"That's certainly interesting," Logan mused, his gaze fixed on Kitty and Kurt. "But what I'm more curious about is whether we can return our colleagues to their universe."
My eyes moved to Ororo Munroe, Kitty Pryde, and Kurt Wagner. Kitty, her face half-shadowed, looked more like a lost soul than a girl; Kurt stared at us with a wild, almost animalistic wariness, his usual humanity hidden under a layer of magically scarred skin.
"I'm confident we can solve that problem without much difficulty," I began, trying to sound assured despite my internal unease. "However, we have a more urgent matter at hand right now."
Wolverine raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp and questioning.
"First and foremost, we need to heal Kitty and Kurt, and of course, await my teacher's arrival," I continued, noting every detail of their condition, trying to anticipate what resources would be needed for their recovery.
Ororo Munroe, hearing my words, looked at me with hope in her eyes:
"Dr. Richards, can you help my students?"
Her voice trembled slightly, reflecting the depth of her concern; returning to their universe was not her top priority.
"Are you familiar with my counterpart in your world?" I smiled, noticing the confidence in her gaze.
Ororo nodded:
"Dr. Reed Richards is known in our universe as one of the greatest minds, particularly for his work in space programs."
"Hah," I chuckled, noting the irony. "It seems some things are indeed universal. But don't worry, I will help your students. I've had the fortune of studying the mystical arts under the Ancient One."
Her face lit up with relief, and I felt my own anxiety give way to a determined resolve to help.
As soon as I sensed the familiar vibration in the air, my eyes instantly turned towards the forming portal. The luminous swirls of Yao's portal began to glow brightly, drawing the attention of everyone present.
"There he is," I said, watching as Yao stepped through the shimmering gateway, his attire sparkling with residual magic from the transition. He was an imposing figure, and not someone you encounter every day.
"Hello, Reed," he said with a smile, approaching me.
"Hello, Yao. Glad to see you," I replied, trying to hide my relief.
---= Some Time Later =---
Thanks to Yao's help, we quickly managed to address the issues with Kurt Wagner and Kitty Pryde.
However, Illyana's problem was more severe, as it involved her very soul, requiring a more delicate approach.
"Hmm, young lady, you have two paths before you," Yao began, his voice calm but each word carrying the weight of eternity.
Piotr's younger sister looked at Yao, her eyes burning with determination:
"What are my options?"
The mage's smile was genuine, but it carried the weight of the difficult choice ahead of Illyana.
"We can restore the integrity of your soul," Yao continued, pointing to one of the glowing symbols that shimmered in the air like stars. "But this will sever your connection to Limbo."
He paused, giving Illyana time to consider, before presenting the second option.
"Or we can strengthen your bond with Limbo through this blade," Yao nodded towards the weapon lying before her. "The choice is yours."
Illyana slowly lifted the blade, weighing it in her hand. The reflection of the sunset danced on its edge, as if in flames. Her eyes, fixed on the blade, studied every detail, and I saw thoughts racing through her mind, weighing each possible outcome.
Her decision was clear even before she voiced it. Illyana was a warrior by name and by nature. Retreat was not in her vocabulary, and the choice she made showed she was ready to see it through, no matter where it led.
"I choose the bond with Limbo," she said firmly, the fire of determination flickering in her eyes. "Let this blade be my guide."
Yao nodded, acknowledging her choice, and the magical symbols around began to spin faster, gathering around the blade, preparing for the ritual that would change her life forever.
Piotr Rasputin sighed heavily.
"Then let's begin."
---= Some Time Later =---
When Yao completed the ritual with Illyana, we finally found a moment to speak privately. The air around us was thick with magical energy, slowly dissipating after his powerful spells.
"I assume," I began, looking deeply at him, "that you not only saved the girl but also gained something for yourself?"
Yao smiled, his eyes sparkling with skill and mystery:
"Two birds with one stone, as they say."
"What did you gain in addition?" My curiosity flared, knowing Yao rarely acted without a hidden agenda.
"Apart from giving our universe a new heroine," he continued enigmatically, "we now have a remarkably direct access to Limbo."
"Aren't there enough places for the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj to explore?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
Yao's smile widened, his teeth gleaming in the dim light:
"Having more options is always better than having few. Limbo opens up new perspectives, and every additional route could prove critical."
---= Ten Minutes Later =---
When Yao finished his business with Illyana, he stepped through the shimmering portal once more, which closed instantly behind him, leaving only a faint breeze filled with the scent of ancient magic.
At that time, I was engrossed in studying the alternate X-Men. My task was to find their home universe among the countless streams of the Multiverse—a task that turned out to be far more complex than I had anticipated. Genetic analysis showed that their DNA was almost identical to that of our Ororo, Kurt, and Kitty. This was both surprising and complicating: I needed to find a different, more unique marker that could accurately indicate their origin.
With each hour spent scanning, it became clear that simple genetic analysis was insufficient. I needed to delve deeper into the very essence of the multiversal laws that could lead to the discovery of their world.
Standing at the control panel of my lab, I sifted through various theories and methods, each time getting closer to the solution. The vision of countless worlds blending into one ocean of possibilities required not only knowledge but also intuition.
"We need something else, something that will be the key to their world," I thought, contemplating the next steps.
As my instruments scanned the latest set of data, something unusual happened. The screens flickered, and the energy analyzers buzzed until they revealed a unique energy signature, distinctly different from anything we had seen before in our universe. This trace was subtle but definitive—a beacon in the dark ocean.
"Fundamental constants of the universe..." I whispered almost inaudibly, nearly to myself. This discovery was a true breakthrough. Each universe has its unique fundamental constants, like fingerprints, unique and unrepeatable. These "numbers" determine the physical properties of the universe: the strength of gravity, the speed of light, the charge of an electron.
And these very "numbers" created their inhabitants... differently. And being in Limbo, which is a crossroads in the Multiverse, gave me a much better understanding of this.
After identifying their home world, I immediately began working on the portal. Having experience in creating portals, making the necessary one was only a matter of time, which I also resolved.
And now, before Ororo, Kitty, and Kurt, stood a portal to their universe.
The farewell was quite emotional. Illyana had grown attached to Ororo and Kitty, as they had raised her in this very world.
"We will definitely meet again," said Ororo.
"Exactly!" Kitty said firmly. "Besides, if anything, you can always turn to Reed Richards."
Illyana Rasputin gave a short nod and, after hugging her "parents," let them go.
The adults simply nodded in gratitude.
"Now that this is done, I think it's time to go home," I said.
"I'm also tired of this Divine Comedy," Sue whispered.
---= New York =---
Peter Parker wasn't the luckiest person in this world, but he didn't expect it to be this bad!
BAM
A fireball flew past his head from a green monster.
"...KILL..."
"Man, you're as creepy as a goblin!" Spider-Man exclaimed just a moment before something exploded nearby.
—\\—
"Returning to our universe, a light breeze of autumn air greeted us at the entrance of the lab where Hank and Charles were waiting. Hank seemed to be there to ensure the portal remained stable, while Charles, with worry in his eyes, had been anxious about us the entire time.
"Welcome back," said Charles, his voice filled with relief and weary joy.
Judging by the readings from my devices, he had communicated with the X-Men and thus wasn't surprised to see Illyana looking so mature.
"Thank you for the support," I replied, smiling through my exhaustion. "This trip was truly exhilarating."
"Who would have thought I'd be taking a stroll through Hell at my age," Johnny said, stretching and grinning playfully.
Johnny's words elicited laughter, and for a moment, the hardships of our journey faded, replaced by a warm, homely atmosphere and a sense of gratitude for being together again.
"By the way, Professor Xavier..." I began, but didn't finish.
"Just call me Charles," Xavier interrupted gently, his voice carrying warm sincerity. "Considering everything you've done for us, it's the least I can do."
"In that case, please call me Reed," I responded.
---= Ten Minutes Later =---
What do heroes do after a successful mission? Of course, they throw a celebration.
The light from the stars and twinkling fairy lights created a magical atmosphere in our backyard, where we decided to celebrate our victory. Despite our relatively young team, the energy and unrestrained joy never left us.
"So, you're saying you found their universe based solely on this data?" Hank asked, disbelief and amazement evident in his voice as he stared at the flickering monitors.
I nodded, not hiding my satisfaction, and smiled, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through me from the excitement of the discovery.
"Yes, Hank," I said, moving closer to the screen displaying numbers and graphs. "After running numerous simulations and comparing various cosmic parameters, I finally managed to pinpoint the coordinates of their universe in this vast multiversal ocean."
Hank was silent for a moment, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and admiration.
"That's truly impressive, Reed," he finally acknowledged. "You've outdone yourself."
I was about to say more when an alert from our monitoring system grabbed my attention: Peter Parker had sustained severe, potentially critical injuries.
"What the...?" I thought, feeling my heart skip a beat in shock.
But there was no time for doubt or hesitation. I needed to act immediately.
I quickly scanned my team. They all looked exhausted, their strength nearly spent, and this forced me to make the only viable decision.
"I'll go alone," I resolved, feeling determination fill every fiber of my being. They needed rest, and I had to help Peter.
"Reed?" Susan's concerned voice reached me.
She was looking at me with evident worry. I smiled softly, trying to reassure her.
"I have an important task to finish," I replied.
Her expression grew more anxious, and she gazed intently into my eyes.
"What exactly are you going to do?"
I was faced with a choice: to tell the truth, evade, or outright lie. But I chose honesty.
"I need to help a brave young man," I said slowly. "It might be dangerous, but if I don't intervene, he could die."
Susan opened her mouth to argue, but I raised my hand to stop her.
"You and the others are in no condition to join this fight. It's too risky for you," I said firmly, meeting her gaze filled with worry and care.
Susan nodded, and in her eyes, I saw a deep understanding of the danger looming not only over Peter but the entire city. Her look was full of concern but also faith. I hugged her gently, trying to convey my confidence through this simple gesture.
"Don't worry, it won't take long," I said, hoping to reassure her.
Susan nodded again, and I felt her silent support in that gesture.
Activating the teleportation device, I instantly found myself in the headquarters of the Fantastic Four. The surroundings changed in a fraction of a second, and I stepped onto the cold metal floor, heading straight for the main control panel to gather information on the current situation.
On the streets of New York, a real battle was unfolding. Norman Osborn, having lost control and transformed into the Green Goblin, was in a full-blown rage. I watched on the screens as his massive form smashed Peter Parker into the pavement.
Every strike from the Goblin sent shockwaves rippling hundreds of meters around. The surrounding area was devastated, store signs and nearby building windows shattered from the force of his blows. Norman, consumed by his frenzied anger, paid no heed to the destruction he caused.
Spider-Man seemed to have lost his usual agility and speed. He tried to dodge, but each new blow from the Goblin struck him with relentless force, and Peter seemed too weak to fight back.
Realizing that every second counted, I took a deep breath and focused on the upcoming confrontation. There was no time to waste—I needed to act, and I knew that with each passing moment, Peter's chances of survival were rapidly diminishing.
"Cronos, activate the Anti-Goblin program," I commanded.
I had specific plans against Norman, including a serum that should calm this monster down.
"Ready, Dr. Richards," my assistant replied.
At that moment, an ampoule appeared before me, designed to neutralize the OZ's influence on Norman's system.
I grabbed the ampoule and took off.
---= Peter Parker =---
Spider-Man, with a heavy heart, could confidently say this day had become one of the worst in his life. And the lack of burritos at the nearest stand before starting his shift was just a small part of the problems. But real trouble was brewing, and his spider-sense screamed, warning of the imminent danger.
As soon as his sensors went off, Peter instinctively raised his arms, taking a defensive stance. He barely managed to brace himself when the Goblin's powerful blow crashed down on him.
BAM
A searing pain shot through his arms, and he felt his bones creak under the force of the impact. Trying to parry the Goblin's relentless blows was a desperate but clearly ineffective strategy. Each subsequent strike was filled not only with physical power but also with the Green Goblin's sinister determination to destroy his foe.
Sharp flashes of pain pierced his body, but Peter gritted his teeth, trying to muster the strength to continue fighting.
"...Kill..." Peter heard the muttering before his spider-sense screamed louder than ever.
The Goblin raised his monstrous fists for the final blow.
BAM
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Peter raised his arms solely through sheer willpower. He braced himself for the expected agony, but to his surprise, the pain never came.
For a split second, he held his breath, trying to comprehend what was happening. His mind slowly registered the absence of the menacing shadow of the Green Goblin looming over him.
"Spidey, you sure know how to get yourself into trouble," came the familiar voice of Reed Richards.
At first, Parker thought his senses were deceiving him, but as the trembling in his body subsided and the world around him stabilized, he saw who stood before him. Reed Richards hovered in the air against the city skyline, with a remarkably designed weapon levitating behind him—clearly his own creation.
Parker traced his gaze to the opposite direction from Richards.
The Green Goblin was in a dire state. The impact had struck his abdomen. The scaly skin, which had withstood Parker's full-force punches, was now cracked, indicating the immense power behind the blow.
"What the...?" Parker wondered as he noticed that the impact site began to crumble...
"Surprised?" Reed Richards asked, drawing Parker's attention back to him.
---= Reed Richards =---
The Super Soldier Serum—an enduring legacy of Dr. Erskine—became the focal point of an insatiable scientific race. In Universe 1610, this substance had caused numerous calamities, enabling those who sought power without responsibility.
In my universe, the repercussions of serum experiments were equally catastrophic. Norman Osborn, possessing resources and ambition but lacking rational restraint, decided to test a new formula on himself. Unlike my methodical and cautious research, his actions resembled a bull rampaging through a china shop.
Osborn turned himself into a dubious experiment. His recklessness resulted in him becoming a monster instead of a hero like Steve Rogers, terrorizing New York's streets as the Green Goblin, leaving behind destruction and chaos.
Osborn's recklessness allowed me to develop a weapon ideally suited for neutralizing his mutated form. The Goblin's genetic structure was extremely unstable, enabling my device to work effectively.
"Yeah..." Peter murmured, watching the Goblin shrink in size. "Is he going to be okay?"
"He's reverting to his pre-mutation form," I replied.
"I can see your next question forming," I smiled, anticipating his barrage of questions. "But first, let's make sure you're safe."
"But I feel fine!" Parker protested, attempting to stand, but quickly collapsing back to his knees.
"Fine?" I raised an eyebrow, watching his struggle to maintain balance.
"...Alright, you're right," Parker admitted.
Judging by his expression, he accepted his condition with relative ease.
I began examining the data from Parker's suit. The readings were... disheartening. Despite his enhanced abilities and impressive regenerative power, his recovery without assistance would be a lengthy and exhausting process.
At this moment, it was clear that adjustments to the suit's software were necessary to accelerate his healing. Delving into the deepest levels of the suit's code, I implemented updates and algorithms designed for emergencies. These were modifications I hadn't anticipated needing—I had sincerely hoped Spidey wouldn't encounter an adversary capable of injuring him so severely.
As I scanned the lines of code, I noted that Parker hadn't wasted any time, striving to explore the depths of his software.
I sighed and added a new directive to the complex array of commands. Instantly, the suit's systems sprang into action: broken limbs were stabilized, and bruises began to heal thanks to a swarm of microscopic robots working in unison with Parker's unique regenerative abilities.
"Try standing now," I suggested to Parker, who had fallen silent for a few minutes.
All this time, Peter's eyes remained fixed on the retreating form of the Goblin. The green tint of his skin had nearly vanished, leaving behind only pale traces of the previous frenzy of color.
"Surprisingly, it feels much better," Parker said, standing confidently.
At that moment, the Green Goblin faded from view, leaving behind the unconscious body of Norman Osborn.
"Mr. Osborn?" Parker whispered, his voice trembling with shock, his eyes widening beneath his mask.
"How well do you know him, Parker?" I asked, observing his reaction, trying to read the thoughts hidden behind his impassive expression.
Spider-Man froze for a moment, his shoulders twitching slightly. He was clearly stunned and confused by this turn of events.
"Very well..." he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "But it doesn't matter now."
I nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the moment, and added:
"It truly doesn't matter anymore. Focus on what's next, Parker."
He seemed ready to argue, but I pointed toward the street, where distinctive vehicles had already cordoned off the area.
"We need to act. Time is running out, Parker. We have to address the aftermath," I said, emphasizing the urgency of our next steps.
From the black, beast-like vehicles, SHIELD agents emerged, the clanging of doors closing behind them. Among them, standing out with authority, was the operation leader.
Agent Phil Coulson slowly surveyed the destruction—the signs of the battle between Parker and the Goblin that had marred the street and building facades. Then his gaze settled on us, a mix of respect and concern in his eyes.
"Hello, Dr. Richards, Spider-Man," he said with a slight smile.
"It's been a while, Agent Coulson," I replied dryly, closely watching his reaction.
Coulson merely smirked in response, while Parker managed only a brief nod, adding, "Hello."
"As I understand," I began, glancing at Osborn's unconscious body lying nearby under the watch of other agents, "Mr. Osborn will be spending several long years in prison?"
The words hung in the air, adding weight to the already tense atmosphere. Coulson nodded, his gaze firm and unyielding.
"He will answer for all his crimes," he confirmed. "SHIELD guarantees it."
—\\—
SHIELD agents cautiously approached Norman Osborn's body, lying on the shattered asphalt, to check his condition. They were professionals, adept at handling such crises.
"Dr. Richards, I understand you created the substance to counteract Osborn's transformation?" Coulson asked, studying my reaction closely.
"You could say that," I nodded.
At that moment, Coulson's men, having confirmed that Osborn was in a relatively stable state, cuffed him. The collar around his neck looked almost identical to the one used on Namor.
"Will he stand trial?" my question caught Coulson off guard, causing him to freeze momentarily and force a smile.
"I see," I said coldly, sensing the tension in the air. Coulson's demeanor spoke volumes more than words.
Coulson sighed heavily, "We can't avoid a trial, Dr. Richards. It's impossible."
He then glanced around the area and added, "The battle between Spider-Man and the Green Goblin wasn't something that went unnoticed. Spectators used their mobile phones to capture the fight... Many people witnessed Mr. Osborn's transformation back to his human form."
It made sense, but it also meant that Norman might evade some consequences for his actions.
Coulson seemed to notice my concern, quickly adding, "Don't worry, Dr. Richards. He won't be able to simply buy his way out of this."
"I hope so," I replied, watching the agents load Norman into a vehicle.
Coulson looked around, confirming his subordinates had completed their task, and said confidently, "Rest assured, Dr. Richards. Osborn will face justice."
Coulson's statements were resolute as he prepared to leave. My experience told me that trials in this world could be unpredictable, especially when influential figures were involved.
"Now that this is resolved, it's time to take care of you," I said, turning to Parker.
"Huh?" Parker was surprised, but before he could respond, we had already left the battleground via teleportation. "Teleportation? Why am I still surprised by this?"
We arrived at the Baxter Building, where I could help him recover.
"Follow me," I said, heading to the lab.
Peter followed without protest. In the lab, I directed him to the scanning platform.
"Stand here," I instructed.
Once Spider-Man stood on the platform, the scanning process began. Though I trusted the suit's data, this process was necessary for me to focus on other issues, diverting my mind from Osborn's case.
Moments later, a complete readout of Parker's condition appeared on my screen.
"Chronos, initiate catalyst creation," I ordered the system, preparing for the next phase of Parker's recovery.
---= Some Time Later =---
With the necessary compounds integrated into Parker's body, his recovery commenced at a remarkable pace. According to my calculations, he should fully recover within three days.
"Reed," Susan began firmly, her voice tinged with hidden concern.
I knew my actions might not sit well with my friends, especially after they had exhausted their strength in Limbo.
"I explained everything, but perhaps not as convincingly as I should have," I admitted. Susan and the others looked fatigued, their faces strained.
"Sue, you were all worn out, and Peter's life was in danger," I continued, trying to justify my decisions.
Their reactions were reserved, but I sensed they were beginning to understand my reasons. After all, our friend's life was at stake.
---= The Next Day =---
News of Norman Osborn's upcoming trial quickly captured the public's attention across the United States. The internet buzzed with discussions, and the news spread rapidly through Western media.
"The trial of Norman Osborn is set for June 15," announced the news anchor on one of the main channels.
"Well..." Johnny mused, switching the TV off. "What made this tycoon leave his cozy tower and get involved in such matters?"
"Who knows with these rich folks," Ben shrugged.
My phone suddenly vibrated, breaking the silence in the room. I pulled it out, my eyes widening at the message on the screen.
"Well, I'll be..." I muttered, surprising everyone with my tone.
My sudden exclamation caught everyone's attention, and they looked at me questioningly.
"What happened?" Sue asked, voicing the collective sense of unease.
"I've been called to testify at Osborn's trial," I replied.
Everyone in the room knew my attitude toward such matters—it always seemed like a waste of time to me.
"I know that look," Sue said with a slight smile. "Tell us what you're thinking."
"Well..." I smiled back, acknowledging how well she knew me. "I've never been a fan of these proceedings," I began, feeling the tension rise. "Everyone knows Osborn will try to drag this out as long as possible. He'll use every opportunity to paint black as white and vice versa, all to manipulate public opinion."
"And he'll skillfully use this time to rewrite the narrative in his favor," I continued, seeing my own concerns reflected in Sue's eyes. "That's what makes these processes so tedious for those seeking the truth."
"You don't believe this trial will end the way you want it to," Sue stated.
I nodded.
"It will likely come down to a compromise, given public opinion."
---= Norman Osborn =---
Norman Osborn had never felt so weak...
"Has he?" a voice echoed in Norman's head.
Never had he felt so powerless. After raising the company inherited from his feeble father to its current standing, Norman had believed himself stronger than ever before.
"Hahaha, oh Normie, don't pretend I'm not here," the same terrifying voice echoed again.
He tried to distance himself from the voice, to convince himself it was just his imagination...
"Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you!" the voice almost snarled.
The voice was so horrifying that Osborn couldn't resist its pressure. He lifted his eyes for a moment... In the darkness, he saw two yellow dots.
"That's right," the Goblin said. "Normie knows who's in charge here, doesn't he?"
"You're not here..." Norman whispered. "You're not here. You're not here. You're not here."
"Oh, you're hurting my feelings, Normie," the Goblin replied, his terrifying voice devoid of any remorse or hurt. "I've always been with you."
How long had the Goblin been there? Since the day he injected himself with the OZ serum? No, he had appeared much earlier, from the moment his father left him alone in the dark... In that old house where his father had tried to rid Norman of fear...
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