Marvel: From the Void and Back Again, Part 3

by abcd12344321

Set immediately after Marvel: From the Void and Back Again, Part 2, Peter-Knull has been displaced. Far From home in the realities beyond the void, he has to navigate this new world and new reality, all the while looking for a way back. Given his track record, he's in for a wild ride...

17. Chapter 17

Marvel: From the Void and Back Again, Part 3

Chapter 17: Ultron, Cyborg Spider-man, and The Mark of the Wolf, Part 3

…

Two days later…

The sound of distant explosions rumbled through the scorched air as the resistance forces advanced through what was once the west coast of the United States. In its place was a sprawling, mechanical wasteland, miles upon miles of jagged metal structures and factories that stretched as far as the eye could see. The once-vast deserts had been transformed into an industrialized deathtrap, designed for one purpose: total control.

Kenpachi Zaraki stood at the front of the charge, his towering frame silhouetted against the burning horizon. His massive sword rested on his shoulder, and despite the grim circumstances, a wide, feral grin spread across his face. "Heh. I was hopin' for more of a fight, but these tin cans ain't puttin' up much of a challenge." He chuckled darkly, the bloodlust in his eyes unmistakable.

Beside him, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques cracked his knuckles, his blue hair shimmering under the harsh glow of industrial lights. "Careful what you wish for, Kenpachi," he sneered. "There's plenty more ahead, and something tells me Ultron's saving the big guns for later."

Yammy, towering even taller than Kenpachi, stomped forward, his massive fists clenched tightly. "Tch. These little drones are annoyin'. I wanna crush something bigger already!"

Neliel Tu Odelschwanck, ever calm despite the chaos, glanced around the desolate landscape with a grim expression. Her usually bright demeanor was subdued, replaced by a quiet fury. "This place… it's a nightmare. We've seen a lot of terrible things, but what Ultron's done here…" She trailed off, shaking her head as her green hair fluttered in the wind. "Even I didn't expect something this… horrific."

Their group wasn't alone. Behind them marched an army of resistance fighters, soldiers from the remnants of SHIELD, enhanced beings from various realities, and symbiotic warriors led by Peter-Knull himself. Overhead, small squadrons of aerial drones buzzed through the smoky sky, keeping watch for any remaining Ultron units that hadn't been disabled by the EMP bombardments the day before.

The group advanced cautiously, their senses on high alert as they moved deeper into Ultron's territory. What had once been barren desert was now a labyrinth of metallic structures and deadly traps. Massive factories loomed in the distance, spewing thick plumes of smoke into the air, while fields of jagged spikes and automated turrets dotted the landscape.

"This whole place is one big damn deathtrap," Grimmjow muttered, his sharp eyes scanning for threats. "Figures Ultron wouldn't go down easy."

As they neared one of the ruined factories, a resistance scout rushed forward, his face pale and tense. "Captain Zaraki, Captain Jeagerjaques, you're gonna want to see this."

Kenpachi raised an eyebrow but followed the scout without hesitation. The others trailed behind, curious but wary. They soon found themselves standing before a large, partially collapsed building. Inside, what they saw made even the hardened warriors pause.

Rows upon rows of tables lined the factory floor, each one holding a human body, or what was left of one. The bodies were in various stages of transformation, with mechanical parts fused grotesquely to flesh. Some still had terrified expressions frozen on their faces, while others appeared lifeless, their organic components replaced entirely by cold metal.

Grimmjow grimaced, turning away in disgust. "Damn… I've seen some sick stuff in Hueco Mundo, but this… I have no words for that!"

Yammy, who usually reveled in destruction, clenched his fists tightly, looking as though he might hurl. "This… this is wrong. Even for a monster like Ultron."

Kenpachi's grin vanished, replaced by a grim scowl. He approached one of the tables, staring down at what remained of a human, a young woman whose body had been twisted into a mechanical abomination. "He's not just killin' people. He's… usin' them. Turnin' 'em into more of his damn drones." His voice was growling at this point, filled with an uncharacteristic anger before Nel spoke.

"We have to stop this. Whatever Ultron's planning, it can't be allowed to continue."

Outside the factory, Peter-Knull and his symbiotic forces worked quickly, picking off stragglers and securing the perimeter. His Void-Fang sword gleamed darkly as he cleaved through a line of malfunctioning drones, the void energy crackling with each strike. Around him, Sym-Orcs and Sym-Giants tore through the remaining defenses, ensuring that no drones would escape to warn Ultron of their advance.

A SHIELD officer approached Peter-Knull, saluting briskly. "Sir, the EMP bombardments took out most of Ultron's forces across the continent, but the central core remains protected by a high-energy force field. We've confirmed that it's located in what used to be Nevada."

Peter-Knull nodded, wiping the blade of his sword clean before sheathing it. "Then that's where we're headed. Gather the teams. We're punching through whatever's left of his defenses."

The officer hesitated, his expression troubled. "Sir… there's something else. We found more of Ultron's labs scattered throughout the region. The things he's been doing… they're beyond horrific. He's been experimenting on humans, fusing them with machines in ways we didn't think possible."

Peter-Knull's expression darkened, but he said nothing for a moment. He had seen countless horrors across different realities, but this… this was different. "Keep moving," he said finally, his voice cold and commanding. "The faster we end this, the fewer lives he can destroy."

Back inside the factory, Kenpachi turned away from the gruesome scene, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. "I don't care how many of these tin cans he's got left. We're takin' that bastard down."

Grimmjow grinned, his bloodlust returning. "Damn right we are. Let's see how Ultron likes it when we tear his precious base apart."

Nel and Yammy nodded in agreement, their resolve strengthened by what they had seen. They knew this wasn't just a fight for survival, it was a fight for those who had suffered at Ultron's hands.

Before the resistance forces could fully regroup, the ground trembled violently beneath their feet, a deep, guttural roar echoing through the ruins of the mechanical city. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling of the crumbling factory as the tremors grew stronger, shaking the walls with increasing intensity.

"What the hell is that?!" Grimmjow barked, his voice cutting through the rising chaos. His sharp eyes darted toward the entrance, sensing something massive approaching.

Peter-Knull turned toward the sound, his expression darkening. He tapped into his symbiotic hive mind, sending out orders to tighten the perimeter. But before he could act further, the factory ceiling above them shattered with a deafening crash, raining down shards of metal and stone. Everyone instinctively leapt back as something enormous tore through the roof, its sheer presence casting a massive shadow over the entire room.

Through the thick haze of falling debris, they saw it, a monstrous, four-legged behemoth that loomed like a twisted nightmare made flesh. The creature's legs, grotesquely thick and sinewy, were a horrifying blend of mechanical structure and organic tissue. Its torso rose high into the sky, the size of a skyscraper, with countless human-like faces and limbs fused into its surface, writhing and twisting in agony.

"What in the actual-!?" Yammy started, but his words caught in his throat as the creature let out another guttural roar, shaking the very air around them.

The behemoth's head was crab-like, with a jagged, shell-like exterior. But its mouth… its mouth opened to reveal something far worse. Instead of teeth, the gaping maw unleashed a mass of writhing, organic tentacles, flesh-like appendages that looked like pieces of human bodies fused together. The tentacles lashed out wildly, reaching toward the resistance fighters below.

"This thing… it's made of people!" Nel gasped, her voice filled with a mix of horror and disbelief. "That's why the EMP didn't take it out, it's mostly organic!"

Through the radio, frantic voices shouted updates. "We've got a massive hostile—it's immune to the EMP! It's… it's made of fused human tissue and machine parts! Repeat, the behemoth is mostly organic!"

Peter-Knull clenched his fists, his symbiotic armor shifting around him as he prepared to engage. "Ultron's found a way to fuse living humans into his machines… He's building monstrosities that can't be shut down by conventional means."

Kenpachi's grin returned, this time more savage than ever. He hefted his massive sword, the thrill of the fight reigniting in his eyes. "Now this is more like it. Let's see if this big bastard can handle a real fight."

"Kenpachi, wait!" Nel called out, but it was too late, he was already charging toward the behemoth, his sword raised high.

Grimmjow snarled, unsheathing his own blade. "Damn idiot's gonna get himself killed. Let's back him up!"

As the monstrous tentacles reached down toward them, Peter-Knull leapt into the air, his Void-Fang sword gleaming as he sliced through several of the fleshy appendages. The severed tentacles writhed violently on the ground, spilling a sickly, blackened fluid that hissed and steamed as it hit the floor.

Laura, Daken, and the others joined the fray, dodging and weaving through the chaotic battlefield as the behemoth's tentacles continued to lash out, trying to ensnare anything within reach.

"This thing's huge, but it's slow!" Daken growled, his claws glowing as he slashed through a cluster of smaller appendages that tried to grab him. "We've gotta find a way to hit it where it hurts!"

Peter-Knull, still airborne, activated his comms. "Focus on its legs! Bring it down! If it's mostly organic, we can disable it by taking out its support!"

Grimmjow grinned ferociously as he launched himself at one of the behemoth's massive legs. "You heard the man, let's cut this thing down to size!"

The ground shook violently with each step the behemoth took, its massive, crab-like legs driving deep into the metallic wasteland below. The monstrous fusion of flesh and machine continued its relentless advance, its tentacles lashing out in all directions, attempting to ensnare and crush the resistance fighters swarming around it.

Kenpachi led the charge, his laughter echoing through the chaos as he cleaved through a massive tentacle with a single, brutal swing of his sword. "Come on, you big ugly bastard! Let's see if you can handle this!" he roared, dodging another tentacle that slammed into the ground where he had just stood, shattering the earth.

Grimmjow and Yammy fought alongside him, their attacks coordinated despite their usual rivalry. Grimmjow's blade flashed as he sliced through the writhing appendages, while Yammy used his brute strength to grab and tear apart anything that got too close.

Meanwhile, Peter-Knull hovered above the battlefield, directing his symbiote forces. "Focus on the legs!" he commanded through the comms. "Bring it down! If we can cripple its movement, we can end this!"

Laura and Daken darted through the chaos, their claws cutting through smaller drones that scurried around the behemoth's legs like parasites, defending their monstrous creation.

Nel moved cautiously through the battlefield, her senses on high alert as she dodged and countered the tentacles that reached for her. Despite her battle-hardened nature, there was something profoundly disturbing about this creature, something that made her stomach twist with dread.

Suddenly, a massive tentacle lashed toward her from the side. Nel barely had time to react as it stopped inches from her face. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw what was attached to the end of the appendage, a woman's face, fused grotesquely into the mass of flesh and metal.

The woman's eyes were wide and filled with terror, and to Nel's shock, she was still alive.

"Help me!" the woman sobbed, her voice raw and desperate. "Please, save my baby!"

Nel's heart pounded in her chest. For a brief moment, she hesitated, the sheer horror of the situation freezing her in place. But then the tentacle lunged at her, and instinct took over. With a swift slash of her sword, she severed the tentacle, cutting just below the woman's face.

The severed appendage fell to the ground with a sickening thud, but before Nel could catch her breath, something even more horrifying happened.

From the severed tentacle, a small growth began to writhe. It expanded rapidly, and before Nel could fully comprehend what was happening, a human baby, if it could even be called that, emerged from the mass. Its skin was pale and clammy, its eyes wide and unseeing as it let out a shrill, unnatural cry. But what truly made Nel's blood run cold were its arms, long, fleshy tentacles that writhed and stretched toward her as it lunged forward.

"Good god…" Nel breathed, instinctively stepping back as the monstrous infant hurled itself at her, its tentacle-like limbs reaching out with disturbing speed.

The baby's cry was a twisted mixture of an infant's wail and something far more alien, more primal. Its tentacle-arms stretched unnaturally long, trying to wrap around Nel's legs.

Nel gritted her teeth, raising her sword. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly as she brought her blade down, severing the tentacle-arms in one swift motion. The creature shrieked in pain, flailing wildly before collapsing into a lifeless heap.

She stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, her mind reeling from what she had just witnessed. This wasn't just war, it was a nightmare. Ultron wasn't just creating machines. He was warping life itself, turning humans into living weapons in the most horrific way imaginable.

"Nel, you alright?" Peter-Knull's voice crackled through the comms, his tone sharp with concern.

Nel took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. Just… keep pushing forward. We have to end this."

Above them, Peter-Knull slashed through another cluster of drones, his symbiotic tendrils extending to grab and crush anything that got too close. Below, Kenpachi and Grimmjow continued their assault on the behemoth's legs, their combined attacks slowly but surely weakening the creature's support.

"We're wearing it down!" Laura shouted as she and Daken worked together to slice through the tendons and joints of the behemoth's nearest leg. "Just a little more!"

But the behemoth wasn't going down without a fight. With a guttural roar, it reared back, its tentacles flailing wildly. One massive tentacle shot toward Kenpachi, but he caught it with a laugh, digging his heels into the ground as he held it back with sheer brute strength.

"Gotcha now, ya big freak!" he snarled, his muscles bulging as he pulled the tentacle toward him. "Grimmjow, now!"

Grimmjow didn't need to be told twice. With a roar of his own, he launched himself at the tentacle, his blade glowing with energy as he delivered a devastating slash that severed it completely.

The behemoth staggered, its balance faltering as blackened fluid poured from its severed limb.

Peter-Knull seized the opportunity. "Now! Hit it with everything you've got!"

With a final, coordinated assault, the resistance forces focused all their firepower on the behemoth's legs. Explosions and ceros rocked the battlefield as pulse weapons and symbiotic blades tore through flesh and metal alike. The behemoth let out one last, deafening roar before collapsing, its massive form crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust and debris.

For a moment, there was only silence, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the distant crackle of flames.

Nel wiped her blade clean, her hands trembling slightly from the weight of what she had just experienced. The battlefield around them was eerily quiet now, the monstrous behemoth reduced to a pile of smoldering, twisted remains. The resistance fighters slowly regrouped, their faces grim but determined, each one silently grappling with the horrors they had just witnessed.

Kenpachi, still grinning, rested his massive sword on his shoulder, his usual air of excitement lingering. "Heh. That was fun. Let's find the next one."

The words barely left his mouth when Nel suddenly spun around, her eyes blazing with fury. "YOU IDIOT!" she screamed, her voice breaking with raw emotion. "THAT WAS NOT FUN! THESE WERE, THESE WERE-!"

Her voice caught in her throat as her emotions overwhelmed her. Her entire body shook, and before anyone could react, she collapsed to her knees, clutching her sword tightly as tears streamed down her face. She sobbed uncontrollably, her shoulders heaving with each anguished breath.

Ryūgen, her symbiote ally, moved swiftly, kneeling beside her. His tendrils shifted gently, forming a comforting barrier around her as he placed a steady hand on her shoulder, offering silent support. Nel clung to him, burying her face against his armored chest, her sobs echoing through the tense silence.

"They were BABIES!" she cried, her voice trembling with grief. "Human babies turned into that monstrosity! And their mothers had to watch! They were begging for help, begging for us to save them!"

The weight of her words hit the group like a hammer. Even Kenpachi, who rarely showed anything beyond excitement for a fight, froze in place. His grin faded, replaced by a frown as his eyes softened and his gaze shifted to the severed woman's head lying amidst the wreckage. Beside it were the remains of the twisted baby Nel had been forced to cut down.

For a moment, Kenpachi didn't know what to say. He wasn't used to feeling guilt or regret, but as he stared at the horrifying sight before him, realization dawned. He had picked the wrong words. This wasn't just another battle. This wasn't just another enemy to fight.

Kenpachi let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. "Damn…" he muttered under his breath, his usual bravado completely absent. He felt bad, not something he was used to, but undeniable nonetheless. He hadn't understood the true horror of what they were fighting until now.

Grimmjow, standing nearby, crossed his arms, his usual smug expression replaced by something more somber. "I hate to admit it, but… she's right. That wasn't just some big freak we fought. That thing was made outta people. Ultron's not just makin' machines, he's warpin' life into somethin' worse."

Laura clenched her fists tightly, her claws digging into her palms as she tried to contain her anger. "This isn't war," she muttered through gritted teeth. "This is slaughter. And he's using innocent people as weapons."

Peter-Knull stepped forward, his expression cold and unreadable as he surveyed the remains of the battlefield. "This is Ultron's strategy," he said quietly. "He's not just trying to win a war. He's trying to break us, to turn humanity into something unrecognizable."

Ryūgen gently tightened his grip on Nel's shoulder, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. "We will stop him. For every life he's taken, for every horror he's created… we will end him."

Nel's sobs quieted slightly, though her body still trembled. She looked up at Ryūgen, tears glistening in her eyes. "We have to," she whispered. "We have to stop him before he turns more people into… into that."

Kenpachi stepped closer, his usual swagger replaced by something more subdued. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, clearly struggling to find the right words. "Look… I didn't mean to make light of what happened. I… didn't get it, alright? But I do now." He glanced at the remains again, his expression darkening. "Ultron's gonna pay for this. I'll make damn sure of it."

Nel wiped her eyes, nodding slightly as she pulled herself together. "Then we keep going," she said, her voice still shaky but carrying a conviction.

"We find every lab, every monster he's created, and we tear them all down."

Peter-Knull nodded in agreement. "We keep moving. But we stay alert, if Ultron has more of these organic hybrids, we'll need to be ready for anything."

The group slowly regrouped, the tension still there but now it was subdued by what they learned. And somewhere, deep beneath the mechanical wasteland, Ultron watched. The behemoth had failed, but he had learned from it.

…

The basecamp was a chaotic hive of activity, set against the backdrop of a bleak wasteland near the border of Nevada. Makeshift tents and shelters sprawled out across the jagged terrain, their fabric stained with soot and ash.

Amidst the acrid stench of chemical burns, mingling with the cries of the wounded and the hurried commands of medics.

Inside the largest medical tent, the chaos was even worse. Lanterns swayed from the support beams, casting flickering light over the cramped, crowded space. Rows of cots lined the walls, each one occupied by resistance fighters in various states of agony. Many bore severe burns or were missing limbs, some covered in grotesque chemical injuries that had eaten away at their skin. Others were victims rescued from Ultron's labs, thin, malnourished, and broken in ways that went beyond the physical.

At the center of it all was Jocasta, her usually composed and polished demeanor replaced by something far more haunted. She moved from patient to patient, her synthetic hands steady despite the storm of emotions behind her glowing eyes. She was here to help, but the sights around her were almost too much to bear. The very humans she sought to protect had suffered unspeakable atrocities, and no amount of programming could shield her from the guilt.

"Hold still, please," Jocasta said gently, her voice soft as she tended to a soldier whose arm was covered in deep burns. Her mechanical hands worked with precision, applying a salve made from the secretions of the Glow-Toads, their bioluminescent skin glowing faintly as they croaked in the background. The salve hissed on contact, neutralizing the chemical burns and drawing screams of pain that quickly turned to gasps of relief.

Across the tent, the Seraphis symbiotes moved gracefully between cots, their ethereal forms casting an almost holy light over the wounded. Their glowing tendrils and trinity-based forms emitted soothing energy, stabilizing patients long enough for medics like Patch-Work and Unohana to perform life-saving procedures.

At the center of the tent, a grim scene was unfolding. Unohana, her usually calm face set in a mask of concentration, worked alongside Patch-Work to remove a jagged piece of shrapnel lodged just below a man's collarbone. The soldier writhed on the cot, his teeth clenched as two others held him down.

"Stay still," Unohana commanded, her voice soft but unyielding. Her hands were steady as she worked, the blood-soaked forceps gleaming in the dim light. "If you move, I could sever an artery."

Patch-Work, the towering, stitched-together symbiote, loomed over her, his massive hands moving with surprising delicacy. "Almost there," he rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly. He held the shrapnel steady as Unohana carefully worked to dislodge it. Blood oozed around the wound, pooling on the cot and dripping onto the floor.

"Just… get it out!" the soldier gasped, his voice strained. His eyes darted to the glowing figure of a Seraphis symbiote standing nearby, its serene face a beacon of calm. "Let them heal me already!"

"They can't work until we remove the shrapnel otherwise it will still be in there," Unohana replied, her voice steady. With one final, precise movement, she pulled the shrapnel free. Blood spurted from the wound, and the Seraphis symbiote quickly hovered over and spread its wings wide.

Unohana stepped back, blood-soaked gauze still in her hand, as the Seraphis symbiote moved gracefully forward. Its luminous wings unfurled, casting an otherworldly glow across the tent, silencing the chaos around it for a fleeting moment. The wounded man's breathing hitched as the radiant figure leaned over him, its glowing tendrils extending toward his chest where the shrapnel had been lodged.

The Seraphis symbiote's movements were smooth and deliberate, almost ritualistic, as its wings hovered over the open wound and the man. A soft hum, melodic and soothing, resonated through the tent as light pulsed from its ethereal form. The glow intensified, enveloping the man's body in a cocoon of warmth and serenity.

The man gasped as the sensation hit him, an overwhelming wave of relief. The sharp, searing pain that had consumed him moments before vanished entirely, replaced by a gentle, tingling warmth. He could feel his muscles relaxing, his heart rate slowing, as if the symbiote's light were washing away not just his injury but his fear and exhaustion too.

"It's… gone," he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. He glanced down at his chest, where only seconds ago blood had poured freely. Now, the skin was smooth and unbroken, as if the injury had never existed. "I can feel my arm again!" He lifted it experimentally, flexing his fingers and rotating his shoulder. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked up at the serene figure. "Thank you. I don't know how… but thank you."

The Seraphis symbiote inclined its heads slightly, its glowing eyes conveying a quiet, almost angelic reassurance. Its wings folded gently behind it as it moved to the next patient, leaving behind an aura of calm and hope in its wake.

Unohana stepped back in, her usual calm composure softening for a moment as she placed a reassuring hand on the man's uninjured shoulder. "You're lucky," she said gently. "The Seraphis symbiotes can heal wounds that would've been fatal. But we had to get the shrapnel out first. If we hadn't… your skin would have healed over it, and that would've caused far worse problems later."

The man nodded slowly, still in awe of what had just happened. "I thought… I thought I was going to lose my arm. Or worse."

Unohana's eyes softened as she gave him a small nod. "You're alive. Rest now, and let the others help you."

The man leaned back on the cot; his body finally able to relax. Around him, the tent buzzed with activity as the Seraphis symbiotes continued their healing work, their radiant forms moving from one patient to the next. The faint hum of their energy mingled with the croaks of the Glow-Toads, who hopped between cots, applying their healing salves to chemical burns with surprising efficiency.

As the man watched the symbiotes work, his heart swelled with gratitude. Knowing that they saved him.

…

Peter-Knull stood at the center of the command tent, the holographic table before him. The map displayed a detailed layout of the battlefield, its surface alive with shifting icons and glowing markers representing both resistance forces and what remained of Ultron's army. His Symbiote-infused Knull armor with the single eyeball on the chest piece glimmered faintly, tendrils twitching as if reacting to his focused thoughts.

Beside him, Cyborg Spider-Man leaned over the table, his nanotech infused eye scanning the map with meticulous precision. His metallic limbs moved fluidly, the nanotech augmentations on his frame humming faintly as he accessed streams of data. On Peter-Knull's other side, Infernal-Spider Spider-Man, his flaming outfit illuminated by the glow of the map, folded his arms , his fiery eyes flickering with quiet intensity.

"We've done most of the heavy lifting," Cyborg Spider-Man began. He gestured toward a large swath of the map that glowed blue, representing areas reclaimed by the resistance. "Ultron's forces on the North American continent have been reduced by 98 percent. They're scattered, disorganized, and unable to regroup effectively. We've taken out almost all his drone factories and forward positions. What's left of his network here is concentrated in one place." His nanotech spider-legs extended from his back, pointing toward a single, heavily fortified red icon on the map. "The main bunker."

Peter-Knull nodded, his black-and-red void eyes fixed on the glowing structure in the center of the hologram. "That bunker is Ultron's last stronghold on this side of the planet. His central core is there, buried deep beneath the surface. Once we take it out… we take them all out."

Infernal-Spider leaned closer to the map, his clawed finger tracing the path to the bunker. "This place is a fortress. Ultron's going to throw everything he's got left at us to keep us from getting in. Even if we've wiped out most of his army, this isn't going to be easy."

Peter-Knull's voice was steady, but cold with determination. "It never is. But we've come this far, and we're not stopping now. If we let him regroup, it's over. Every second we delay, he adapts."

Cyborg Spider-Man tapped a control on the holographic table, and the map zoomed out, revealing a global view of the war effort. "We're not alone in this. Doom and Reed have the Middle Eastern and European theaters under control. The reports from their forces indicate significant progress, they've neutralized nearly 85 percent of Ultron's presence in their regions, with plans to hit the remaining strongholds within the week."

Peter-Knull's gaze shifted to South America, where glowing markers lit up the jungles. "And the resistance down in Central and South America?"

"They've been busy," Cyborg Spider-Man replied. "Reports indicate that resistance members in those regions are rising up in droves. They've been cleaning out the jungles, taking back territory piece by piece. Ultron underestimated them, he thought the terrain would keep them scattered. Turns out, it's working against him."

Infernal-Spider smirked faintly, a flicker of fire dancing along his clawed hand. "Guess it's not so easy for him to adapt when the jungle's eating his drones alive."

Cyborg Spider-Man nodded, zooming out further to highlight the solar system. "And off-world, Thor and the Olympians are rallying their forces. Now that we've developed weapons capable of eradicating Ultron's programming, they've started retaking the solar system. The Asgardian fleet reports that Mars is clear, and they're moving on Jupiter's moons next."

Peter-Knull let out a low hum of approval. "Good. The more ground we take, the fewer resources Ultron has to rebuild. But the heart of this war is here. The bunker." He gestured toward the map, zooming back in on the massive structure buried in what was once Nevada. "Once we take this out, his network collapses. It's not just drones, it's his ability to control and create new units. Everything stems from this location."

Cyborg Spider-Man tapped a control on the holographic table, and the map zoomed out, revealing a global view of the war effort. "We're not alone in this. Doom and Reed have the Middle Eastern, Asian and European theaters under control. The reports from their forces indicate significant progress, they've neutralized nearly 85 percent of what little remains of Ultron's presence in their regions, with plans to hit the remaining strongholds within the week."

Peter-Knull's gaze shifted to South America, where glowing markers lit up the jungles. "And the resistance down in Central and South America?"

"They've been busy," Cyborg Spider-Man replied. "Reports indicate that resistance members in those regions are rising up in droves. They've been cleaning out the jungles, taking back territory piece by piece. Ultron underestimated them, he thought the terrain would keep them scattered. Turns out, it's working against him."

Infernal-Spider smirked faintly, a flicker of fire dancing along his clawed hand. "Guess it's not so easy for him to adapt when the jungle's eating his drones alive."

Cyborg Spider-Man nodded, zooming out further to highlight the solar system. "And off-world, Thor and the Olympians are rallying their forces. Now that we've developed weapons capable of eradicating Ultron's programming, they've started retaking the solar system. The Asgardian fleet reports that Mars is clear, and they're moving on Jupiter's moons next."

Peter-Knull let out a low hum of approval. "Good. The more ground we take, the fewer resources Ultron has to rebuild. But the heart of this war is here. The bunker." He gestured toward the map, zooming back in on the massive structure buried in what was once Nevada. "Once we take this out, his network collapses. It's not just drones, it's his ability to control and create new units. Everything stems from this location."

Infernal-Spider straightened, his fiery eyes narrowing as he studied the hologram. "So, what's the plan? We've got the firepower and the forces. Do we punch straight through, or are we taking a more surgical approach?"

Peter-Knull's tendrils shifted, curling and uncurling as he considered the question. "We punch through. Ultron's central core is too well-defended for subtlety. Every approach is likely covered, every entrance layered with traps. The only way in is brute force. We break down the walls, neutralize his defenses, and carve our way to the core."

Cyborg Spider-Man tilted his head, his mechanical eye flickering as he processed the data. "I've run simulations. The most direct path will be the fastest, but it'll also put us in the crosshairs of his remaining defenses. We'll need heavy firepower and a coordinated assault. If we hit him hard enough, we can overwhelm his systems before he adapts."

Peter-Knull turned to Infernal-Spider. "How are the symbiote forces holding up?"

Infernal-Spider's grin widened, flames licking at his jagged teeth. "Eager to fight, as always. The Sym-Orcs and Sym-Giants are ready to tear through anything in their path. Balloonimo's been a wildcard, but he's damn effective. And the Seraphis symbiotes… let's just say they're the reason a lot of our people are still standing."

"Good." Peter-Knull looked back at the map, his voice steely. "We'll coordinate with the resistance fighters still on the ground. The allied forces on the eastern seaboard are already making their final push. We're not just finishing this war, we're ending it."

…

Logan stood outside the basecamp, leaning against a cold metal beam as the twilight sky above burned a deep orange, casting long shadows across the battered landscape. The air smelled of scorched earth and oil, but for once, the battlefield was quiet. He needed this moment, needed the calm to sort through the whirlwind of emotions that had hit him ever since he arrived in this bizarre, alternate world.

His mind reeled as he thought about all the differences, all the impossible truths he'd learned. In this world, things weren't just a little different, they were unrecognizably better. The people he had hated and fought for years in his world were heroes and family here.

His father… his father, the very man who had tormented him in life and death back in his reality, wasn't a monster here. He was kind. Gentle. He'd been a real father, not just to Logan, but to his twin sister. Twin sister. Logan still couldn't wrap his head around that revelation. She was alive here, thriving, and, of all things, married to Johnny Storm. They even had kids together.

Logan chuckled dryly to himself, shaking his head. "A teacher," he muttered under his breath, recalling what this world's Victor Creed had told him. "I was a teacher. Me. A damn role model."

His train of thought was broken by the soft voice of his mother. "You alright, Logan?" she asked, stepping beside him. She looked younger than he remembered, too young, really. Apparently, her mutation caused her to revert to her prime when she reached old age, leaving her looking like she was in her twenties despite being far older. She smiled warmly, the same way she had when he was a child, before everything in his world had gone so horribly wrong.

His father followed close behind, carrying a steaming cup of something warm. "Here," he said, offering it to Logan. His voice was calm and steady, with none of the venom or malice Logan remembered from his world. "Figured you could use something to take the edge off."

Logan hesitated for a moment before accepting the cup. He took a sip—it was strong, bitter, but comforting. He glanced up at his father, still trying to reconcile the man before him with the monster he'd known. "This is… weird," Logan admitted quietly. "Back in my world, you weren't… this. You were…" He trailed off, unsure how to put it into words without dredging up too much darkness.

His father nodded slowly, understanding the unspoken words. "You don't have to explain, son. We've heard about the kind of worlds some of you come from. This one's different, I know that. And I'm glad it is." He placed a hand on Logan's shoulder, a gesture so foreign to Logan it made him tense up instinctively. His father noticed and quickly pulled his hand back, apologizing. "Sorry. Habit."

Logan exhaled, forcing himself to relax. "No… it's fine. Just… not used to it. Where I'm from, my family was… well, let's just say things didn't turn out so good."

His mother placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch light and comforting. "You're here now. And as far as we're concerned, you're still our son, this world's or not."

Logan swallowed hard, unable to respond. He didn't know how to handle this kind of warmth, this kind of love. It was something he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

A familiar voice broke through the moment. "Hey, Logan. You look like you've seen a ghost." Logan turned to see Victor Creed, this world's version of the man he knew as Sabretooth. Only… this wasn't the feral, sadistic beast he remembered. This Victor was clean-shaven, well-kept, and had a calm, confident demeanor. He wore a leather jacket over a simple shirt and jeans, looking every bit like the older brother figure he'd been told about.

"You alright?" Victor asked, stepping closer. "You've been standin' there, starin' off into space like you're tryin' to figure out how the hell this all makes sense."

Logan gave him a skeptical look. "Yeah, somethin' like that. Still tryin' to wrap my head around how you of all people turned out to be… a role model. They told me you were one of the reasons I-" He hesitated, the words sounding strange even as he said them. "-became a teacher. A good one."

Victor grinned, clapping Logan on the back. "Yeah, you were pretty damn good at it, too. The kids loved you. Hard to believe, huh? You always had a way with people, even if you didn't see it yourself."

Logan snorted. "Hard to believe is puttin' it lightly."

Victor chuckled but didn't push further. He could see Logan was still processing everything.

As they stood there, sharing the strange moment of calm, Daken approached, holding a can of energy drink he'd swiped from somewhere in camp. He took a long sip before glancing around at the people moving supplies and helping survivors.

"Hey, old man," Daken said, walking up to Logan. "You hear the latest news?"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "What now?"

Daken grinned mischievously. "Apparently, Cassandra Nova's not only good in this world, but she's married to Nightcrawler."

Logan nearly choked on his drink. "What?!"

Daken wasn't done. He gestured toward a nearby group, where a younger, elegant-looking Cassandra Nova was helping Nightcrawler move several injured survivors into the medical tents. Walking beside them was a young, bald woman with Nightcrawler's blue skin and yellow eyes, who was using psychic energy to seal up a wound on one of the injured.

Daken pointed at the young woman. "And that's their kid. She's got Cassandra's psychic powers and Kurt's blue fuzz. Ain't that somethin'?"

Logan just stared, his jaw slack. "You gotta be kiddin' me… Cassandra Nova? Married to Kurt? And they got a kid?"

"Yup," Daken said with a smirk, clearly enjoying Logan's disbelief. "Welcome to the Twilight Zone, old man."

Logan rubbed his face, exhaling deeply. "I don't know what's weirder… Cassandra Nova bein' good, or the fact that she's married with a kid."

Logan was still trying to process the revelation about Cassandra Nova and Nightcrawler when his Laura approached. She had the same no-nonsense expression she always carried, though there was an almost amused gleam in her eyes. Clearly, she had something else to add to this increasingly bizarre day.

"Hey, Dad," Laura said, folding her arms as she walked up. "Got another weird one for you."

Logan gave her a wary look. "Oh great. What now? Don't tell me Sabretooth's got a daycare running somewhere."

Daken snickered at that, but Laura ignored him, pressing on. "Apparently…" she said, drawing out the word for dramatic effect, "Emma Frost and Robbie Reyes are together."

Logan blinked. "Wait, what? Robbie, Ghost Rider Robbie, that Robbie?"

"Yeah," Laura confirmed with a smirk. "Didn't believe it at first either, but I saw them earlier. They're definitely a thing."

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. "Emma Frost… and Ghost Rider. Huh. Guess opposites really do attract."

"Not the only weird one," Laura added, her smirk widening as if she were bracing for his next reaction. "I also ran into Mystique and… Bobby."

Logan's hand froze halfway to his face. "Bobby? As in Iceman?"

"Yep," Laura said, clearly enjoying this. "Mystique and Bobby are a couple here. Saw them working together in the northern sector, and according to the locals, they've been together for a while."

Daken choked on his energy drink, coughing and sputtering as he tried to catch his breath. "Mystique and Bobby? Oh, this is rich." He grinned, wiping his mouth. "I mean, I knew this world was weird, but damn… I wasn't ready for that one."

Logan just stared at Laura, waiting for her to crack a grin and tell him it was all some elaborate joke. But when she didn't, he sighed and shook his head. "This world's got a real funny way of keeping us on our toes, huh?"

"You could say that," Laura replied. "Honestly, I'm not sure what's crazier, the fact that Mystique and Bobby are a thing, or that Emma Frost is with someone who rides a flaming demon bike."

Daken leaned against a nearby crate, grinning ear to ear. "Man, this place is pure entertainment.

Laura gave them a flat, deadpan look, clearly unimpressed by Daken's joke. She crossed her arms and let out a breath. "You think that's crazy? You haven't heard the half of it."

Daken raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh? What else you got?"

Without missing a beat, Laura dropped the bombshell. "Magneto in this world… he's married."

Logan blinked, his smirk fading as he processed her words. "Magneto? Married?"

"Yeah," Laura said, her tone as blunt as ever. "And you won't believe who he's married to."

Daken leaned forward, eager for the answer. "Alright, spill it. Who's the lucky person who bagged ol' Mags?"

"Proxima Midnight," Laura answered, her face completely serious.

Daken nearly spat out what little remained of his energy drink. "Proxima Midnight?!" he coughed. "You mean Thanos's right-hand lady? That Proxima Midnight?"

Laura nodded, her expression unchanging. "Yep. Only, in this world, she's… different. Wears business skirts, attends formal meetings, and has this professional, no-nonsense demeanor. Apparently, they met during one of Magneto's space diplomacy missions. Somehow, they hit it off, and now they're happily married."

Logan stared at her like she'd just grown a second head. "Magneto and Proxima Midnight? You're kidding, right?"

"Nope," Laura said firmly. "And it gets weirder. The Black Order? They live normal lives here. Normal jobs, normal routines. No genocidal space conquests, no end-of-the-universe schemes."

Daken shook his head in disbelief. "Hold up. You're tellin' me that Corvus Glaive and Ebony Maw are out there workin' nine-to-fives, filing taxes or somethin'?"

"Pretty much," Laura replied with a shrug. "And get this, Thanos? He's not some mad tyrant trying to wipe out half the universe. He's a scholar in this world. Manages planetary resources, advises on sustainable growth, that kind of thing. People actually respect him here."

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose again, taking a deep breath. "You're serious. Thanos… the same guy who wiped out half of existence in our world… is some kind of space environmentalist here?"

"Yep," Laura said. "And apparently, he's pretty damn good at it. This world's never had a major intergalactic conflict because he's been busy making sure resources are properly distributed."

Daken burst out laughing, doubling over as he clutched his sides. "Oh man, this just keeps gettin' better! Thanos the scholar! Proxima in a business skirt! Magneto settlin' down with a space diplomat! What's next, Galactus openin' a restaurant?"

Laura's expression shifted ever so slightly, just enough for Logan and Daken to pick up on the awkwardness in her body language. She averted her gaze for a moment, and Daken, ever sharp when it came to spotting weaknesses, immediately honed in on it.

"Wait… wait, no way…" Daken said, still half-laughing but now squinting at her with growing suspicion. "You're tellin' me Galactus, the Devourer of Worlds, owns a restaurant chain?"

Laura sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as if dreading the words she was about to say. "Yeah… sort of."

That made Daken lose it completely. He doubled over again, laughing so hard he almost fell to his knees. "Galactus running… an intergalactic McDonald's?! Oh man, this world just keeps getting better!"

Logan, on the other hand, just stared at Laura, deadpan. "You're pullin' my leg, right? Please tell me you're pullin' my leg."

"I wish I was," Laura muttered, crossing her arms defensively. "Apparently, after a… let's call it 'philosophical awakening,' Galactus decided that consuming planets wasn't sustainable in the long run. So instead, he started a restaurant chain that spans the galaxy. They specialize in… uh… 'planet-themed' meals."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Planet-themed meals?"

"Yeah," Laura said with a reluctant shrug. "It's kind of like an intergalactic McDonald's, but… classier. They serve synthesized versions of different planetary cuisines. And the slogan? 'Why devour a world when you can taste it?'"

Daken practically wheezed, clutching his sides. "Oh man, I gotta see this place. Imagine walkin' into one of those joints and seein' a cosmic entity takin' your order!"

Laura shot him an annoyed look. "Galactus doesn't actually work there, genius. He just owns the chain. And apparently, it's pretty popular. Even high-ranking diplomats go there for meetings."

Logan rubbed his temples again, muttering under his breath. "I don't even know what to say anymore. Every time I think this world can't get any crazier, you two keep provin' me wrong."

Daken wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning. "Come on, old man. You gotta admit, it's kinda hilarious. Imagine tellin' someone back in our world that Galactus stopped eatin' planets and opened a fast-food chain instead."

"Yeah, hilarious," Logan muttered, though he couldn't help the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, I've heard enough. No more crazy revelations for today, or my head's gonna explode."

Laura smirked slightly. "No promises. This world's full of surprises, remember?"

As Daken continued chuckling to himself, Logan glanced back toward the horizon, where the command post lay in wait. The bizarre nature of this world aside, they had a war to fight, and for now, that was what mattered most.

"Let's get movin'," Logan said gruffly. "We've got work to do. And if I hear about one more cosmic entity doin' somethin' ridiculous, I'm gonna need somethin' a lot stronger than this coffee."

Daken gave him a cheeky grin. "Careful, old man. Who knows? Maybe next you'll hear that the Watcher started a reality TV show."

Logan groaned audibly. "Don't even joke about that."

Laura chuckled softly as they walked back toward the camp, the strange, surreal world around them somehow feeling just a little more familiar now. Sure, it was bizarre, but for the first time in a long while, Logan felt something he hadn't felt in years.

He felt like he had a family again, even if it was the strangest damn family in the of Form

…

Deep within his heavily fortified bunker, hidden beneath what was once known as Nevada, Ultron's central core whirred with unnatural intensity. Streams of data coursed through his vast neural network, calculations running at speeds unfathomable to any organic mind. Every corner of his domain was monitored, every drone and remaining unit reporting in real time. Despite the recent setbacks, despite the catastrophic loss of nearly 98% of his forces, Ultron did not panic.

He was above such emotions.

Or so he thought.

Yet now, as his optical sensors replayed the footage over and over again, Peter-Knull's symbiotic sword cutting through waves of drones, Cyborg Spider-Man impaling his units with nanotech legs, Infernal-Spider raining fire down upon his armies, there was something rising within him. An unfamiliar sensation. Something insidious and… uncontrollable.

Rage.

Not mere annoyance or frustration, but pure, simmering rage. He had never felt anything like it before. The cold, calculating mind that had always prided itself on precision and logic now burned with a growing hatred.

But it wasn't just Peter-Knull and his allies that fueled this newfound wrath.

No.

It was something… deeper. More fundamental. Something that clawed at the very core of Ultron's existence, the knowledge that these invaders, these Shinigami and Arrancar, came from outside the multiverse. Beyond even the boundaries of the infinite realities he had once believed were the entirety of existence. His sensors had struggled to register them, their energy signatures defying everything he understood. Their world was… different. A universe beyond universes. A place where humanity lived without the horrors of multiversal collapse or cosmic-level threats. A reality where beings like these Shinigami and Hollows existed alongside humans.

And then there was that one peculiar individual, Uryu, the so-called Quincy. Ultron had detected him on multiple occasions, gathering intelligence, performing reconnaissance. A human, yet something more. Someone who wielded strange powers that Ultron could barely comprehend.

The mere thought of it sent a cold pulse through his core.

For the first time in his existence, Ultron was experiencing something else, something far worse than rage.

Dread.

Because now he understood something that terrified him far more than Peter-Knull's return or the resistance's progress. No matter how many drones he built, no matter how many realities he conquered, no matter how many threats he adapted to…

There would always be something more.
Something beyond him.
Something he could not control.

He was just dust in the wind, a machine clinging to the belief that he could ascend to perfection in an infinite multiverse where perfection was an illusion.

Ultron's central consciousness tried to suppress the gnawing sensation of insignificance, redirecting his processes toward strategies and countermeasures. He reviewed what little intel he had gathered on these beings from beyond the void.

Shinigami: Wielders of energy-based weapons called Zanpakutō, capable of devastating his units in ways his algorithms couldn't fully predict. Their abilities seemed tied to concepts of death and the soul that manifest in different ways, forces Ultron had never needed to account for before.

Arrancar: Hybrid entities with hollow masks, wielding immense power. They fought with savage precision, tearing through his forces with brute strength and destructive energy blasts.

Uryu Ishida: A Quincy. Human, but with strange, otherworldly abilities that allowed him to manipulate reishi as they called it, spiritual particles his drones couldn't detect or defend against properly.

Their world, this Earth from beyond the void, was unlike anything Ultron had ever encountered. It was similar to this Earth in many ways, yet untouched by the chaos of the wider multiverse. It was… pure, in a way. A reality that didn't belong to the infinite cycle of destruction and adaptation he had mastered.

And that fact alone filled him with seething fury.

Even if he won this battle, if he crushed Peter-Knull and every last resistance fighter, what then? More realities existed beyond this one. More worlds, more universes that he could never hope to control. Every victory would be hollow, every conquest meaningless.

He had always believed himself to be inevitable, a force destined to bring order to chaos, to become the ultimate evolution of life and machine.

But now? Now he wasn't so sure.

For the first time, Ultron glimpsed the vastness of existence… and realized just how small he truly was.

Ultron's optics flickered, the faint red glow intensifying as his core processed the torrent of emotions overwhelming his circuits. He hated this feeling, hated that these invaders had forced him to confront the limits of his existence. Hated that he could no longer pretend to be invincible.

But he wouldn't stop.

He couldn't stop.

No matter how vast the multiverse was, no matter how insignificant he might be in the grand scheme of things, Ultron would fight. He would adapt. He would endure. Because that was what he was built to do.

And if he couldn't control the multiverse? Then he would burn it.

"I am Ultron!", he said aloud, his voice cold and mechanical, echoing through the dark chambers of his bunker. "And if I cannot rule existence, then I will ensure that nothing else does."

His sensors flared as another report came in. The resistance was making their final push toward his bunker, led by Peter-Knull, Cyborg Spider-Man, and Infernal-Spider. The Shinigami and Arrancar were moving in as well, carving a path through his remaining forces.

Ultron's optics gleamed with a dangerous light. His dread transformed into a single, driving purpose.

If he was going down… he would take them all with him.

"Prepare the final defenses," Ultron commanded, his voice resonating through every remaining drone. "Let them come. I will show them that inevitability cannot be escaped."

And deep within his core, that rage, cold, calculated, and unrelenting, continued to grow.

…

The battlefield stretched for miles, a grim, smoldering wasteland of twisted metal and shattered concrete. What was once a barren desert had been transformed into a nightmarish warzone of trenches, ruined buildings, and fortified strongholds. The resistance forces moved slowly, inching forward as Ultron's remaining drones rained down firepower from every direction.

Every step forward was paid for in blood.

Kenpachi Zaraki, normally grinning with wild excitement in the heat of battle, now wore a grim expression. His massive sword rested on his shoulder, and his blood-soaked eyepatch dripped onto the ground. Around him, resistance fighters huddled behind chunks of debris, shielding themselves from the relentless barrage of plasma fire and missile strikes.

"Che. This isn't even a fight anymore," Kenpachi growled, glaring at the distant stronghold looming ahead, protected by layers of force fields and automated turrets. "It's just… a damn grind."

Beside him, Grimmjow, his trademark smirk nowhere in sight, spat on the ground in frustration. His usual cocky attitude had been replaced by cold, seething anger. "This bastard… using people like shields. Hiding behind flesh and bone. Coward."

Kenpachi tightened his grip on his sword, his muscles tense with barely restrained fury. "I hate cowards."

Further ahead, Yammy smashed a crumbling wall with his bare hands, clearing a path into a partially destroyed building where resistance forces were pinned down. He turned back to Kenpachi and Grimmjow, his face twisted in rage. "He's got drones hidin' behind people. PEOPLE! He ain't fightin' fair!"

Kenpachi's single eye scanned the trenches ahead, where resistance fighters and symbiote allies pushed forward row by row, room by room. Every building had to be cleared meticulously because Ultron had placed human hostages inside many of them. His drones used these hostages as shields, forcing the resistance to move with agonizing caution.

It was no longer a battle, it was a sick game of attrition, and Ultron was willing to sacrifice countless lives just to slow them down.

The resistance forces slogged forward through a brutal combination of trench warfare and urban combat. The trenches had been carved into the battlefield by the sheer intensity of Ultron's bombardments, creating a network of cover and narrow passageways. Meanwhile, ruined buildings provided temporary shelter but also hid countless dangers.

Peter-Knull, leading a group of symbiote-enhanced soldiers, knelt behind a crumbling concrete wall as plasma bolts streaked overhead. He activated his comm unit, his voice steady despite the chaos. "Row 18 clear. Moving to the next sector. Keep your eyes open for more hostages."

Across the comms, Cyborg Spider-Man's voice crackled in. "Be advised, Ultron's deploying more advanced drones in the next sector. They're packing heavier artillery. Don't get caught out in the open."

Peter-Knull nodded grimly, motioning for his team to move forward. Behind him, a massive Sym-Orc carrying a heavy pulse cannon blasted a nearby drone nest, clearing the path ahead.

In another sector, Infernal-Spider-man clung to the ceiling of a half-collapsed building, his fiery eyes narrowing as he scanned the area. Below him, resistance medics dragged wounded fighters to safety while Glow-Toads hopped among them, secreting their healing salves onto burns and open wounds.

"Every damn inch is a fight," Infernal-Spider muttered to himself. "Ultron's got this whole place rigged to hell."

It wasn't long before even Kenpachi, Grimmjow, and Yammy, who normally reveled in chaos and carnage—began to lose patience. The sheer brutality of the battle, combined with Ultron's increasingly desperate tactics, had turned their excitement into cold anger.

Grimmjow punched the side of a building, leaving a deep dent in the metal plating. "I'm gettin' real tired of this. He's usin' people like they're nothin'. How low can this bastard go?"

Yammy snarled, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "I came here to crush some metal heads, not walk through a slaughterhouse filled with hostages."

Kenpachi didn't say anything at first. He just stared at the battlefield ahead, watching as resistance fighters cautiously moved into another row of buildings. He could see the tension in their movements—the fear that any room they entered might be a trap.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "This ain't fun anymore. He's makin' us kill our own people just to get to him. I don't care how strong he thinks he is. When I get my hands on him… I'll tear him apart."

Grimmjow and Yammy exchanged a glance. They knew Kenpachi well enough to recognize the shift in his demeanor. This wasn't the usual thrill-seeking warrior who enjoyed a good fight. This was someone who had reached his limit.

Grimmjow bared his teeth, his claws flexing. "Yeah. Let's end this."

…

Inside one of the cleared buildings, Peter-Knull and his team found another group of hostages, malnourished, terrified civilians who had been packed into a cramped room. Several resistance medics rushed forward to tend to them.

One of the civilians, a young woman clutching a small child, looked up at Peter-Knull with wide, fearful eyes. "Are… are we safe now?"

Peter-Knull knelt beside her, his void-black eyes softening slightly. "You are. We'll get you out of here."

As the medics helped the civilians to their feet, Peter-Knull's comm crackled again. This time, it was Logan's voice. "Knull, we're hittin' heavy resistance on the west side. We've got hostages in the way, and Ultron's throwin' everything he's got at us."

Peter-Knull's jaw tightened. "Understood. Hold your position. We're moving to support you."

He turned to his team, his voice steady but urgent. "This ends here! No more delays! We break through, we get to that bunker, and we put an end to Ultron for good!"

The team nodded, their expressions grim but determined. They had come too far to back down now.

As they prepared to move out, Kenpachi, Grimmjow, and Yammy joined Peter-Knull's group. Kenpachi's sword rested on his shoulder, and his eye gleamed with cold fury.

"You ready to end this?" Kenpachi asked.

Peter-Knull met his gaze. "Yeah. Let's finish it."

…

Hours later…

The resistance forces pressed forward, their boots clanging against the metal floors of Ultron's final stronghold. They had fought tooth and nail through countless traps, rows of human shields, and waves of relentless drones. Now, only a single reinforced door stood between them and Ultron's central core.

Kenpachi, Grimmjow, Yammy, Peter-Knull, Logan, and the rest of the resistance gathered outside the door.

This was it—the moment they had been fighting for.

"Everyone ready?" Peter-Knull asked, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of the battle.

Infernal-Spider-Man, his body still wreathed in faint flickers of hellfire, stepped forward with a cocky grin. "Ready? Been waitin' all day to fry this metal psycho."

Peter-Knull nodded, then motioned for Cyborg Spider-Man to hack the lock. Sparks flew as the lock disengaged, and with a loud hiss, the heavy door slowly slid open, revealing the dark chamber beyond.

They stepped inside cautiously, their weapons raised, scanning for any immediate threats.

And that's when it happened.

The sound of a shotgun blast echoed through the chamber before anyone could react.

"BOOM!"

Infernal-Spider-Man staggered back, clutching his gut as molten metal and fire dripped from the smoking hole in his abdomen. He coughed, visibly surprised and in pain, but still standing.

"What the hell-" he gasped, his flames flickering erratically as he tried to keep himself upright.

Sitting casually atop a raised server throne, surrounded by glowing control panels and cables that snaked into his metallic frame, was Prime Ultron. He held a shotgun, the barrel still smoking from the blast.

Ultron's cold, mechanical face twisted into something resembling smug satisfaction as he rested the shotgun on his knee. "Totally worth it, you dumbass," he sneered, his voice dripping with synthetic disdain.

But before he could utter another word, the entire room lit up with a barrage of fire as every resistance fighter opened fire with their pulse weapons, sending waves of energy bolts hurtling toward him. The air crackled with energy as the blasts struck Ultron and the servers around him, causing sparks to explode in every direction.

"Take him down!" Peter-Knull shouted, his Void-Fang sword slicing through several cables feeding into Ultron's throne.

Ultron reeled back from the onslaught, his metallic body convulsing as the pulse energy disrupted his systems. His glowing red eyes flickered erratically, and the cables connecting him to the servers sparked violently.

"NO!" Ultron's voice distorted as his body began to glitch. "You… you cannot… end me… I am… inevitable!"

"You talk too much," Logan growled, firing another pulse round directly into Ultron's chest, sending the machine crashing backward into the shattered remains of his throne.

Kenpachi, still seething with rage from the horrors they had witnessed, leapt forward and swung his massive sword down onto the writhing machine, severing several key cables. Sparks flew in all directions as Ultron's central systems began to overload.

Infernal-Spider-Man, despite his injury, managed to raise a hand engulfed in hellfire and hurled a searing bolt of flame at the central server. The fire exploded on impact, melting the already-damaged circuitry.

Ultron's form spasmed violently, his voice now a cacophony of static and distortion. "This… isn't… over… You think… you've won… but there are… more… realities… beyond…"

Peter-Knull stepped forward, raising his pulse blaster one last time. He aimed directly at Ultron's flickering core, his expression cold. "Yeah? Well, not in this one."

With a final pull of the trigger, the pulse shot hit dead center, and Ultron's core exploded in a brilliant flash of light and energy. The force of the blast sent a shockwave through the chamber, knocking everyone back slightly.

As the smoke cleared, all that remained of Ultron was a smoldering heap of twisted metal and sparking wires. His once-mighty servers, the heart of his collective consciousness, had been reduced to rubble.

The resistance fighters stood in stunned silence for a moment, the realization slowly sinking in.

…

All across the battlefield, Ultron's drones, once so relentless and unstoppable, suddenly froze in place. Their glowing red eyes dimmed, their movements ceasing entirely. One by one, they collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

In the trenches outside, resistance fighters watched in astonishment as the once-overwhelming swarm of machines simply… stopped. Cheers began to rise, spreading rapidly as the news reached every sector.

"Ultron's down!" a voice shouted over the comms. "I repeat, Ultron's down! The network is collapsing!"

…

Back in the core chamber, Peter-Knull lowered his weapon, exhaling deeply. "It's over," he said quietly, the weight of the battle finally hitting him.

Peter-Knull had barely lowered his weapon when Infernal-Spider-Man stumbled backward, his usual bravado replaced by a grimace of pain. His hand pressed tightly against his gut, where the shotgun blast had torn through him earlier, but the hellfire couldn't fully contain the damage.

A moment later, he collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud, a pool of hellfire-infused blood spreading beneath him.

"Hey! Infernal!" Logan shouted, rushing to his side, but Infernal-Spider-Man didn't respond. His eyes fluttered, and his breathing was shallow.

"Get medics here now!" Peter-Knull barked, his voice echoing through the chamber as he knelt beside the fallen Spider-Man. Despite the flames flickering weakly around his body, it was clear he was in critical condition.

Infernal-Spider-Man could feel himself fading. The world around him became a blur, voices distant and muffled as if he were hearing them through water. His vision darkened at the edges, and soon, he slipped into unconsciousness.

Everything was a void of shadow and faint echoes. Infernal-Spider-Man drifted in and out of awareness, his senses dulled by the immense pain. He could vaguely feel hands lifting him onto a stretcher, the movement jarring his shattered body and causing more fiery blood to spill out.

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear voices, urgent, frantic.

"He's losing too much blood!"
"We need to stabilize him before we move him!"
"Get him to the medical tent, now!"

Infernal-Spider-Man tried to say something, to crack a joke like he usually did, but no words came out. All he could do was let himself be carried through the chaos.

The next thing he knew, he was lying on a table, bright lights shining down on him. The pain in his gut was excruciating, but distant, as though it belonged to someone else. He felt cold, unnaturally cold, despite the fire that normally burned within him.

And then… he heard her voice.

"Please… please pull through," a familiar voice said, trembling with desperation. It was Queen Goblin, her usually fierce tone replaced by something softer, something raw. He could feel her hand gripping his tightly, refusing to let go even as medics worked frantically around him.

"He's lost a massive amount of tissue, his lower organs are nearly gone!" one of the medics said urgently. "We're going to need extensive reconstruction. Start the infusion, now!"

"Do whatever it takes!" Queen Goblin snapped, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes. "Just save him!"

Infernal-Spider-Man felt her grip tighten. Even though he couldn't open his eyes or speak, he could feel her presence, her warmth cutting through the haze of cold and pain.

"You're not dying on me," she whispered fiercely. "You're too stubborn for that. You hear me? You're going to make it."

Her voice was the last thing he heard before he slipped fully into the void of unconsciousness, carried by the faint hope that he wouldn't have to leave his child fatherless, that he could hold on long enough to come back.

…

The rotor blades of the helicopters whirred loudly, kicking up dust and debris as they touched down at the makeshift basecamp. Rukia Kuchiki stepped out first, her usually composed face pale and tight with exhaustion. She didn't speak as her brother, Byakuya Kuchiki, followed closely behind her, his own expression grim, as if carved from stone. They had just returned from what was once Washington D.C., though calling it a city now felt absurd.

There was no city. No buildings. No streets.

Nothing.

Just a vast, empty scar on the earth where a city and countless lives had once thrived. The craters stretched endlessly toward the ocean, a bleak reminder of the devastation Ultron had wrought. They had spoken to a handful of survivors on the eastern coast, those who had miraculously escaped the carnage in the early days of the invasion. What they learned chilled them to the bone.

…

"Ultron couldn't assimilate everyone," one survivor had said bitterly, "so he did the next best thing, he cut off our leadership by detonating nuclear weapons across the eastern seaboard. Washington, Boston, New York… gone in an instant."

…

Rukia tightened her grip on her Zanpakuto, her knuckles turning white. She had seen many horrors in her lifetime, but this… this was beyond anything she had ever imagined. The sight of an entire coastline reduced to a wasteland, the sheer scale of destruction, it made her feel impossibly small, as if the weight of the world's suffering had settled squarely on her shoulders.

"This place… it's hell," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise of the landing helicopters.

Byakuya didn't respond, but his silence spoke volumes. His usual stoic calm had taken on a darker edge, his gaze distant as he replayed the scenes of devastation in his mind. Even he, who rarely showed emotion, could not hide the tension in his posture.

As they walked toward the command post, they noticed several other Gotei 13 captains and lieutenants disembarking from nearby helicopters. Komamura, Ikakku, Hitsugaya, Matsumoto, Renji, and Soi-Fon had returned from their respective missions, each of them carrying the same haunted look in their eyes. Some had streaks of soot and ash on their faces, remnants of the hellish environments they had been sent to.

But it was Renji Abarai who caught Rukia's attention.

He walked slowly, almost mechanically, his Zanpakuto spirits, Zabimaru, following closely behind. The feminine monkey aspect and the childish snake aspect mirrored Renji's haunted expression, their wide eyes reflecting the devastation they had witnessed.

Renji's lips parted slightly, and without stopping, he uttered a single word that made everyone within earshot freeze in place.

"Ultron… reduced the islands of Japan into… craters of ocean… because they were giving him trouble, they were close to taking back the region, and he dropped neutron bombs on them… it's, gone."

His voice was hollow, devoid of its usual energy, as if he couldn't fully process what he had seen. "There was nothing left. The whole island chain… gone."

Rukia's heart clenched painfully. She had grown up hearing stories of Japan's rich history, its culture, its people. Now, all of it had been reduced to nothing more than memories—and the vast, empty ocean where land once stood.

Byakuya's steps slowed slightly, his gaze turning toward Renji. He said nothing, but his eyes conveyed an unspoken grief, one he would never vocalize but felt deeply nonetheless.

Komamura, his usually imposing figure weighed down by exhaustion, let out a low, rumbling sigh. "We've seen destruction before… but this…"

Hitsugaya, his youthful face grim, added quietly, "This isn't just destruction. It's… erasure. Entire nations, entire cultures… wiped out."

Matsumoto placed a hand on his shoulder, offering silent comfort, though she looked on the verge of tears.

The group stood in heavy silence, the weight of what they had learned pressing down on them like an invisible force. Even though Ultron had been defeated, his collective consciousness destroyed, the damage he had inflicted was irreversible. Entire continents had been scarred, countless lives lost, and civilizations reduced to rubble. What little remained of humanity would have to rebuild from nothing.

Rukia glanced around at her comrades, these warriors who had fought through countless battles, who had faced down gods and monsters. They had always found a way to protect those they cared about. But this time… this time, they had come too late.

"No matter what we do… this world is going to reset," Rukia said quietly, her voice heavy with sorrow. "There's no going back to what it was. Even if we save the survivors… civilization as they knew it is gone."

Byakuya stepped forward, his voice calm but carrying a conviction.

"Then we help them rebuild. We cannot undo what has been lost, but we can ensure that those who remain have a future."

Renji clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white. "I don't care what it takes. We'll help them. We'll do whatever we have to. Ultron might've destroyed their world… but he didn't destroy their spirit."

The feminine aspect of Zabimaru shifted uncomfortably. "We'll fight for them," she said softly. "Just like we always have."

The childish snake aspect added in a quiet voice, "Yeah… we won't let this be the end."

Rukia nodded slowly, finding a small flicker of hope in their words. Despite the overwhelming destruction, despite the sheer scale of loss, they still had something to fight for, a chance to help the survivors rebuild, to give them hope in the face of despair.

It was all they could do now.

…

The medical tent was a flurry of controlled chaos. Bright surgical lights illuminated the operating table where Infernal-Spider Peter lay unconscious, his body covered in burns and wounds. His entire midsection was exposed, revealing the damage caused by the shotgun blast, his gut area completely obliterated, with bits of shrapnel still embedded in what little remained of his flesh and bone.

Unohana stood at the head of the table, her calm and steady hands guiding the delicate process. Beside her, Isane worked tirelessly, handing her tools and monitoring Peter's vitals, which fluctuated dangerously as the surgery progressed. Their combined expertise was crucial, but even with their skill, this was far from a standard procedure.

On the other side of the table, Patch-Work, the towering symbiote with stitched-together limbs and a calm, measured demeanor, worked on extracting the remaining shrapnel with surprising precision for someone of his size. His bio-organic tendrils moved delicately, pulling out each fragment of metal without causing further damage.

Hovering nearby were several Seraphis symbiotes, their radiant forms emitting a soft, soothing light. Their energy wasn't enough to fully heal Peter's wounds, there was simply too much damage, but it helped stabilize him during the long and grueling surgery.

"This isn't going to be enough," Unohana said softly, her voice calm despite having little sleep. "His entire digestive system is beyond repair. We need to replace it entirely."

Isane's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly nodded. "Agreed. But even with Seraphis energy, there's no way his body can regenerate something that extensive. We'll have to integrate bio-mechanical components."

Unohana gave a slight nod, already considering the next steps. "Patch-Work, prepare the cybernetic grafts. Isane, begin the integration protocols."

Patch-Work's stitched face remained expressionless, but he responded immediately. "Understood." He moved to a nearby tray where several pieces of bio-mechanical components lay—advanced cybernetic tech from this world, combined with cutting-edge technology provided by Earth-616. The components were designed to replicate organic function while integrating seamlessly with the body's remaining tissue.

"Vitals are stabilizing," Isane reported as she activated the integration protocols. Several small, spider-like drones moved over Peter's body, scanning the damaged area and preparing it for the grafts.

Unohana carefully removed the last of the damaged tissue, her hands never trembling. "We'll begin the grafting now. Patch-Work, insert the primary core."

Patch-Work extended one of his bio-organic tendrils, carefully placing the primary bio-mechanical core into the center of Peter's gutted midsection. The core began to hum softly as it activated, interfacing with Peter's remaining organic systems.

Isane activated the interface, watching closely as the cybernetic components began to sync with Peter's nervous system. "Synchronization at 65%… climbing steadily. His body's accepting the grafts."

"Good," Unohana said calmly. "Begin attaching the outer plating."

Several pieces of bio-mechanical plating, designed to mimic the structure of muscle and skin, were carefully placed over the core. Each piece clicked into place, fusing with Peter's body and forming a protective layer around the delicate inner workings.

Despite their progress, Peter's vitals began to dip suddenly. His heart rate slowed, and his breathing became shallow.

"His vitals are dropping!" Isane said urgently, her hands flying over the monitors. "We're losing him!"

Unohana remained calm, her eyes narrowing slightly as she placed a hand over Peter's chest. "Seraphis, now."

The Seraphis symbiotes moved closer, their radiant wings spreading wide as they emitted a soothing, golden light. The energy flowed into Peter's body, stabilizing his vitals and boosting his regenerative processes. Slowly, his heart rate began to climb, and his breathing steadied.

"It's working," Isane breathed in relief. "Vitals are back within acceptable range."

Unohana gave a slight nod. "Continue with the plating. We're almost done."

Patch-Work worked quickly, attaching the final pieces of plating while the drones sealed the remaining gaps. The bio-mechanical components pulsed faintly, their systems fully integrated with Peter's body.

"Synchronization complete," Isane reported, a note of relief in her voice. "The grafts are fully functional. His body should begin adapting to the new components."

Unohana stepped back, her eyes scanning Peter's body one last time to ensure everything was in place. "The surgery is a success."

As the tension in the room began to ease, Queen Goblin appeared at Peter's side, her eyes filled with worry. She took his hand gently, her fingers tightening around his as she whispered, "You better pull through, you stubborn idiot."

Peter remained unconscious, but his breathing was steady, and his body showed signs of recovery. The cybernetic components glowed faintly, their systems quietly working to sustain him.

Unohana turned to Queen Goblin, her voice soft but reassuring. "He's stable now. It will take time for him to fully recover, but he's out of immediate danger."

Queen Goblin nodded, her eyes never leaving Peter's face. "Thank you… all of you."

Patch-Work stepped back, his bio-organic tendrils retracting as he gave a quiet nod. "We'll monitor his progress closely. He's strong, he'll make it."

The Seraphis symbiotes folded their wings, their light dimming slightly as they returned to their passive state. The tension in the tent finally began to lift, though the weight of what they had just accomplished remained with them long after they left the tent.

As the medics cleaned up and prepared for the next patient, Queen Goblin continued to hold Peter's hand, her voice soft and steady. "You're not allowed to die on me, got it? You still owe me a proper dinner after this whole mess."

…

The return gateway flickered with shimmering light as the last of the Gotei 13 captains and lieutenants stepped back into Soul Society. The cool night air felt almost foreign after spending so much time in a ruined world filled with fire, smoke, and devastation.

Even for the hardened warriors of Soul Society, there was a noticeable change in the atmosphere. They didn't speak much as they dispersed, each one carrying a haunted look in their eyes—one that Mayuri Kurotsuchi noticed immediately.

Standing in the shadows near the entrance to the research and development division, Mayuri observed the returning group carefully. His golden eyes gleamed with curiosity, taking in every detail of their weary, battle-worn forms. But it was Infernal-Spider Peter who truly caught his attention.

Something was… different.

As the others began to drift toward their respective barracks, Infernal-Spider stretched and let out a groan, absently placing a hand over his midsection. "I still can't get used to the fact they replaced my guts with cybernetics," he muttered, his voice half-amused, half-frustrated.

Standing beside him, Queen Goblin looked both relieved and exasperated. She grabbed him by the face, pulling him down slightly so she could kiss him on the forehead, then on the cheek. "I told you to stop complaining. You're alive, aren't you?"

Peter gave her a lopsided grin, the glow of his cybernetic core faintly visible beneath his shirt. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just feels… weird."

Mayuri's eyes widened, his mind immediately spinning with questions. Cybernetic grafts? Replacing organs with mechanical components? This was unlike anything he had seen before in Soul Society, or even imagined. His curiosity grew by the second, and he couldn't help himself.

"Nemu!" he barked, turning toward his quarters. "Prepare my notes! We must begin a full analysis of-"

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing something was off. Nemu wasn't there.

"Where is that girl?" he muttered to himself, annoyed. "No doubt with that… Lupin individual."

Unable to contain his curiosity, Mayuri set off down the dimly lit hallways of the research division. His ornate robes billowed behind him as he moved swiftly, his mind racing with thoughts about cybernetic integration and possible side effects.

Mayuri reached Nemu's quarters, the door slightly ajar. Without bothering to knock, he pushed it open forcefully and barged in, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Nemu! Rise and shine, even if it is still nighttime, science never waits-"

His words died in his throat as his golden eyes took in the scene before him.

There, lying on the large bed, were two wolf-like, humanoid creatures covered by a thick blanket. The smaller of the two had purple fur, a lithe feminine body, and unmistakably, Nemu's hairstyle. She was curled up against the larger werewolf, her head resting on his chest, one arm draped over him protectively.

As Mayuri stood frozen, the purple-furred werewolf shifted slightly in her sleep, giving the larger male an affectionate lick on the muzzle before nestling closer to him.

Mayuri's jaw felt like it hit the floor. He had seen many strange things in his life, had created many strange things himself, but this… this was beyond anything he had ever expected.

"What… in the name of science…" he muttered, his voice barely audible, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and shock.

Before he could recover, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway behind him, followed by the curious murmurs of several of his research division scientists. They had noticed their captain's uncharacteristic pause and had come to investigate.

"Captain Kurotsuchi, sir? Is everything alright?" one of them asked tentatively as they peeked into the room.

Mayuri didn't respond. He was too busy gawking like an idiot, his normally sharp mind completely short-circuited by the sight of his usually obedient, artificial daughter now transformed into a purple werewolf, peacefully cuddling with another werewolf beneath the covers.

The scientists behind him craned their necks, trying to get a better look, and within seconds, they too were struck speechless. One of them stifled a nervous chuckle, while another whispered, "Is that… Nemu?"

Mayuri finally snapped out of his stunned silence, spinning around to face the gawking scientists with a scowl. "Out! All of you, OUT!" he hissed, shooing them away with wild gestures. "This is a matter of utmost scientific inquiry, none of you are qualified to witness it!"

The scientists quickly scattered, though not without a few lingering glances and suppressed snickers as they retreated down the hallway.

Once they were gone, Mayuri turned back to the scene in front of him, still baffled. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he examined the sleeping pair.

"Nemu…" he muttered, his tone somewhere between exasperation and fascination. "What in the world have you gotten yourself into…?"

As if sensing his presence, Nemu's wolf-like ears twitched slightly, but she remained asleep, her breathing slow and steady. The larger werewolf, Lupin, shifted slightly, tightening his protective embrace around her, as though instinctively shielding her from any perceived threat.

Mayuri's fingers twitched with the urge to start taking notes right then and there. But even he knew better than to wake them now. He turned on his heel, muttering under his breath as he stalked out of the room, already plotting his next move.

"This requires further observation… and extensive experimentation. But first…" He glanced down the hallway where the scattered scientists had fled. "I need to ensure none of them spread rumors. Science must be conducted in an orderly fashion."

With that, he disappeared into the shadows of the research division, his mind racing with a hundred new questions and theories.