Tony Stark ultimately joined the mission to destroy the Cancerverse Earth.
That was just how he operated.
He'd claim selfishness, insist he wouldn't volunteer, make a show of protecting his own interests. But when the moment arrived, when lives hung in the balance, his actions told a different story entirely.
"I'm worried you people won't be able to go through with it," he said stubbornly, adjusting his armor's gauntlets with unnecessary force. "Look at who's leading this operation. A saintly super-soldier who probably still believes in the inherent goodness of humanity. You really think Captain America can bring himself to activate a weapon that kills billions of civilians?"
Steve Rogers stood nearby, his expression carefully neutral. He didn't rise to the bait.
Tony continued, his voice taking on a defensive edge that everyone recognized as his tell for genuine emotional investment.
"Someone has to do the dirty work. Someone has to make the hard calls without flinching. That's what I'm good at—being the villain when heroism requires it."
He tapped his arc reactor, the gesture almost compulsive.
"So I'll go. I'll arm the device. I'll press the button if it comes to that. And I'll live with the nightmares afterward so the rest of you don't have to."
The declaration hung in the air, equal parts bravado and genuine courage.
Considering there might be significant enemy forces remaining in the Cancerverse despite the bulk of their fleet being trapped, the strike team couldn't afford to be weak.
Besides Tony and Steve, Ben had gathered an impressive roster of powerful Plumbers from various installations across the galaxy.
First was Beta Ray Bill—referred to among the Plumbers by his old gladiatorial title: Behemoth.
His strength was beyond question. The Korbinite warrior had proven himself in countless battles, wielding his cosmic war-hammer with devastating precision. Enhanced further by the Mana channeling system Ben had created, Bill now operated at near-Thor levels of power.
Next came Carol Danvers—Captain Marvel herself.
The cosmic-powered hero had been serving as a listed Plumber member since Ben's recruitment during the Galactic Federation summit. Her photonic abilities and raw durability made her ideal for operations in hostile dimensional environments.
Then there were Wanda Maximoff and Eunice
Wanda had grown tremendously in control over her Chaos Magic since joining the Plumbers. Her reality-warping abilities, while still unpredictable, could prove decisive if the situation required unconventional solutions.
Eunice—with the Mind Stone embedded in her vibranium forehead—represented Ben's most advanced creation. Her synthesized body combined the best of organic and mechanical engineering, granting her strength, phasing abilities, and energy projection that rivaled Vision's capabilities in the original timeline.
Finally, several centurions from the Nova Corps rounded out the team.
These veteran soldiers brought discipline, tactical coordination, and access to the Nova Force—the collective energy pool that powered their corps. While individually less powerful than the heavy hitters, their coordinated assault capabilities added crucial versatility.
The reason for drawing manpower from space installations rather than Earth-based forces was simple: the planet was currently overwhelmed.
The mutant awakening crisis continued escalating. New manifestations occurred hourly. Ben himself was deeply invested in deciphering the X-gene's activation mechanism, attempting to develop predictive markers that would identify potential mutants before their powers erupted catastrophically.
If successful, the technology would dramatically reduce civilian casualties.
Compared to that critical research, this advance strike against a doomed universe represented a relatively minor priority—unpleasant but necessary, like cleaning out an infected wound.
The Null Void RealmPrison Dimension
Meanwhile, inside the dimensional prison, Mar-Vell and his forces had discovered their predicament but weren't particularly concerned.
The corrupted Captain Marvel stood at the command center of his flagship, purple tongues tasting the stale air with irritating confidence.
"What's there to be afraid of?" he asked rhetorically, addressing the assembled Revengers. "It's merely a dimensional pocket. A prison space. There's always a method to escape such places."
He gestured expansively, cosmic energy crackling around his tumor-covered hands.
"We successfully opened breaches in the cosmic barrier between universes. Why should we be incapable of penetrating a simple pocket dimension's walls?"
His tone carried absolute certainty, the messianic conviction that had led him to murder Death itself.
Mad Ben prowled the edges of the command chamber, examining the viewscreens with curious intensity.
"This is the legendary Null Void?" he asked, surprisingly engaged despite his usual aggressive disinterest in details. "My first time visiting. It looks almost identical to the resource-depleted wasteland Earth from my home universe."
The barren red landscape, floating debris, crimson sky—it all matched the apocalyptic hellscape he'd grown up fighting through.
"It's not that simple," Bad Ben interjected, his analytical mind already working through the problem.
Unlike his more impulsive counterpart, Bad Ben had immediately begun scanning the dimensional barriers, analyzing their composition and structure with the sophisticated sensors his Omnitrix provided.
"If this were just an ordinary Null Void, I could easily construct a projector device and force our way out," he explained, pulling up holographic data streams. "I've done it before in my own universe."
His expression turned grim as the analysis results populated.
"But the spatial technology here is fundamentally different from the Plumbers standard dimensional engineering in my reality. The mathematical principles underlying the containment field don't match anything in my database."
He highlighted sections of the data, showing incompatible energy signatures.
"Moreover, I've completed preliminary scans of the dimensional walls. Their structural integrity is comparable to the cosmic barrier itself—the fundamental membrane separating entire universes."
Bad Ben shook his head slowly.
"An ordinary Null Void projector won't work here. The technology is too alien, too sophisticated. This isn't just a prison—it's a masterpiece of multidimensional engineering."
What Bad Ben couldn't know—what the sensors couldn't fully reveal—was the true complexity of the Null Void's construction.
When Ben Parker had created this prison dimension, he hadn't relied on a single power source or technological framework. Instead, he'd woven together countless different systems and energies into something unprecedented.
The dimensional barriers incorporated energy matrices from the Space Stone, providing fundamental stability. The Phantom Zone technology from DC Universe Kryptonians contributed its unique properties of temporal stasis. Fragments of the Nine Realms' destroyed dimensions had been integrated into the structure.
Heaven's angelic architecture provided one layer. The cold darkness of Jotunheim infused another. The volcanic heat of Muspelheim created environmental variation. The death-touched energies from the two Underworlds permeated everything.
And all of it existed at the deepest level of the World Tree's root system—the dimensional framework that Ben's Genesis dimension was slowly growing to replace.
Too many fundamental forces mixed together in this space, creating a dimensional topology that was extraordinarily stable and resistant to conventional escape methods.
If prisoners could simply break out, it wouldn't deserve to be called a maximum security facility.
"Why worry about such complications?" Mar-Vell dismissed Bad Ben's concerns with a wave. "We'll simply blast through the dimensional barrier with raw power. Overwhelming force solves most problems."
He turned to his corrupted counterpart.
"Anthony, activate the primary weapons. Target the weakest point in the spatial membrane and prepare for sustained bombardment."
"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Anthony Stark said, his voice tight with sudden tension.
The purple discoloration across his face deepened as he stared at the tactical displays, his arc reactor pulsing faster with stress.
"We're surrounded."
"What?" Mar-Vell whirled toward the viewscreens, cosmic awareness finally detecting what his overconfidence had caused him to miss.
The fleet was completely encircled.
All around them, across the barren red landscape and floating through the crimson sky, terrifying creatures had assembled in numbers that defied counting.
Massive, eyeless quadrupeds with armored carapaces stood in silent ranks across the desert floor. Their bodies radiated heat, suggesting internal furnaces that could incinerate anything they touched.
Blood-red bat-like creatures hovered in the murky atmosphere, wings spanning dozens of meters. Their mouths opened impossibly wide, revealing concentric rings of teeth designed for tearing through even the most durable materials.
Two-headed serpent-dinosaur hybrids prowled between rock formations, each head tracking different targets with disturbing intelligence. Spikes protruded from their spines, dripping with venomous secretions.
The variety exceeded anything Mar-Vell had encountered in his conquest of his own universe.
But Mad Ben and Bad Ben's expressions transformed immediately to recognition and alarm.
"That's a Crabdozer," Mad Ben identified, pointing at one of the massive armored quadrupeds. "And over there—Hypnotick, Terroranchula, Slamworm..."
"They're Nemetrix specimens," Bad Ben finished, his voice hollow with understanding. "Predatory species specifically evolved to hunt Omnitrix transformations."
"What are those?" Mar-Vell demanded, cosmic senses finally detecting the unique threat these creatures represented.
"Simply put," Bad Ben explained, his analytical mind rapidly assessing the tactical nightmare they faced, "they're monsters with highly specialized abilities. Each one evolved as the natural predator of specific alien species."
His tumors pulsed faster with stress.
"And since the Omnitrix contains DNA samples from across the galaxy, these predators are extremely effective against us."
The "us" he referred to wasn't just himself and Mad Ben.
The Nemetrix predators' hunting capabilities were targeted and specific. The numerous transformations available in their Omnitrixes already encompassed most categories of superhuman abilities. If the predators could counter those alien forms, then superheroes with similar powers would naturally be vulnerable as well.
It was like facing an army of Sentinel robots—machines specifically designed to identify and counter mutant abilities.
"Nothing to be afraid of," Mar-Vell said dismissively, his messianic confidence reasserting itself.
So what if a few monsters possessed somewhat specialized hunting capabilities? They could be eliminated directly from inside the spaceships using superior firepower.
"Activate the energy cannons," he ordered. "Target the creature concentrations and eliminate them in coordinated volleys!"
Anthony Stark immediately complied, tapping commands across the holographic control interface floating in the air before him.
The massive warship's weapon systems began powering up, energy cores drawing from the corrupted arc reactor technology that powered the entire fleet.
BOOM!!
The entire vessel shook violently—not from firing, but from impact.
The explosive force threw both Ben variants off their feet, sending them sprawling across the command deck.
"What the hell?!" Mad Ben roared, catching himself against a console. "Is the recoil from your cannons really that extreme? You'd think we were the ones getting bombarded!"
Anthony Stark's face had gone ashen, his purple-tinted skin somehow paling further.
"That's because we are getting hit!" he shouted over alarms now blaring throughout the ship.
Mad Ben: ?
He didn't even have time to voice his confusion before another violent shockwave struck, like a meteor crashing directly into the ship's bow.
The impact point glowed white-hot for a split second before—
CRASH!
Like opening a tin can with a church key, the entire forward section of the ceiling was torn away.
Hundreds of tons of reinforced hull plating—material that should have withstood orbital bombardment—was casually ripped free and tossed aside like crumpled paper.
A figure descended through the newly created opening.
The striking woman had short dark hair and a warrior's build—all compact muscle and controlled power. She wore full black combat armor that seemed to absorb light, the material shifting and flowing across her body like living shadow. A semi-transparent atmospheric field enclosed her head, neither impeding her breathing nor offering any protection from the harsh environment—because she didn't need it.
Faora—Queen of New Krypton—looked down at the Revengers like a god observing insects.
Her gaze swept across the assembled forces, cataloging threats with superhuman perception. Her vision could see through solid matter, detect electromagnetic signatures, analyze chemical compositions. Within milliseconds, she'd assessed every individual in the command chamber.
Her attention settled on the wrists of Mad Ben and Bad Ben, focusing on the distinctive Omnitrix devices they wore.
"Be careful," she said, her voice carrying to the hundreds of Kryptonian soldiers now descending from the crimson sky. "The enemy possesses Omnitrix technology. Do not allow them to obtain our genetic material under any circumstances."
The warning was standard protocol for engagements against Omnitrix wielders. A single DNA sample could grant the enemy access to Kryptonian abilities—an unacceptable security risk.
As her words faded, hundreds of black-armored figures descended in coordinated formation.
They were all Kryptonians.
Or rather, New Kryptonians—the reconstructed population that Ben Parker had created using the Codex and Genesis dimension.
Faora served as their queen, appointed by Ben himself as the leader of New Krypton's military forces.
Ben had used the Codex's power to reshape an entire planet within the Null Void Realm, providing the Kryptonian survivors with a new homeworld. He'd utilized the Time Stone to accelerate the first generation's growth, allowing them to mature rapidly and begin natural reproduction.
After those artificially bred Kryptonians were born and reached adulthood, they were permitted to reproduce freely, giving the species genuine biological diversity and evolutionary potential.
This represented the most powerful military force under Plumber command, without exception.
While they couldn't achieve Superman's theoretical limitless power ceiling—his unique status as the last son of Krypton granted metaphysical advantages—their baseline capabilities remained extraordinarily high.
Any single New Kryptonian could casually devastate a planet's surface.
And Faora, a natural warrior enhanced by training and experience, now possessed power sufficient to extinguish stars under optimal solar radiation.
"Crush them," she commanded with casual authority, her hand gesturing almost lazily.
The Superman-equivalent soldiers rained down like meteors.
Their atmospheric entries created sonic booms that shattered what remained of the flagship's hull. Black armor gleamed as they descended in perfect tactical formation, each soldier targeting specific enemy ships with precision that spoke to military discipline and enhanced perception.
Outside the warship's crumbling shell, vast numbers of Nemetrix predators were already engaging the tentacle monsters that Mar-Vell's forces had brought from the Cancerverse.
The battles were brutal, primal, and utterly one-sided.
Crabdozers charged directly into clusters of cancer-corrupted creatures, their heat-immune carapaces shrugging off biological attacks while their crushing mandibles tore through immortal flesh. The cancer monsters regenerated, but the predators simply attacked again, and again, and again—an endless cycle of destruction that prevented the Cancerverse forces from organizing any coherent defense.
"Let's go too!" Mar-Vell shouted to the Revengers, cosmic energy already gathering around his corrupted form. "Show these primitives our power! Demonstrate what it means to face those who've conquered Death itself!"
The assembled corrupted heroes didn't yet have a concrete understanding of their enemies' capabilities.
But they possessed absolute confidence in their own strength.
After all, they were immortal. They couldn't die. They'd faced the abstract entity Death and won.
What could possibly threaten them?
Enemy forces? Mar-Vell's thoughts blazed with certainty. They'll definitely be annihilated under our—
FWOOSH!
A heat vision beam struck with surgical precision.
Mar-Vell's head separated from his body, the superheated energy cauterizing the wound instantly. His severed head hit the deck with a wet thud, purple blood pooling around it.
Instant kill.
Mar-Vell's consciousness registered confusion: ?
What just—
His body collapsed separately, tumors still pulsing with residual life.
The Revengers stared in shock.
Encountering Kryptonians—beings as monstrous in power as cosmic entities—Mar-Vell discovered he couldn't defeat them even with immortality and the strength to kill Death itself.
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