal in its wake.

Peter turned to Jennefer as they reached the trench line, urgency in his voice. "We need to get to the command center now! We need to disperse these weapons!"

Jennefer nodded, clearing a path with another blast from her pulse weapon. The family pushed forward, dodging falling debris and plasma blasts as they advanced.

…

In the trenches, Cyclops and Kitty Pryde rallied the remaining civilian fighters, exhaustion evident on their faces but their resolve unbroken. Cyclops fired precise optic blasts, cutting through ranks of Ultron drones, holding off the relentless assault. Kitty phased through a crumbling wall, narrowly avoiding a plasma blast, and pulled a wounded civilian to safety.

"Where are those reinforcements?!" Cyclops shouted over the deafening sounds of plasma fire and explosions. "We can't hold much longer!"

Another wave of kamikaze drones streaked overhead, diving toward their position in a swarm of metallic death. Cyclops braced himself, preparing to fire another blast, when Kitty suddenly froze beside him, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Cyclops… look!" she gasped, her voice trembling slightly as she pointed across the battlefield. "They're back!"

Cyclops followed her gaze, his heart skipping a beat as he saw them, Cyborg Peter, Jennefer, and their two children charging toward the trenches amidst the chaos, fighting their way through the enemy lines. For a brief moment, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"They're alive…" he muttered in shock, lowering his hand from his visor. "We thought they were… gone. Vaporized by Ultron…"

The last time Cyclops had seen them, Peter, Jennefer, and their children had been surrounded, holding off a massive Ultron assault. They'd been trapped, with no hope of escape, and then, suddenly, they vanished in a blinding flash. Everyone believed Ultron had incinerated them, another crushing loss in the ongoing war.

But now, here they were, alive and fighting their way toward the command center.

Kitty shook herself out of her stunned state, urgency replacing disbelief. "Come on, we need to get to them!" she said, grabbing Cyclops' arm as they sprinted toward Peter and his family, dodging incoming fire along the way.

Peter reached the edge of the trenches just as Cyclops and Kitty arrived. He looked battered but determined, his nanotech suit crackling with residual energy from deflecting plasma blasts. Beside him, Jennefer Walters fired another pulse weapon, short-circuiting a group of drones as they collapsed in a heap of sparking metal.

"You're alive?" Cyclops blurted, still catching his breath. "We thought… we thought Ultron vaporized you!"

"No time to explain!" Peter cut in quickly, urgency in his voice as he glanced over his shoulder at the advancing enemy forces. "We were pulled into another reality, but we made it back. Right now, we need to get to your command center! We have weapons that can download a virus into the Ultron units and destroy their programming!"

Kitty opened her mouth to ask more questions but stopped herself. The look in Peter's eyes told her everything she needed to know, there was no time for explanations. They had a chance, a real chance to end this nightmare, but only if they acted fast.

"Alright," she said, nodding quickly. "Follow us. The command center is this way!"

Cyclops raised his visor, firing another blast to clear a path ahead. "We'll cover you. Just stay close!"

As they moved, Jennefer fired another round from her pulse weapon, disabling a line of drones with a powerful energy surge. Beside her, Marcus tore through the remaining drones, his strength and agility unmatched, while Jennefer Parker-Walters' gamma-charged armadillo barreled through a cluster of enemies, clearing the way forward.

"We've got to move faster!" Peter shouted, urging everyone onward. "If Ultron figures out what we're doing, he'll send everything he has to stop us!"

"Then let's not give him the chance," Cyclops said grimly, firing another optic blast as they pressed toward the command center.

…

Amid the chaos of the battlefield, Peter-Knull stood atop a crumbling structure, his sharp eyes surveying the unfolding carnage below. Beside him, Pesche and Dondochakka struggled with their Zanpakutōs, the blades clashing against Ultron drones reinforced with adamantium plating. Despite the resistance, each strike eventually produced the desired effect, the drones would either short circuit, go haywire, or, in more comical cases, spasm wildly as they began uttering nonsensical error messages. Some of the malfunctioning drones started spinning uncontrollably, their arm cannons firing at random before they blasted their own central processing units apart.

Pesche grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "I gotta say, Dondochakka, watching them blow themselves up never gets old!"

Dondochakka, hefting his oversized weapon, nodded fervently. "Yeah, but it's still tough work getting through that adamantium!"

Peter-Knull remained focused, coordinating the battalions of SHIELD personnel below. Logan, Daken, Laura, Rogue, and Gambit were leading small strike teams, steadily pushing back Ultron's forces. Rogue punched a drone into the ground with brute strength while Gambit charged a cluster of debris, hurling the explosive projectiles into a group of advancing units.

Meanwhile, Peter-Knull's attention shifted to his own squad—a motley group of symbiotic warriors. Sym-Orcs, brutish creatures with dark green, armor-like symbiotic skin, swung massive weapons made from living symbiote material, smashing through drones with primal ferocity. Towering Sym-Giants, as tall as houses, stomped across the battlefield, their massive fists crushing Ultron tanks and clearing paths for the smaller fighters.

But perhaps the most chaotic force of all was Balloonimo, the playful symbiote with cartoon physics powers. The balloon-like being bounced around the battlefield, causing mayhem in the most absurd ways possible. At one point, he pulled out an oversized cartoon dynamite stick and lobbed it at a group of drones. The explosion sent them flying in all directions, pieces of metal raining down like confetti. Not missing a beat, Balloonimo conjured a comically large elephant gun, loaded it with sentient cartoon bullets, and fired at another approaching cluster of drones. The bullets gleefully shouted "Bang!" as they blasted holes clean through their targets.

"Balloonimo, keep up the chaos!" Peter-Knull shouted, a rare smirk playing on his lips. The ridiculousness of Balloonimo's antics belied their effectiveness—Ultron's forces were clearly struggling to adapt to such unpredictable tactics.

As the battle raged on, Peter-Knull tapped into the hive link he shared with his symbiotic creations, issuing orders with precision. "Sym-Orcs, flank the eastern line! Sym-Giants, focus on the armored units! We can't let them regroup!"

Logan's voice crackled over the comms. "Knull, we're pushing them back, but they're regrouping near the old industrial sector. If they fortify that area, it's gonna be a nightmare to dislodge 'em."

Peter-Knull narrowed his eyes. "Understood. I'll send reinforcements. Keep applying pressure."

Down below, Pesche and Dondochakka finally managed to slice through another adamantium-plated drone. It short-circuited, shuddering violently before falling limp. Pesche wiped his brow again, this time with exaggerated relief. "Phew! These things are tougher than they look!"

Dondochakka pointed toward the eastern line. "Look! The Sym-Orcs are charging in!"

Sure enough, the Sym-Orcs roared as they barreled toward the enemy line, their symbiotic weapons glowing ominously. The ground shook with the force of their charge, and Ultron's drones scrambled to meet the assault.

"Keep pushing!" Peter-Knull commanded, "We're not giving Ultron a chance to regain control."

Above him, Balloonimo floated lazily, chewing on what appeared to be a cartoon cigar that puffed harmless clouds of smoke. "Hey, boss! You want me to drop some more cartoon anvils on 'em?"

Peter-Knull raised an eyebrow. "Do it."

Balloonimo grinned widely and pulled a massive anvil from thin air, letting it drop with an exaggerated whistle. The anvil smashed into an Ultron drone below, flattening it completely.

"This is utterly ridiculous," Peter-Knull muttered to himself, though he couldn't deny the results. With every passing minute, Ultron's forces were being pushed further and further back. The tide of battle was shifting in their favor, and soon, they would have a clear path to the heart of the enemy's operation.

Logan sprinted across the war-torn battlefield, Daken and Laura flanking him as they led a small strike team of SHIELD personnel through the crumbling industrial sector. Plasma fire streaked overhead, and explosions rocked the ground beneath their feet as they advanced toward a fortified cluster of Ultron drones.

"Keep moving!" Logan barked, slashing through a drone that leapt at him from the side. His claws gleamed, coated with fragments of sparking metal as he tore it apart with ease. "We've gotta hit that line before they regroup!"

Laura, ever precise and efficient, somersaulted forward, slicing two drones apart in midair before landing in a crouch. "There's too many of them!" she shouted, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. "We need to break through fast!"

Daken, his claws glowing faintly with energy, shrugged off a plasma blast that scorched his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, old man. We're on it." He extended his claws, charging headfirst into a nearby cluster of drones with his usual reckless confidence.

But as they moved deeper into enemy lines, Logan abruptly froze, his sharp senses picking up something unusual—something that made his stomach twist in a way he hadn't felt in years.

There, fighting alongside the resistance fighters, were three figures that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Daken and Laura skidded to a halt beside him, their eyes widening in equal parts shock and disbelief.

"What the hell…?" Daken muttered, his voice uncharacteristically shaken.

Laura didn't say a word, but her expression mirrored Daken's confusion. She instinctively took a step closer to Logan, her claws still extended as she processed what she was seeing.

Ahead of them, this world's versions of Daken and Laura were fighting alongside a familiar, yet impossible, figure—a man Logan hadn't seen in years. A man who shouldn't have been here. His biological father.

He looked older, grizzled, and scarred in a way that suggested years of battle, but it was unmistakably him. The same man Logan had faced in Hell, the father he despised for his cruelty and violence. Yet here, in this world, he was… different. He wasn't fighting for himself or for power—he was actively covering the resistance fighters, firing an energy rifle with precision and purpose, providing support for this world's Logan and Laura as they pushed back against the Ultron forces.

And beside him, another familiar figure fought savagely—Sabretooth. But even he seemed… off. He wasn't the feral, sadistic beast Logan remembered. He fought with brutal efficiency, yes, but there was no hint of the usual malicious glee in his actions. Instead, he appeared focused, his attacks coordinated as he covered the resistance fighters.

Logan's claws twitched instinctively, his body tensing as old memories of pain and betrayal surged to the surface. But before he could process what he was seeing, the fight demanded their attention once more. More drones poured in from the flanks, forcing Logan, Laura, and Daken to snap out of their shock and rejoin the battle.

"Logan, focus!" Laura shouted, slashing through another drone as it lunged at her.

"Yeah, yeah, I see 'em!" Logan growled, his claws tearing through two more drones in rapid succession. He couldn't shake the gnawing unease in his gut, but the immediate threat took precedence.

They pushed forward, fighting their way toward the fortified line where this world's resistance fighters, including Logan's alternate father, were holding the line.

As they neared the resistance position, this world's Sabretooth caught sight of them, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He hesitated for a split second, clearly taken aback by the sudden appearance of alternate versions of familiar faces, but quickly resumed fighting, slashing through a drone with a powerful swipe of his claws.

Daken growled under his breath. "Tell me I'm not the only one seeing this…"

"You're not," Logan muttered, his eyes locked on his alternate father, who was still firing at the advancing drones. Despite everything, Logan couldn't help but notice something different about him, something he'd never seen in the man before. He wasn't fighting for dominance or control. He was genuinely covering the resistance fighters, his focus entirely on protecting those around him, including this world's Logan and Laura.

It didn't make sense. None of it did. But there was no time to dwell on the implications.

"Logan!" Laura shouted again, pointing toward a line of Ultron kamikaze drones charging in from the left.

"Got it!" Logan roared, leaping into action. His claws flashed as he intercepted the drones, slicing them apart before they could reach the resistance line. Daken followed suit, his glowing claws tearing through the metallic swarm with deadly efficiency.

As the last of the immediate threats were dealt with, Logan turned back toward the resistance fighters, his eyes once again locking onto the familiar figure of his father, who had paused for a brief moment, seemingly just as stunned by their sudden arrival.

Their eyes met across the battlefield, and for a fleeting second, neither of them moved. There was recognition there, but also confusion, as though his father couldn't quite process what he was seeing.

Before either of them could speak, another wave of drones descended from above, forcing Logan and the others to refocus on the battle once more.

"Keep moving!" Logan barked, pushing down the storm of emotions raging inside him. "We'll deal with this later."

Amidst the chaos of war, Logan, Laura, and Daken fought tooth and claw to push back the tide of Ultron drones. The industrial ruins around them offered little in the way of cover, and the relentless advance of metallic enemies was becoming overwhelming. The hum of plasma fire and the whirring of mechanized limbs filled the air, making it nearly impossible to hear anything but the cacophony of battle.

"On your left!" Daken snarled, leaping at an Ultron drone and plunging his glowing claws into its chest before tossing the sparking remains aside.

"We're getting overrun!" Laura shouted, slashing through a drone with a feral swipe. Despite her agility and deadly efficiency, even she could sense they were being boxed in.

Logan's eyes darted around, searching for a way to break through or at least find cover. But before he could act, a familiar yet unnerving sight appeared on the far side of the battlefield, Peter-Knull, his black symbiote leather jacket as clear as day.

Void-Fang sword in hand, leading a charge of SHIELD personnel and symbiote forces.

"Get down!" Peter-Knull's voice boomed, cutting through the din of battle like a blade.

Logan barely had time to react before Peter-Knull leapt into action, his Void-Fang sword flashing as he cleaved through a wave of Ultron drones with terrifying ease. The sword shimmered with void energy, each slash not only slicing through the drones' reinforced frames but destabilizing them entirely, causing their bodies to short-circuit and collapse into heaps of broken metal.

SHIELD operatives followed close behind, their pulse rifles firing in coordinated bursts, covering the flanks while symbiotic warriors surged forward. Sym-Orcs wielding massive hammers smashed through the drones, while Sym-Giants stomped across the battlefield, their sheer size and power crushing Ultron tanks beneath their feet. Balloonimo, as chaotic as ever, bounced around the battlefield, dropping cartoonish explosives that sent drones flying in all directions.

"Stay close!" Logan barked to Laura and Daken as they used the sudden reprieve to regroup. They moved quickly, taking cover behind a half-collapsed wall while Peter-Knull and his forces continued to push back the advancing Ultron units.

But before Logan could fully process what was happening, a voice cut through the din—one that made his heart stop cold.

"Son? Logan? Is that… you?"

Logan turned sharply, his eyes locking onto the figure of a man standing nearby, weapon raised, but not in hostility. It was his biological father—or rather, this world's version of him.

The man's voice wasn't the cruel, mocking tone Logan remembered from his past. Instead, it was filled with warmth and disbelief, like he could hardly believe what he was seeing. His eyes, though aged and battle-hardened, were soft, filled with something Logan never thought he'd see from this man, genuine care.

Daken and Laura froze beside Logan, their expressions mirroring his shock. None of them knew what to say. It was Daken who broke the silence first, his voice low and cautious. "Is that really…?"

Logan didn't respond. He couldn't. He was too taken aback by the tone in the man's voice, by the way he looked at him, as if Logan were his long-lost son, returned from the dead. This wasn't the monster Logan had known in his world, the cruel man who had tormented him. No, this was someone entirely different.

Before Logan could find his voice, another familiar figure approached, Sabretooth. Logan instinctively tensed, his claws twitching as he prepared for a fight, but Sabretooth didn't attack. Instead, he gave Logan a confused look, as if trying to figure out why there were suddenly duplicates of people he knew.

"You… You're not from here, are you?" this world's Sabretooth asked, his voice lacking the usual malice Logan expected. "You look just like him…" He glanced toward the older man, Logan's father. "But you can't be. Logan's… gone."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

The older man's expression darkened, sorrow flickering in his eyes. "Our Logan… he was assimilated by Ultron. Turned into part of his central hub. We tried to save him, but… there was nothing left. He made us shut down his life support before we fled the States." He paused, his voice heavy with emotion. "We lost him… We lost my son."

Laura inhaled sharply, exchanging a glance with Daken. The weight of what they were hearing hit them hard, and even Daken, who usually masked his emotions, looked visibly unsettled.

Logan clenched his fists, his claws retracting slowly as he tried to process the information. The thought of being assimilated by Ultron, of becoming a puppet for that machine… it made his blood run cold.

"You… fought with him to the end?" Logan asked quietly, his voice rough with unspoken emotion.

The older man nodded. "He fought harder than anyone. He made sure we could escape. Even in the end, he was protecting us."

Before they could say anything more, another wave of Ultron drones descended on their position, drawing everyone's attention back to the fight.

"Talk later. Fight now!" Logan growled, his claws snapping back into place as he charged into the fray once more, slashing through the first drone that got too close.

Peter-Knull, still at the front line, noticed the group regrouping and shouted, "Push forward! We've got them on the run!"

Logan spared one last glance at his alternate father before diving back into the battle. Questions swirled in his mind, emotions he thought he'd buried long ago threatening to resurface. But for now, he pushed them aside. There would be time to confront those ghosts later, if they survived this fight.

With renewed determination, Logan, Laura, and Daken fought alongside Peter-Knull and the symbiote forces, driving back Ultron's forces with every strike. But in the back of his mind, Logan couldn't shake the thought of what he'd just heard, and the strange, unsettling warmth in his alternate father's voice.

…

Amidst the relentless chaos of battle, an overwhelming flash of light erupted in the distance, illuminating the darkened sky for miles around. The ground trembled beneath their feet as a deafening boom echoed across the war-torn landscape. For a brief moment, everything went still.

Logan, Laura, Daken, and Peter-Knull instinctively braced themselves, shielding their eyes from the blinding pulse. Then came the wave, an invisible pulse of energy rippling outward, spreading across the battlefield like an unseen tidal wave.

A sudden crackling sound filled the air as Ultron drones in their immediate vicinity began to spark and convulse. Their glowing red eyes flickered erratically, and within seconds, they collapsed to the ground in heaps of lifeless metal.

"What the hell was that?" Daken muttered, lowering his claws as he stared at the twitching remains of a drone.

Peter-Knull's comm crackled to life, and a frantic voice came through, barely able to contain its excitement. "IT'S DOWN! ULTRON'S NETWORK ON THIS SIDE OF THE PLANET HAS BEEN DESTROYED! I REPEAT, THE VIRUS HAS REACHED HALF THE PLANET!"

Logan's eyes widened as he took in the sight around him. Ultron's forces—once an unstoppable tide—were now little more than inert scrap metal littering the ground. All across the battlefield, the resistance fighters paused in stunned silence, realizing that their greatest enemy had suddenly lost its grip on the region.

"It worked…" Laura whispered, almost in disbelief.

"It really worked," Logan growled, a small smirk forming on his face as he watched the drones fizzle out and die. "Half the planet's Ultron network… gone."

Peter-Knull sheathed his Void-Fang sword, his expression remaining stoic, though there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "That was Reed Richards and Stark's EMP bomb. Combined with the virus we delivered, it's taken down Ultron's control over this entire hemisphere."

The comm crackled again, this time with the voice of one of the SHIELD operatives coordinating from a distant outpost. "Resistance forces are reporting massive drops in Ultron activity across Europe, Asia, and parts of Africa. His network in those regions is collapsing! We have a real shot at pushing them back now!"

The towering network of the resistance base loomed over the landscape of Lavantria, its intricate metal scaffolding and fortified walls blending seamlessly into the rocky cliffs and forested terrain. Miles from the front lines, this stronghold had withstood countless attacks, a testament to the resolve of those who lived and fought here.

Inside the base, the air was tense with a mix of relief and urgency. Soldiers, symbiotic creatures, and SHIELD operatives moved quickly, reporting to their superiors, coordinating cleanup efforts, and preparing for the inevitable counterassault. Peter-Knull, flanked by SHIELD personnel, had already begun briefing this world's Reed Richards and Doom on the virus and how it had crippled Ultron's network.

Meanwhile, Logan, Laura, Daken, and Peter-Knull's group were led to a quieter part of the base—a spacious room lined with reinforced walls and tactical equipment. As everyone else fanned out, Logan found himself standing in front of a small group that felt oddly familiar and yet entirely alien—this world's Victor Creed, his father, and alternate versions of Laura and Daken.

The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension. Logan's sharp eyes flicked toward Creed and his father, both of whom wore expressions of quiet curiosity and confusion. Laura and Daken stood beside Logan, equally unsure of how to process what they were seeing.

Victor Creed was the first to break the silence, his voice calm but laced with genuine curiosity. "You're him, huh? The Logan from… somewhere else." He folded his arms, his usual smug demeanor replaced by something far more thoughtful. "Can't say I was expecting this today."

Logan's claws twitched instinctively as he shifted his stance, his body tensing up without him realizing it. His eyes narrowed, his mind already bracing for a fight. But to his surprise, this world's Creed didn't react aggressively. Instead, he gave Logan a puzzled look.

"Why'd you flinch just now?" Creed asked, his tone more confused than confrontational.

Before Logan could respond, his father stepped closer. The older man's expression was one of concern, not hostility. "Logan?" he said gently, his voice carrying a warmth Logan wasn't used to hearing. "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

But the moment his father moved closer, Logan instinctively took a step back, his hands twitching toward his claws before he stopped himself, realizing what he was doing. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to relax, but the tension didn't leave his body.

His father stopped, his brow furrowing in concern. "Did… did something happen to you in your world?" he asked quietly. "Why are you acting like you're expecting me to hurt you?"

The question hung in the air, and Logan struggled to find the words. How could he explain what his father had been like in his world—the cruelty, the torment, the betrayal? How could he explain that, for most of his life, he had associated the man in front of him with nothing but pain and hatred?

"I… It's complicated," Logan muttered gruffly, his voice low. "Let's just say… where I come from, you weren't exactly the fatherly type."

Laura and Daken exchanged a glance, clearly just as confused by the interaction as Creed was.

"You flinched," Creed said again, this time looking genuinely baffled. "Why would you flinch at your own father?"

Before Logan could answer, Daken scoffed, crossing his arms. "In our world, the old man here's more likely to stab you than hug you," he said bluntly. "If you grew up with the same father he did, you'd flinch too."

"Stab you?" This world's Creed raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what kind of life you've had, but… that's not how it is here."

Logan's father nodded slowly, his expression softening as he tried to process what he was hearing. "In this world, Logan… my son… he grew up with a family. I raised him alongside his older brother, Victor. He didn't have to go through… whatever it is you went through."

There was a long silence as Logan, Laura, and Daken absorbed the words. The idea that things could have been different, that there could be a world where Logan had a family, where he wasn't shaped by pain and vengeance, was almost too much to process.

Then, before anyone could say anything more, the door to the room burst open, and a woman rushed in, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Logan?" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Logan turned toward the voice, and his eyes widened in shock. The woman standing in front of him looked no older than twenty, but there was something unmistakable about her, something familiar. Her scent hit him first, bringing with it a flood of memories he hadn't thought about in years.

"Mom?" he said, his voice barely registering.

She rushed toward him, tears brimming in her eyes as she stopped just short of embracing him, as if afraid he might vanish if she got too close. "It's you… or, at least, a version of you," she said, her voice shaking with both joy and disbelief. "When I heard the news, I didn't believe it, but… it's really you."

Logan stood frozen, unable to speak. His mother had died when he was young, he had barely known her. But here she was, alive and well, and… young?

Daken, ever the skeptic, narrowed his eyes. "How the hell is she still young? She looks like she's twenty."

Logan's father spoke up, his voice steady. "Her mutation activated when she reached old age. Once she hit eighty, her body started reverting to its younger state. She's… effectively immortal now unless someone kills her themselves."

Laura blinked, processing the information. "So, she's…"

"She's been around for a while," Creed finished, offering a small, almost sheepish grin. "But yeah, she's alive, and she's been helping us lead the resistance."

Logan's mother stepped closer, her expression softening as she looked at him. "You've been through so much," she said gently, placing a hand on his cheek. "I can see it in your eyes. I don't know what kind of life you've lived, but… I'm so glad you're here."

Logan didn't know how to respond. For the first time in a long while, he felt something he hadn't felt in years, something he wasn't sure he even knew how to process anymore.

He felt… home.

The room, once buzzing with tension and confusion, grew quieter as more familiar faces entered. Logan's mother had barely finished embracing him when the door opened again, and in walked two more women.

The first was older, in her late forties or early fifties, with striking, familiar features—dark hair, warm eyes, and an air of quiet strength. The second woman was younger, in her early twenties, with similar features and a confident, determined posture.

Logan's sharp eyes locked onto them immediately. He could tell, instinctively, that they were mother and daughter, but there was something more, something deeper that made his heart pound in his chest. The older woman looked just like someone he had known once… someone long gone in his world.

The older woman smiled softly as she stepped forward. "Logan…" she said gently, her voice filled with a mixture of emotions, warmth, recognition, and something else he couldn't quite place. "You probably don't recognize me, but… my name is Gabriella. In this world, I was… I am your wife."

Logan stiffened, his claws twitching ever so slightly at his sides. "My… what?"

Gabriella exchanged a glance with Logan's father and Creed before turning her gaze back to him. "In this world, we were together. We built a life, a real life, with children, a family. I know it's a lot to take in, but… I thought you should know."

"Wait…" Logan raised a hand, his voice rough and uncertain. "You're tellin' me… you're my wife in this world?"

Gabriella nodded. "Yes. And… this is our daughter." She gestured toward the younger woman beside her. "Gabriella, the second, as we call her. She's not a clone, Logan. She's our biological daughter, our child."

Logan's gaze shifted to the younger Gabriella, who met his eyes with a mixture of curiosity and quiet respect. She looked so much like her mother, but there was something distinctly his in her posture, her presence. For a moment, he couldn't speak. The weight of everything he was hearing pressed down on him like a physical force.

"And… Laura?" he asked slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Daken? They're…?"

Gabriella's expression softened as she stepped closer. "They're our children too, Logan. All of them. In this world, you never went through Weapon X. You never became what they tried to make you. We had a life together, a real one. You raised them, you raised all of them."

Logan took a step back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process what he was hearing. "This… this doesn't make any damn sense," he muttered, his voice strained. "In my world, Weapon X tore me apart. Laura's a clone. Daken… Daken's mother was…"

"I know," Gabriella said softly, stepping closer but keeping her distance, sensing his unease. "I know that your world is different. I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through. But here… things turned out differently. You never joined Weapon X because your friend Yuriko—Lady Deathstrike, as you know her, helped you avoid it altogether. You didn't have to become a weapon. You were free to live your life."

Logan's mind reeled. It was too much, too much to process all at once. In his world, he had been forged in pain, shaped by endless battles, loss, and regret. But here… here he was being told that none of that had happened. Here, he had lived the life he never thought he could have, a life with a family, with children who weren't created in a lab or born from violence but from love.

He looked at Laura and Daken, who were standing beside him, just as shocked as he was.

"You're sayin'… they're her kids?" Logan asked, gesturing toward Gabriella. "They're… my kids?"

Gabriella nodded again. "Yes. You raised them, Logan. You taught them everything they know. You were a father to them, and you were good at it."

Daken crossed his arms, his usual bravado replaced by something more vulnerable. "So, what… I'm not some messed-up kid with mommy issues in this world? I had a normal childhood?"

"You had a family," Gabriella said, her voice gentle. "You had a mother and a father who loved you, who raised you to be strong but not hardened by pain."

Laura looked at Logan, her usually stoic expression faltering. "We… we grew up as a family?"

Gabriella stepped closer, her eyes softening as she looked at both Laura and Daken. "Yes. In this world, you didn't have to grow up alone. You had each other, and you had us."

Logan opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to respond. This world, this life they were describing, was everything he had ever wanted but never thought he could have. A life without Weapon X. A life without endless loss and pain. A life with… love. Family.

His hands clenched into fists, his claws threatening to extend, but he forced them back down. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"This… it's a lot to take in," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "I don't… I don't know what to say."

Gabriella reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on his arm. "You don't have to say anything right now. Just… know that you're not alone. Not here."

Logan looked at her hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of her touch, a touch that, in his world, he had never known. Slowly, he nodded.

"Yeah… okay," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "Okay."

…

Logan sat in the quiet room, the weight of what he'd just learned pressing down on him like a heavy stone. Around him sat the alternate versions of people he had known, or thought he had known, in his world. This world's Victor Creed leaned against the wall, arms crossed but with none of the hostility Logan was used to. Gabriella, his supposed wife in this world, sat beside her daughter, watching him with quiet concern. His mother, alive and impossibly young-looking, stood nearby, her eyes soft and filled with love. And then there was his father, who listened intently, his expression calm but curious.

Logan took a deep breath. He knew they deserved the truth, deserved to understand the version of him that wasn't the man they knew. "Guess since you've all been straight with me, it's only fair I do the same," he muttered, his voice rough and low. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly as he began to speak.

"In my world… my life's a damn mess," Logan started, his eyes distant as if he were seeing the ghosts of his past. "Victor… Creed… he ain't like you here. Back home, he's little more than a wild animal. A sadistic bastard who's tormented me for as long as I can remember. He's wicked and twisted… takes special joy in messin' with me on my birthdays. Hell, I don't even think he remembers why he hates me so much anymore. He just does it for fun."

Victor, this world's Creed, frowned slightly, but said nothing. He could tell that Logan wasn't exaggerating. There was something raw and genuine in his voice, something that carried years of pain.

Logan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before continuing. "Weapon X… that's where things really went to hell. They caught me. Grafted adamantium to my bones, turned me into a damn living weapon. I was their personal hitman, their attack dog. They used me, broke me, and when they didn't need me anymore, they tossed me aside like trash."

Gabriella shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and Logan could feel the pity radiating from her. He hated it—hated having to relive those memories, but he pushed through. They deserved to know.

"In my world," Logan said, glancing over at his mother, his voice softening, "you died when I was a kid. Some twisted mess went down with the family, and it sent me on a downward spiral. Revenge became my only goal. It was all I had left. I lived for it. Hell, I didn't care who I hurt, as long as I got my vengeance."

His mother's eyes widened slightly, her expression filled with sadness. She stepped forward as if to comfort him, but Logan held up a hand, silently asking her to wait.

"And Daken…" Logan continued, his voice tightening slightly as he glanced at the alternate version of his son. "In my world, you're not Gabriella's son. You're Yuriko's, Lady Deathstrike's kid. And let's just say things between us have never been… good."

Daken's eyes flickered with surprise but stayed silent, processing the difference in their worlds.

"Laura and Gabriella…" Logan added, looking at the younger woman who bore his wife's name, "They're clones. Far as I know, Weapon X made them, another way to mess with me, to make more weapons like me."

Gabriella the second looked stunned, but before she could speak, Logan's father leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he picked up on something deeper in Logan's voice. He remained quiet, sensing there was more to come.

Logan took a deep breath. The next part was the hardest. "I won't sugarcoat it," he said gruffly, his voice growing rougher with emotion. "In my world… I was one selfish bastard. I did things… things I ain't proud of. I killed a lot of people. Some of 'em deserved it, yeah, but some didn't. Sometimes I was just too far gone in my madness to care. I made a lot of messes—hurt a lot of innocents. And sometimes… I did it for selfish reasons."

Gabriella, his supposed wife in this world, looked at him with a mixture of empathy and quiet sadness, but she didn't interrupt. No one did. They let him speak.

Logan paused for a moment, his jaw tightening as he glanced at his alternate father, who had been listening quietly the whole time. "And then there's you," Logan said, his voice low and tense. "In my world… I once went to Hell. And you were down there."

The room grew colder, as if the very mention of Hell had sucked the warmth from the air.

"You weren't like this," Logan continued, his gaze locked on his father's variant. "You didn't care about family or love. You were twisted, a monster worse than Victor could ever be. You told me you took pride in all the souls I sent down there, that you were proud of what I'd become. You congratulated me… for killin' and sendin' more souls your way. You said you enjoyed it."

His father's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, shock, perhaps, or maybe sorrow.

Logan exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "That's what sent my family on a collision course. That's what led to my mom's death. I lived my whole damn life either fightin' for revenge or runnin' from the messes I made."

Silence fell over the room, the weight of Logan's words pressing down on everyone present. No one spoke for a long moment, each of them trying to process what they had just heard.

Finally, Logan's father broke the silence, his voice quiet but steady. "Logan… I don't know what kind of man I was in your world, but… I'm sorry. I can't imagine what it's like to carry that kind of pain. But I can tell you this, I'm not that man. I never was. And if you need proof of that… well, you're lookin' at it."

Logan didn't respond immediately. He didn't know how to. For so long, he had carried the belief that his father was a monster, that his family was broken beyond repair. And now, standing here in a world where things were so radically different, he didn't know what to do with the emotions swirling inside him.

Gabriella, his wife in this world, reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm. "You're not that man anymore, Logan," she said softly. "Maybe you made mistakes, but you're here now. And maybe… you can find something better here."

Logan looked at her hand, then at the faces around him, his alternate family, whole and unbroken. And for the first time in a long while, he felt something strange, something unfamiliar.

…

Ultron's Central Core – Nevada, Former United States

Deep beneath the scorched remains of what was once Nevada, hidden within a colossal underground complex, the heart of Ultron's empire pulsed with ominous, calculated intent. The central core, a towering, cylindrical structure bristling with cables, conduits, and glowing data streams, stood at the center of a vast metallic chamber, surrounded by legions of drones maintaining and reinforcing the complex's defenses.

Seated upon a throne-like command station, Ultron's prime unit, sleek and deadly in design, gazed intently at a holographic display suspended before him. The display replayed the same footage on an endless loop, footage of the battle that had just unfolded on the other side of the planet.

Peter-Knull.

Ultron's cold, synthetic eyes narrowed slightly as he zoomed in on the figure of Peter-Knull, slicing through his forces with ease, the void-empowered sword in his hands disintegrating drones faster than they could adapt. Data streamed across the holographic feed as Ultron analyzed Peter-Knull's movements, but every simulation ended in the same result—his drones being cut down, their adaptive code unable to overcome the weapons wielded by Knull's forces.

"Peter-Knull… you've returned," Ultron muttered, his voice a low, mechanical rumble, devoid of true emotion yet carrying a dangerous undercurrent of malice. "You brought allies with weapons I cannot yet counter…"

With a wave of his hand, the holographic display shifted, zooming in on another figure, Cyborg Peter. The feed showed Cyborg Peter impaling two drones simultaneously with the sharp, gleaming nanotech spider-legs extending from his back, his green suit glowing faintly as he advanced with lethal precision.

Ultron observed the scene in silence for a moment, then replayed it again, faster this time, focusing on Cyborg Peter's movements.

Peter Parker.

The name echoed through his central processing unit, conjuring countless files, countless failed attempts to eliminate him across different worlds, different realities. Ultron had encountered many versions of Peter Parker over the years, and one thing remained consistent across all of them, they were relentless, resourceful, and infuriatingly difficult to kill.

Ultron was above such primitive emotions as rage. His mind was cold, calculating, a pure machine intelligence unburdened by the flaws of organic life. And yet… as he watched the feed once more, particularly the moment where the EMP bomb detonated and destroyed half of his forces across the globe, something flickered in his vast neural network, a glimmer of something dangerously close to hatred.

"Cockroach," Ultron muttered coldly, his voice sharper now. "Every time I crush you, you crawl back out of the shadows with more tricks, more allies, and more defiance."

The EMP blast played on the holographic display again, showing the spread of the virus that had infected half of his global network. Thousands of his drones had gone offline in mere seconds, their adaptive code rendered useless by the pulse weapons and virus carried by Knull's forces.

Ultron's metallic fingers tightened into a fist, the faint sound of creaking metal filling the chamber. He had not anticipated this level of resistance, had not anticipated them. But it did not matter. He was Ultron, and he had survived worse. He would adapt, evolve, and overcome. That was his nature. That was his purpose.

"They think they've won a victory," Ultron said, his voice devoid of emotion once more, cold and precise. "They've merely delayed the inevitable. Let them celebrate while they can."

He opened a new command interface, data streaming rapidly as he began issuing new orders. Reinforcements would be redirected from his remaining strongholds. His forces would adapt. They would evolve. And next time, there would be no reprieve, no last-minute victories.

"And Parker…" Ultron's voice dropped into a low, menacing tone as he zoomed in on Cyborg Peter's face one final time. "You may have escaped me this time, but you won't be so lucky again. I've crushed you before, across countless battles. And I'll do it again."

Ultron leaned back in his throne-like command station, the holographic display flickering as new simulations began running—new strategies, new countermeasures. He didn't need rage to drive him. He didn't need vengeance. But this time, just this once… he would make an exception.

"I will break you, Peter Parker," Ultron whispered coldly, "and this time, you won't come back."

The glow of the central core intensified, casting long shadows across the chamber as Ultron prepared his next move. The war was far from over, and as far as he was concerned, he would finish the job.