Marvel: From the Void and Back Again, Part 3
Chapter 22: Cyber-Earth-2990, Part 1
…
The energy of the dimensional rift pulsed softly, its edges crackling with a faint neon glow as it hovered just above the ground. The gateway had stabilized, flickering between both worlds, a fragile bridge linking the ruined wasteland of this Earth to the hyper-modern sprawl beyond.
Peter-Knull stood at the threshold, his symbiotic coat shifting with the weight of interdimensional energy. Shield agents, a contingent of Soul Society's shinigami, and several diplomatic representatives stood ready behind him. Captain Amagai, assigned to oversee the mission's success, had already sent word to Soul Society, ensuring they were prepared for any developments.
Further back, Grimmjow leaned against a rusted support beam, arms crossed, his signature grin lazy and sharp. "Heh," he chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "Guess I'll sit this one out. Got some more organizing to do here."
Yammy, standing nearby, raised a skeptical brow. "That right? Thought you'd be itching for another fight."
"Nah," Grimmjow smirked, glancing off toward the base camp. "Got better things to do." He cast a look toward the tent where this Emma Frost had been coordinating affairs with the telepathic survivors of this world. His smirk grew. "World-class hottie and all that."
Yammy groaned. "You're an idiot."
"Yeah, yeah," Grimmjow waved him off. "Enjoy your little field trip, nerds."
Jocasta and Cyber-Peter stood near the rift, going over the plan with Peter-Knull one last time. Jocasta's synthetic eyes scanned him carefully. "This world still has active Avengers. But don't expect a warm welcome, especially from the mutant population. Tensions between humans and mutants never truly settled after Krakoa fell apart."
Peter-Knull nodded slowly. "Yeah… I remember this world. Visited it once before. It follows the pattern of others I've been to. Krakoa fell because it became something it was never meant to be." He exhaled. "I exposed them back then, helped take care of their Knull infestation. But I doubt many of them will see that as a good thing."
Cyber-Peter grimaced. "You're not wrong. Logan, Wanda, and Quicksilver have all returned to the Avengers in recent days, but the rest? Just… keep an open mind. Not everyone has moved past what happened."
Peter-Knull flexed his fingers, the black symbiote coating his knuckles shifting slightly. "Understood."
Jocasta's systems hummed softly as she double-checked the readings. "We've pinpointed a stable entry point in downtown New York. The city's infrastructure is still intact, but you'll notice the differences immediately. It's not the New York you know."
Peter-Knull cracked his neck and took a step forward. "Let's get this over with."
One by one, the team stepped through the rift.
The transition was instant.
Where before there had been barren wastelands and makeshift settlements, now there was a sprawling city bathed in neon. Towering skyscrapers stretched high, their surfaces reflecting brilliant electric blues and reds from the hundreds of holographic billboards littering the skyline. Hovercars zipped through the air on designated sky lanes, and below, the streets bustled with people, many of whom bore cybernetic enhancements—augmented limbs, glowing data ports, sleek synthetic armor grafted onto their bodies.
Peter-Knull stepped forward, his boots pressing into the damp, metallic pavement. The smell of rain mixed with engine fuel filled the air, and somewhere in the distance, a monorail hummed past, its sleek form gliding above the streets.
The group took in their surroundings.
"Damn," one of the Shield agents muttered. "It's like stepping into a dystopian film."
Amagai, ever composed, adjusted his sword at his side. "No mistaking it—this place has seen massive technological advancements. Even Soul Society could stand to learn from some of this."
Jocasta scanned the skyline, her optics rapidly adjusting to the city's unique energy signature. "We need to head toward Avengers Tower. They'll likely detect our arrival soon."
Peter-Knull flexed his hands, sensing the energy in the air. "They already have."
At that moment, a drone whizzed past overhead, its sleek black frame turning sharply as it locked onto them. A holographic projection materialized from its side, revealing a familiar face—Tony Stark.
Or rather, a, Tony Stark.
"Ah," Cyber-Tony's voice crackled through the projection. "New visitors. Don't tell me—another interdimensional cleanup crew?"
Jocasta stepped forward. "Close enough."
Cyber-Tony exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Great. That means you're here to deal with whatever the hell is making all the mutant districts go haywire." His gaze settled on Peter-Knull, and for a moment, his smirk faltered. "Wait a second… I know you."
Peter-Knull smirked. "Yeah. You do."
The projection flickered slightly, Stark's expression shifting. "Yeah… this just got interesting. Alright. If you guys are serious about helping, I suggest you follow that drone. The Avengers have some… concerns you might want to hear."
The projection cut out, and the drone immediately turned, zipping toward the skyline.
Peter-Knull adjusted his coat. "Guess we're doing this."
Jocasta's expression was unreadable as she glanced at Cyber-Peter. "This is going to get complicated."
Cyber-Peter exhaled. "Yeah. Story of my life."
The high-tech drone led them through the cybernetic sprawl of New York, weaving between neon-lit skyscrapers and floating digital billboards advertising everything from cybernetic enhancements to hover-tech vehicles. The city pulsed with energy—both technological and human—as people bustled about their daily lives, many clad in sleek, circuit-lined outfits that blended seamlessly with their enhancements.
As they neared the towering monolith that was Avengers Tower, its massive structure gleaming under the artificial glow of the city, Tom Mark-1 visibly brightened. "We're finally home," he said with clear relief, his synthetic voice carrying an unmistakable human warmth.
Jocasta exhaled, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Yes. We made it."
When they stepped through the entrance, security scanners activated, running advanced bioscans on each of them. The defenses hummed as mechanical turrets briefly focused on Peter-Knull and the Soul Society operatives before an automated voice echoed through the chamber.
"Identities confirmed. Welcome back, Avengers."
The moment the doors fully opened, a team of figures was already approaching.
Cyber-Wolverine was the first to step forward. Logan's Adamantium-clad boots thudded against the reinforced flooring, his advanced cybernetic enhancements barely diminishing the raw presence he carried. He looked nearly identical to other versions of himself—rugged, intense, but his battle-worn armor had a sleekness to it, the neon circuitry lining his frame glowing faintly as he scanned the newcomers.
"Well, I'll be damned," Logan muttered, crossing his arms. "Didn't think I'd be seein' you again, Knull."
Peter-Knull smirked, adjusting his coat. "Yeah, it's been a while."
The rest of the Avengers moved in behind Logan, this world's Captain America, his iconic shield now laced with an energy field; Quicksilver, dressed in a sleek, form-fitting suit that crackled with electric blue light; and Wanda Maximoff, who carried herself with the same quiet confidence Peter-Knull had seen in nearly every version of her.
But their focus wasn't on him just yet.
The moment Jocasta and Cyber-Peter stepped inside, the tension broke.
Wanda was the first to step forward, relief washing over her features. "You're alive," she breathed. "We lost track of you both. One second, your energy signatures were stable, and the next, you were just gone."
Cyber-Peter chuckled weakly. "Yeah… about that. We'll explain."
Quicksilver snorted, arms crossed. "Damn right you will."
Tom Mark-1 was instantly at Wanda's side, looking up at the woman who's like an aunt to him. "I'm happy to be back Aunt Wanda… I thought I wouldn't make it back after being displaced so suddenly."
She knelt down, cupping his face. "And you, sweetheart."
As the reunion unfolded, Logan kept his eyes locked onto Peter-Knull. After a moment, he gave a slow shake of his head. "Last time you were here… you were a damn mess." He studied him carefully. "Figured after the Knull infestation, and Krakoa, you'd either be dead, or lost in your own misery."
Peter-Knull's smirk softened slightly. "Yeah… I was. I lost Gwen as you remember. And then, I lost someone else… a variant of Madelyne Pryor."
That got Logan's attention. His gaze darkened, but he didn't speak, waiting for him to continue.
Peter-Knull inhaled deeply before exhaling. "But since then, I found love again. With another Madelyne." A small smirk played on his lips as he thought about his Madelyn Pryor, who was back home. "We have three kids now… and two more on the way."
Inside the Avengers Tower, the group gathered in a high-tech war room, surrounded by holographic projections of various Earths and their fluctuating stability. Peter-Knull stood at the center, presenting the data he had compiled.
"A while back, another variant of Knull, one calling himself Shaman-Knull, used an ancient spell to displace me beyond the void, outside this multiverse. That spell was meant to keep me out, but it didn't just affect me." He pointed at the map displaying various Earths. "Due to my displacement, other Spider-Man variants from the worlds I visited before, and those close to them, are being pulled from their realities at random."
Cyber-Peter rubbed his chin. "And we're one of them."
Peter-Knull nodded. "Yes. You, Tom Mark-1, and Jocasta were part of the latest wave. But this is bigger than just a few anomalies."
Amagai stepped forward. "Captain Amagai from Soul Society. I come from a reality beyond the void. A world of Shinigami, Hollows, and an afterlife realm. If Peter-Knull is correct, then this displacement could extend beyond just Spider-Man variants."
Captain America frowned. "Meaning?"
Peter-Knull sighed. "The Knull variants that are still out there have formed an alliance. Their goal was originally to bind me to that world's Hell, a Hell that operates on completely different rules than most I've seen." His eyes hardened. "No superheroes. No gods. No aliens. Just spirits, Hollows, and the afterlife forces that govern them."
Logan took a deep breath. "And these Knulls? How many are we talking about?"
Peter-Knull turned, activating a holographic display that brought up images of ten confirmed Knull variants.
"These are the ones we've encountered and dealt with so far." He gestured to the eerie visuals:
Warbringer-Knull – A heavily armored warlord variant, clad in black and red battle-worn symbiotic plating.
Graviton-Knull – A towering being with swirling tendrils that defy gravity.
Pestilent-Knull and Rot-Knull – Their rotting and disease-infested forms that constantly oozes sickly green bile and rotting material.
Pyroclasm-Knull – A molten, lava-covered being who leaves destruction in his wake.
Necrodrake-Knull – A symbiote-dragon hybrid, wreathed in dark energy.
Scarab-Knull – A scarab-like monstrosity that had manipulated the Valley of Screams.
Scarecrow-Knull – A twisted, undead-like being with an eerie burlap and tendril-ridden form.
Death-Reaper-Knull – A cloaked, skeletal version armed with a scythe of pure entropy.
Shaman-Knull – The mastermind behind the displacement event.
"But there were twenty Knulls in the original coalition," Peter-Knull continued grimly. "This is only half. The rest? We still don't have confirmed locations."
The Avengers fell silent, absorbing the information.
Cyber-Peter ran a hand through his hair. "So let me get this straight—you've been jumping realities, fighting off versions of yourself that are essentially demigods, and now the multiverse is falling apart because of some aftershocks from a spell gone wrong?"
Peter-Knull sighed. "Yeah. That about sums it up."
Quicksilver whistled low. "You really don't do things halfway, do you?"
Peter-Knull smirked slightly. "Never."
Captain America straightened. "Alright, then. What's the plan?"
Peter-Knull's expression turned serious. "First, we stabilize your Earth and keep it from experiencing any further displacement events. Then, we track down the remaining Knulls, starting with Shaman-Knull. If we take him down, we might be able to unravel this mess before it spreads further."
Logan nodded, cracking his knuckles. "Well then, bub. Let's get to work."
…
While diplomatic discussions continued at Avengers Tower, Peter-Knull found himself riding alongside Logan, Gabriella, and Laura, heading toward the Mutant District in one of the sleek, cyberpunk-style transport vehicles that this world relied on for citywide travel. Neon lights flickered outside as they sped past steel-plated roads and towering structures, the humming of energy-powered engines filling the silence.
Logan, seated across from him, leaned back with a skeptical expression. "So… this world's got a zombie-infested Earth next door, and you're telling me it's all cleaned up now?"
Peter-Knull nodded. "Depends on your definition of 'cleaned up'. We managed to release a cure into the water supply, reversing the virus' effects on those who weren't too far gone. But yeah… over seven billion people died in the ten years that virus ran wild. Whole world went to hell before we got there finally put an end to it."
The Gabriella of this world, Laura's younger clone, frowned. "That's insane. And that was because of Xavier and Beast from that world?"
Peter-Knull sighed. "Yeah. They thought they could engineer a new phase of evolution through viral mutation and they tried to hide out in a bunker somewhere. It backfired. Hard."
Logan exhaled sharply through his nose. "Idiots."
Laura, who had been listening silently, finally spoke. "And now this world has a direct link to that reality?"
Peter-Knull nodded again. "Yeah. There's a dimensional gate linking the two. Your world has a chance to help the people still struggling there. Supplies, resources, even just guidance on how to rebuild."
Gabriella tilted her head. "How did you fix that mess? You said there was a cure, but... what made it possible?"
Peter-Knull gave a small exhale as he debated on how to explain. "Her name is Hope. She's a baby right now, but she made all that possible."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Hope?"
Peter-Knull leaned forward slightly. "Yeah. Wanda's counterpart from that world, who got zombified and due to another spider-man variant in another universe, got together with that Spider-Man variants who developed serums that helped her slowly come back to life and heal. They had a daughter. Hope Parker-Maxomoth. She was born immune to the virus, in fact, she's able to control undead and manipulate the virus itself at will. It's tied to her mother's chaos powers."
Gabriella's eyes widened. "A kid with a mutation like that?"
Peter-Knull nodded. "Yep. Her blood allowed us to make a cure. It was just part of her biology. Born with it."
Logan shook his head, rubbing his temple. "Christ. That's a lot to process."
Gabriella scoffed. "Sounds like something out of a bad sci-fi movie."
Peter-Knull shrugged. "That's multiversal reality for you."
As the transport pulled up to the Mutant District, Peter-Knull noticed the immediate shift in atmosphere. The towering neon signs flickered erratically, and a heavy, unnatural fog clung to the streets. Something felt off.
Logan stepped out first, his enhanced senses kicking into overdrive. He sniffed the air, his expression darkening.
"Something ain't right," he muttered.
Gabriella and Laura moved in behind him, their own senses now picking up the same unease.
Peter-Knull narrowed his eyes, feeling his symbiote stir. There was energy distortion in the area, something that wasn't natural to this world.
"Whatever this is," Peter-Knull muttered, "it isn't just a mutant issue."
The streets ahead were too quiet. No civilians, no activity—just an eerie, artificial silence.
Then, as if in response to their presence, a distant metallic screech echoed through the district.
Laura's claws snikted out in reflex. "What the hell was that?"
Logan exhaled, his own claws sliding free. "Guess we're about to find out."
Peter-Knull's crimson eyes flashed, his symbiotic armor subtly shifting in response.
The neon-drenched streets of the Mutant District came alive in the worst possible way.
At first, it was the flickering of streetlights, then the strange groaning of metal shifting unnaturally. The towering billboards above sparked erratically, their holographic displays glitching into bizarre, unreadable patterns. Then, the machinery itself moved.
A vending machine lunged forward, cables flaring like tendrils. A street lamp bent at an unnatural angle, its jagged wires whipping toward them.
The very infrastructure of the district was attacking.
Laura dodged as a hovering drone zipped past, its mechanical casing splitting open to reveal serrated cables, dripping with a viscous black fluid. She slashed it out of the air, its pieces sparking as they crashed onto the pavement.
Gabriella ducked as a trash disposal unit came to life, its compacting arms swinging wildly like a feral beast. She retaliated with a ferocious kick, sending the thing skidding into a storefront.
Logan tore through a mass of writhing cables with his claws, only for them to stitch themselves back together. His expression turned feral.
"What the hell IS this?!"
Peter-Knull was already moving, his symbiotic tendrils extending as he bisected a rapidly approaching hovercar. The sleek, cybernetic vehicle was sliced cleanly in two—only for both halves to immediately begin writhing, slithering toward one another like a severed limb regenerating.
Then Peter-Knull saw it.
His hands went slack. The battle blurred around him as his eyes locked onto the thing inside.
The two halves of the hovercar were pulling together, wires twisting and writhing into place, the metal shifting in a disturbingly organic manner.
And then he saw the teeth forming along the jagged edges of the car's bumper.
The headlights twisted, flickering, until they resembled eyes. Jagged, predatory symbiotic eyes.
A chill ran down Peter-Knull's spine.
"Wait..." he muttered, barely registering Logan's growl as the fight continued around him.
He stepped forward, staring at the hovercar's shifting form as it twisted back together.
"These are… symbiotes...?"
His voice despite being quiet, seemed to echo in the minds of those who heard it.
"Machine symbiotes?"
The realization hit like a thunderclap.
This wasn't just a corrupt AI takeover.
Someone had merged symbiotes with technology.
And that meant something very, very bad.
Peter-Knull's crimson eyes flashed as his symbiotic tendrils lashed out, striking with ruthless precision. His black-and-red biomass slithered into the writhing machine-symbiotes, burrowing deep into their structures before expanding inside out.
The hovercar jerked violently, its artificial body twisting and convulsing as Peter-Knull's symbiote consumed it from within. The jagged, glowing "eyes" on its headlights flickered—fading, before the entire machine collapsed into a hollow shell. The predatory grin that had formed along its bumper was now frozen, lifeless, devoid of the disturbing sentience it once had.
One by one, the other machine-symbiotes suffered the same fate.
Peter-Knull's tendrils surged forward, sinking into the living cables, infecting the corrupted neon signs, even seeping into the pavement beneath them where other machine constructs lurked. He felt their hunger, their fragmented thoughts screaming in his mind-.
ERROR. ERROR. HOSTILE ENTITY DETECTED. OVERRIDE ATTEMPT-SYSTEM FAILURE.
One after another, the symbiotic intelligence inside these machines was devoured, absorbed, dismantled.
Within seconds, the chaos had ended.
The streets went dead silent.
The hollow husks of what were once living machines clattered to the ground, leaving only their lifeless, metallic shells. The neon lights still flickered erratically, but there were no more attacks.
Peter-Knull's symbiotic mass retracted back into his body. He exhaled slowly, processing everything he had just learned.
Logan sheathed his claws, glancing at the broken remains of the attack. "Well. That was not how I expected my day to go?" Laura kicked one of the hollowed-out hovercar shells, watching it crumble. "So? What the hell were those things?"
Peter-Knull crouched beside the remains of one of the machine-symbiotes. His fingers traced over the fragmented wires and tendrils, still glistening with faint black symbiote residue.
Then he noticed it, Lines of shifting code.
The remains of the symbiote still contained data strings. They weren't just organic creatures like himself or Venom.
They had always been machines.
Peter-Knull narrowed his eyes, scanning deeper into the residual symbiotic tissue.
They had DNA, but it wasn't natural. It was code-based.
"They weren't infected machines," Peter-Knull muttered, realization dawning. "They were always like this."
Gabriella frowned. "What does that mean?"
Peter-Knull's voice was grim.
"It means they weren't created the way my kind were. They weren't spawned from organic symbiotes." He looked up, his expression darkening. "Their creator was a Machine-Knull."
A heavy silence settled over the group as Logan stared at Peter-Knull, his expression caught between disbelief and sheer irritation.
"A robot Knull?" Logan finally said, his voice low and skeptical. "You're tellin' me there's a version of you out there, but made of wires and circuits?"
Peter-Knull didn't answer immediately, still analyzing the residual code-like DNA embedded in the remains of the fallen machine-symbiotes. He traced his fingers over the shifting data strands, his frown deepening.
Logan exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Look, bub, I've fought a lotta weird things, aliens, demons, clones, even a damn cyborg Hulk once, but you're tellin' me that Knull, a being who came from the void itself, just... spontaneously decided to become a machine?"
"That's not how robots work," Gabriella added, her voice laced with confusion. "They're built. By something. By someone. Machines don't just randomly wake up in the void like the rest of your variants."
Laura folded her arms, her golden eyes sharp. "Yeah, that doesn't track at all. Machines don't evolve like lifeforms. So how does a machine Knull exist?"
Peter-Knull finally stood up, exhaling as he let his thoughts settle.
"You're right," he admitted. "It doesn't make any coherent sense, by any normal logic. But..." His crimson eyes flickered as he turned toward them. "We're not dealing with normal logic here."
Gabriella scoffed. "No kidding."
Peter-Knull let out a slow, frustrated exhale, rubbing his temples as if trying to physically push the nonsense out of his brain. His symbiote pulsed around him, a reflection of his irritation.
"Here's the point," he muttered, leveling a look at them. "I don't have a single clue why this Knull is different from the rest. None. Zilch. Nada."
He gestured sharply toward the broken machine symbiote husks at their feet. "But seeing as the last Knull I dealt with was a mountain-sized scarab, I'm not exactly in the mood to question the logistics of how these bastards work anymore."
Logan arched a skeptical eyebrow. "A mountain-sized scarab?"
"Yeah," Peter-Knull deadpanned. "You ever try punching something that's the size of a damn city block? No? Then count yourself lucky."
Gabriella and Laura exchanged glances.
"Okay, yeah, that does sound like a problem," Gabriella admitted.
Peter-Knull pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. "It's already giving me a symbiote-induced headache just thinking about it."
Logan snorted. "Welcome to my world, bub."
Peter-Knull rolled his shoulders, straightening up. "Anyway, my best guess is that this Machine-Knull is something else entirely. The problem is, I don't know if that makes him weaker… or a hell of a lot worse."
A deep, low vibration pulsed through the air again, rattling the neon-lit windows around them.
Peter-Knull's eyes narrowed.
"…And I think we're about to get our answer-."
Just then they noticed a massive red figure in the sky, and Peter-Knull just stared as the figure got bigger and bigger…
"Shit…" was all he said as he glared at the sky.
The moment the first celestial form tore through the fabric of reality, the world felt it.
A deep, resonant hum echoed across the sky, like the very universe itself groaning in protest. The clouds burned away, torn apart by gravitational distortions as four impossibly massive figures descended upon the Earth, each of them towering, ancient, cold. Their sheer presence made the air tangible, pressing against every living thing as if the planet itself was struggling to stay in place.
And then, Arishem the Judge arrived.
His sheer colossal form dwarfed everything, his illuminated eyes casting a judgmental glow across the ruined skyline. Entire continents could see him. Cities crumbled just from the proximity of the Celestial's power, while oceans recoiled in unnatural tides.
And then, the voice of judgment came.
"Peter-Knull of the Living Multiverse, you are summoned to answer for your sins."
The voice didn't boom, it simply existed everywhere, its presence invading the minds of every living being.
Peter-Knull didn't move. His expression was unreadable, but Logan could see it. The stillness wasn't patience.
It was contained rage.
Gabriella and Laura's comms crackled wildly, voices screaming across all channels.
"What the hell is that-?"
"We've got four unknown constructs descending, wait, no, they're-!"
"Oh my God, it's-!"
"-They're Celestials! We're all gonna die!"
And suddenly, chaos.
People began screaming. The city was collapsing into riots, panic spilling through the streets like fire through dry brush. The sheer terror of seeing something so impossibly massive, so insignificantly powerful, was enough to throw the world into madness.
Logan wasn't even focused on that.
He was focused on Peter-Knull.
Because something was different this time.
Peter-Knull stood stock still, but his symbiote was moving violently, writhing, churning, reacting to something inside him.
Logan had fought with him before. He'd seen the guy go up against monsters, gods, and cosmic horrors.
He had never seen him like this.
Peter-Knull's fingers curled into fists.
His tendrils began shifting, the red-and-black symbiote taking a new shape, lashing like it was barely contained. Logan's instincts screamed at him, this is bad.
He didn't know what the hell had happened between Peter-Knull and the Celestials, but this wasn't just hatred.
This was pure, boiling wrath.
And then, Arishem spoke again.
"Your interference in cosmic balance has been deemed an affront to the grand design."
"Your presence disrupts the rightful judgment of lesser civilizations."
"You are unfit to wield power beyond mortal comprehension."
And then, the final insult.
"Your continued existence is an error."
Something snapped.
Logan actually felt the moment Peter-Knull's patience ceased to exist.
Peter-Knull's crimson eyes burned like stars going supernova. His symbiote seethed, his tendrils snapping outward like fangs, coiling into an unstable mass of something primal.
Logan involuntarily stepped back.
He'd never stepped back from anything in his life.
And he was terrified.
Peter-Knull spoke. And it was unlike anything Logan had ever heard from him.
"I have been patient with you."
His voice was calm. Too calm.
It was the kind of calm that happened before something apocalyptic.
Peter-Knull slowly raised his head, locking his burning gaze on Arishem, his rage given form.
"And you have just exhausted the last of it."
A low, guttural vibration rumbled from Peter-Knull's chest, something beyond a growl, something primal.
His hand rose slowly, deliberately, his fingers curling as his symbiote shifted in unnatural patterns around him. His entire presence became something greater, darker, heavier.
Then, he spoke.
It wasn't in any earthly tongue.
It wasn't even in a language meant for mortal minds.
It was in the hissing, growling, rumbling speech of the First Abyss.
The very language of the Void.
Words that weren't heard so much as felt, echoing across reality like a sickness, bleeding into the bones of all who bore witness.
"This is my curse upon you…"
The Celestials froze.
A ripple of something unseen coursed through the air, and suddenly, their armor cracked.
Arishem's glowing eyes flickered, his form trembling as fractures split across his ancient, divine plating.
"I TAKE FROM YOU YOUR POWER!"
The cracks spread.
Celestial bodies that had stood since the dawn of creation began to rust, rot, and decay. Their impossible durability was failing, their very essence withering.
The once-untouchable titans of judgment were breaking down.
Panic set in. For the first time in eons, the Celestials felt fear.
"I TAKE FROM YOU YOUR FREEDOM!"
And then, chains.
Not forged of metal.
Not made of any earthly material, but massive, eldritch, writhing symbiotic chains.
They burst forth from the Void itself, snapping around Arishem's neck, his arms, his legs. More lashed onto the other four Celestials, binding them like captured gods being dragged to their execution.
The chains tightened.
They pulled.
The Celestials fought back, their bodies thrashing, but it was futile.
Peter-Knull's eyes gleamed with merciless intent.
"AND BY THE POWER OF THE VOID-!"
His voice shook the heavens.
"I CAST YOU INTO OBLIVION, FROM WHERE THERE IS NO ESCAPE!"
And then, the black holes opened.
They weren't natural. They weren't even like normal singularities. These were wounds in reality itself.
The chains dragged the Celestials backward, their colossal forms twisting, bending under the force of an abyss from which nothing had ever returned.
The universe itself shrieked as the gods of judgment were being ripped away.
Arishem struggled. His glowing hands reached out, his form trembling as his own light dimmed. His massive fingers grasped at empty air, reaching, clawing, for anything, for salvation.
But there was none.
Peter-Knull lifted his sword.
The Void-Fang.
A weapon that could sever gods from existence itself.
With one effortless motion, he hurled it skyward.
The blade sang through the air, whistling like the herald of death itself, before it pierced directly into Arishem's chest cavity.
In that one moment the judge was judged.
A wormhole tore open within him, crushing his insides, his celestial systems overloading with sheer pain.
The stars trembled.
The heavens burned.
Arishem the Judge, who had once sentenced civilizations to extinction with but a single thought, was now screaming.
Then, the black hole collapsed.
And the Celestials were gone.
Judgment had been reversed.
The last thing anyone heard was the fading echoes of Peter-Knull's words, still hanging in the wind like a final curse.
"…Buckle up. You're not going to like it."
…
After that shocking display, silence followed…
Cyber-Logan's breathing was slow, measured, but his hands were clenched so tight that his reinforced knuckles creaked. He had seen a lot of impossible things in his life, wars, mutants, monsters, gods, but this? This wasn't power. This wasn't strength. This was something beyond anything he could comprehend.
He didn't even realize his claws had retracted. There was no point in standing ready when there was no fight to be had, not against something like that. That wasn't a battle. That was an execution. And for the first time, Logan understood something deep in his gut, something that made his instincts scream at him.
He had just watched the single most dangerous being in all of existence lose patience.
Cyber-Laura swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe as she stared at the empty space where five Celestials had just been. Where gods had stood moments ago, arrogant, untouchable, and then gone. Unmade. Erased from history, from reality itself, as if they had never mattered. Her sharp golden eyes flickered toward Peter-Knull, watching the way his posture hadn't changed. He wasn't gloating. He wasn't reveling in his victory. He was just standing there, silent.
And that's when it hit her.
He'd been holding back.
This whole time, every mission, every fight, every battle where they thought they had seen him at his best? It had been nothing. A fraction of what he was truly capable of. The idea made her stomach turn. If he had wanted to, he could've done this to them. To anyone. To entire realities. But he didn't.
That was the scariest part.
Cyber-Gabriella shuddered, forcing herself to snap out of the daze. She'd seen gods fall before, sure. But this wasn't a fall. This was complete and utter annihilation, as if those Celestials had never even deserved to exist in the first place. Her fingers twitched, as if her claws would help in this situation, but she was too shaken to event think about the pointless act of drawing them.
And then she looked at Logan.
He wasn't moving. He wasn't even breathing for a moment, his sharp blue eyes locked onto Peter-Knull like he was seeing him for the first time. And maybe he was.
Because now, he finally understood.
This whole time, every interaction, every moment they had spoken to Peter-Knull, he had been patient with them.
He had been going easy on them.
He had let them have their say. He had let them push, let them question, let them stand in his presence like they were equals.
But they never were.
They never had been.
Logan made a decision in that moment, and he made it with absolute certainty.
Never, under any circumstances, should they or their allies ever, EVER, try to intimidate or provoke Peter-Knull.
Because the moment they did? The moment they crossed that line?
They would already be dead.
And the worst part?
Peter-Knull was probably afraid of his own power.
Not of losing. Not of being killed. But of what he was capable of if he ever truly let loose.
And that?
That was the most terrifying thing Logan had ever realized in his life.
…
At Avenger's tower…
Tesra and Yammy had seen their fair share of powerful beings, Soul Reapers, Hollows, Arrancar, and even gods. But nothing in their existence had prepared them for this.
The moment the sky darkened and the sheer, overwhelming pressure of their presence filled the air, they knew something was wrong.
Tesra had been mid-sentence, discussing logistics with one of the Shinigami overseeing operations, when everything stopped. The air itself grew heavy, crushing down on them like gravity had suddenly tripled. The comms in the area went haywire, static flooding through every channel as the city lights flickered erratically. And then, the ground trembled. Not like an earthquake. Not like a simple shockwave. Something massive was casting a shadow over them.
Yammy was the first to actually look up.
And when he did, he froze. His mouth, which was usually set in a cocky grin or an annoyed scowl, hung open, his eyes wide with something he rarely, if ever, felt.
Pure, paralyzing fear.
"Tesra…" His voice came out unnaturally quiet.
Tesra turned instinctively, but the moment his gaze followed Yammy's line of sight, his entire body locked up.
They weren't just big.
They weren't just tall.
They were beyond comprehension.
Five massive figures stood in the blackness of space, looming over the planet like silent, waiting gods. Their heads were bigger than entire cities. Their armor gleamed with an eerie celestial glow, their bodies wrapped in divine energy that pulsed like living stars.
Tesra's knees nearly buckled. He had fought monstrous Hollows. He had seen ancient, world-ending beings before. But this? These things could snuff out entire solar systems just by existing.
The Celestials stood there, their presence alone enough to make the air in Tesra's lungs feel like it had been stolen. They weren't moving, not yet, but they didn't have to. Just standing there was enough to make the entire city descend into chaos.
Yammy, Yammy of all people, wasn't moving. He wasn't talking. He wasn't doing anything. The strongest of the Espada, the self-proclaimed warrior who prided himself on brute strength and savagery, was frozen.
"They're… they're in space," Tesra whispered, his voice barely functioning.
Yammy swallowed thickly. "They're bigger than mountains... Bigger than the fucking planet…"
Neither of them could move.
Neither of them could even think.
Because for the first time in their lives, they were staring at something so beyond them that even the idea of fighting it felt pointless.
And the worst part?
They weren't even looking at them.
They were looking for something else.
Something worse.
And Tesra suddenly had a horrible, sinking feeling.
Where the hell was Peter-Knull?
Yammy and Tesra stood dumbstruck, their minds struggling to process what they were witnessing. The Avengers were shouting orders, trying to coordinate a response, but none of it mattered.
Because it was already too late.
The Celestials, five massive, godlike beings, had only just begun their descent toward Earth, their colossal forms moving with slow, calculated inevitability. Entire cities were drowned in their shadows, their sheer presence warping the atmosphere itself.
And then…
It happened.
Without warning, the fabric of reality tore open.
From the depths of the void, massive chains, black as the abyss, lined with writhing eldritch runes, erupted from swirling black hole-like portals. They weren't just big. They weren't just heavy. They were the size of landmasses, monstrous constructs that defied logic, forged from something far more ancient and malevolent than anything in this universe.
And they moved.
Fast.
The chains snapped forward like predatory vipers, coiling around the Celestials' limbs, their necks, their torsos. The instant the chains made contact, the Celestials convulsed.
Their armor, impenetrable, divine, eternal, began to crack.
It wasn't just breaking.
It was rotting.
Deep, rust-like corruption spread across their bodies, eating away at their cosmic forms like a plague, causing the once-mighty Celestials to writhe in agony. The glow of their eyes and sigils flickered, sputtering like dying stars.
Yammy felt his legs lock up, a primal terror rooting him to the spot.
He had never seen anything like this. Nothing to this scale before.
And then, the final insult.
From the ground somewhere in the city a small black sliver that Yammy could guess was Peter-Knull's Necro-Sword, or Void-Fang as it's known, shot forward like a meteor.
It moved faster than light.
It hit the red Celestial square in the chest.
And then-.
It began to collapse.
Not explode. Not shatter. Collapse.
The massive cosmic being, bigger than the planet itself, started folding inward, crumbling as if the laws of physics had rejected its very existence.
The red Celestial let out a deep, soundless howl, a scream that carried across the cosmos without a voice, before its form imploded.
Gone.
And the others?
They were next.
The chains tightened with an ear-splitting, bone-rattling finality, dragging the remaining Celestials backward, pulling them into the void. They fought. They tried. But it was useless.
One by one, they were consumed.
And then-.
Silence.
The sky was empty again.
The universe had just watched the impossible happen.
Yammy's breath was ragged. His fists were clenched so tight he felt his nails dig into his skin.
Tesra's hands were shaking.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them could.
For the first time, Yammy knew he would never, ever surpass Peter-Knull.
Not now, not in a thousand years, not in a million.
Not ever.
…
Yammy, Tesra, and Logan stood outside the reinforced door, their eyes fixed on the glowing red warning signs plastered across the entrance to the Danger Room.
DO NOT ENTER
DANGER ROOM LEVEL: BEYOND MAXIMUM SETTINGS
SIMULATION RUN TIME: 3 HOURS 27 MINUTES
CURRENT PARTICIPANT: PETER-KNULL
The metallic walls trembled, subtle vibrations rippling through the ground beneath their feet. The alarms had long since stopped, overridden when Peter-Knull cranked the difficulty past anything remotely sane.
And he was still in there.
Yammy rubbed his face, staring at the display screens that showed absolute devastation. "This guy's got problems," he muttered.
Tesra crossed his arms, watching in silence. He had seen incredible battles before, fought beings beyond comprehension, but this… This was different. This wasn't training. It wasn't about improvement. This was something else entirely.
Logan, leaning against the wall with a scowl, wasn't saying anything. He knew exactly what this was. Peter-Knull had been pushed—by the Celestials, by the Living Tribunal, by the sheer audacity of reality itself trying to dictate his existence. And now? This was him venting.
Another tremor shook the walls as the simulation monitors flickered. Inside the Danger Room, Peter-Knull had just torn through an entire army of Hulks. Not one. An army.
Then came the Sentry. It barely lasted a minute.
Thanos appeared next, armored, the Infinity Gauntlet gleaming in the artificial light.
Peter-Knull scoffed. Five minutes later, the Mad Titan was nothing but a pile of digital debris.
He wasn't tired. He wasn't even slowing down. If anything, he was still bored.
"Still missing something," Peter-Knull muttered, rolling his shoulders before pushing the simulator even further. The system stuttered, struggling to keep up with his demands as the environment around him shifted.
The walls darkened, twisted, and bent. The air grew thick, humming with malice.
Then the shadows took shape, and from the depths of the simulation, Mephisto emerged.
Not some weakened version, not a watered-down copy, but the most accurate representation the AI could create. The demon king stood before him, grinning with sharp, jagged teeth, his entire form exuding power so immense that the simulation began glitching just to hold him together.
Peter-Knull grinned. Finally.
Outside, Yammy and Tesra exchanged a look, watching the screens in stunned silence.
"He's actually fighting the devil now," Tesra muttered.
Yammy blinked, then shook his head. "We should never piss him off."
Logan exhaled, finally pushing off the wall, his jaw set as he looked toward the room. "You're just figuring that out now?"
The three of them turned back toward the reinforced door. None of them dared to step inside. None of them dared to interrupt.
Whatever Peter-Knull was doing in there… they sure as hell weren't going to stop him.
…
Captain Amagai stood on the high-rise balcony of the Avengers' cyberpunk-inspired headquarters, the neon-lit skyline stretching before him. The air still felt charged, as if remnants of the cosmic battle still clung to reality itself. He had spent a while now in Soul Society, dealing with political upheavals, Hollow purges, and even the odd multiversal anomaly, but what had transpired today? This was beyond anything he could have ever imagined.
With a measured breath, he reached into his sleeve and released a modified Hell Butterfly, its dark wings pulsing with faint symbiotic traces, allowing it to traverse through the modified Senkaimon, the interdimensional gateway that bridged realities. This one had been enhanced for long-distance multiversal communication, ensuring that his message would reach Soul Society without interference.
His voice was calm but laced with urgency. "This is Captain Amagai reporting from Earth-CY-2990, updating Soul Society on recent developments. The diplomatic meetings between our forces, Earth-616, and this Earth's Avengers are progressing as expected. However, we have encountered something… unprecedented."
He took a steadying breath, his gaze drifting to the ground below, where technicians and operatives were still assessing the damage left in the wake of the Celestial incursion.
"First, we have confirmed the existence of a new variant of Knull, whom we have designated 'Machine-Knull.' This entity is unlike previous Knull variants encountered by our allies. Unlike the organic void-spawned Knulls, this one appears to be entirely synthetic in nature. His symbiotes are not biological, but mechanical in origin. This raises several concerns regarding potential infiltration methods, as his creations utilize code-based DNA structures."
Amagai turned, watching as S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives secured pieces of the destroyed machine symbiotes, their glowing circuits still faintly flickering. A few were being boxed up for further analysis, but Amagai felt an unease about that.
"We must ensure that none of our technology is compromised should we attempt to retrieve a sample. Machine-Knull could be capable of remote influence, much like how standard symbiotes can influence their hosts. I strongly recommend double-checking all technological systems within Soul Society and implementing safeguards before initiating any research."
He adjusted the Hell Butterfly's frequency slightly before continuing.
"Second, I must inform you all of what transpired earlier today. This world suffered what can only be described as a near-cataclysm. Five Celestial-level beings, each the size of entire planets, attempted to enforce some manner of judgment upon this reality."
The words felt surreal as he spoke them. It wasn't every day one had to explain how five world-sized gods were erased in an instant.
"Peter-Knull intervened."
There was a long pause as Amagai collected his thoughts, struggling to fully articulate what he had witnessed.
"I don't know how else to put this, but he utterly obliterated them."
The butterfly's wings pulsed, recording his words as he continued.
"These beings, which dwarfed everything in their presence, were shackled by what I can only describe as eldritch chains the size of continents. Their very bodies corroded as if some ancient force was rotting them from within. Then, with a mere utterance, Peter-Knull cast them into some kind of abyss… and to add final insult, he used his blade to tear open a rift that crushed their leader from the inside out."
Amagai ran a hand through his hair, still struggling to process what he had seen. "They're gone. All of them. In less than a minute."
He let that sink in before finishing the report.
"I need to emphasize the gravity of this. We've seen Peter-Knull fight before, but this was different. He didn't struggle. He didn't hesitate. He merely acted—and five celestial entities ceased to exist. Whatever power he holds, it is beyond what any of us can fathom. I highly advise Soul Society take this into consideration moving forward. He is an ally… but I now fully understand why he has been reluctant to engage at full capacity."
He took a breath, steadying himself before adding his final note.
"If we encounter another Knull variant, especially one aligned with Aizen, I strongly recommend we escalate our response accordingly. This is no longer just a battle of Soul Reapers, Hollows, or humans… this is a war of existence itself."
With that, he lifted his hand, letting the Hell Butterfly flutter upward toward the Senkaimon, carrying his message across dimensions.
…
Elsewhere in the Cyberpunk City…
Beneath the neon lights and the hum of the sprawling metropolis, deep within the shadows of a forbidden marketplace, an ominous figure moved through the industrial tunnels. It was not human, not ever human. Metal plates shifted seamlessly over a black symbiotic mesh, giving it the appearance of something both alive and manufactured. The figure's red mechanical eyes scanned the darkened corridors of the black-market sector, taking in the waiting criminals, mercenaries, and one very familiar killer standing in the center of it all.
Machine-Knull had arrived.
The hushed whispers of traders and scavengers stopped as the heavy, mechanical footsteps echoed through the chamber. He stood tall, his silver and black plating gleaming under the low artificial lights, his claws clicking together as his glowing eyes settled on the one man grinning at him through razor-sharp teeth.
Cletus Kasady.
Or rather, what was left of this world's Kasady. He was no longer Carnage, nor was he entirely human anymore. His red-and-black synthetic limbs twitched with metallic movement, the Machine-Knull symbiote laced through his body like a metal exoskeleton, enhancing his already psychotic durability. His new form shimmered with metallic sheen, a fusion of Carnage's biomass and machine symbiotics, and yet, his madness remained intact.
He stepped forward, flexing his clawed metal fingers, a sickening smile curling across his face.
"'Bout damn time you got here," Kasady sneered, his voice a mixture of human tones and distorted mechanical static. "I been waitin' to get another shot at that bastard for a while." He licked his jagged, metallic teeth. "This time, no tricks. No runnin'. No savin' the day. We kill him."
Machine-Knull gave him a slow, calculated stare before responding. "Not yet."
Kasady bristled at the delay, but Machine-Knull ignored his frustration, turning his attention to the assembled black-market dealers, smugglers, and underground mercenaries gathered in the chamber.
Stacked behind them were crates of alien weaponry, stolen Asgardian relics, and even forbidden texts bearing eldritch symbols, artifacts and knowledge far older than this reality. Machine-Knull moved forward, his clawed fingers tracing the runes carved into a shattered Asgardian stone slab.
"These pieces are not as unique as some others. ," Machine-Knull stated in a cold, mechanical rasp, "but they are vital to what comes next." His eyes flickered as he turned to one of the dealers. "And Aizen will reward you handsomely for your… cooperation."
A few of the criminals exchanged uneasy glances, not knowing what was more unnerving—the fact that this machine-creature spoke of Aizen as if they were equals, or the fact that every time Machine-Knull moved, the machinery around them seemed to pulse—as if it recognized him.
One of the smugglers, a cybernetically enhanced humanoid with a stolen Kree arm, stepped forward cautiously. "And what exactly do you plan to do with all this?" His voice wavered slightly.
Machine-Knull turned his emotionless, red-lit gaze to him. "Prepare."
Kasady cracked his metallic knuckles, eager for carnage. "Yeah, yeah, prep all ya want. I just wanna know when we're killin' 'im." His grin widened. "Been too long since I had me some fun."
Machine-Knull finally turned back to Kasady, his gaze unreadable. "Soon. But first..." He lifted his hand, and as he did, several sleek, metallic symbiotes slithered out from the shadows, their liquid-metal bodies shifting as they latched onto several of the criminals, coating them in armor-like symbiotic plating.
The first of his army.
Kasady shuddered with exhilaration as the symbiote tendrils wrapped around him again, reinforcing his already monstrous cybernetic form.
Machine-Knull turned toward the towering gates of the underground city, where the stolen artifacts, mutant DNA samples, and forbidden knowledge were stored.
"Once these reach Aizen's hands," he murmured, "Peter-Knull will no longer be the only god to fear."
The chamber darkened, the glow of Machine-Knull's red optics the only source of light. As the cybernetic symbiotes slithered over their hosts, integrating with their bodies, Kasady's distorted laughter echoed.
This was going to be fun…