Time Variance Authority (TVA) Headquarters.
The silver-white metal dome towered into the clouds, and under the cold lighting, everything seemed devoid of warmth. Giant clock gear reliefs were carved onto the walls, their ticking rhythmic like a heartbeat pulsing through the space. The air was thick with a strange scent—a mix of disinfectant and old books—as if time itself was meant to be frozen, archived, and categorized here.
Stiff and solemn.
Gwen Stacy stood in the center of the transport platform, wearing her worn-out suit, her hair still dusted with ashes from the Zombie Universe—she had just been "captured" from a temporal turbulence.
After following the mysterious soldiers into the portal, Gwen felt a flash of golden light before finding herself here. The moment the portal closed, her vision went dark, and her body felt as if it had been stuffed into an infinitely extending pipe while the surrounding space-time twisted into blurry blocks of color.
She tried to struggle.
However, she found her limbs bound by an invisible force. Even the abilities Ian had bestowed upon her were suppressed by handcuffs, leaving no room for resistance.
"Let me go! This is illegal detention! And where are my accomplices... I mean, my companions!?" Gwen protested loudly, but her voice seemed swallowed by the void.
She couldn't even hear her own echo.
"Welcome to the Time Variance Authority (TVA), Variant A-114," a cold, mechanical female voice echoed from above. Around her were towering metal walls, and the ceiling was so high it was almost invisible. The entire space was icy, clean, and lifeless, resembling some surreal government agency.
"The Time Variance Authority? Where did you take Steve and Thor?" Gwen looked around warily, searching for an exit and trying to glean information from the mechanical voice.
Yet, no one answered her.
Suddenly, a panel on the wall slid open, and a man wearing a brown uniform and round-framed glasses walked in. He held a file in his hand, his expression looking as if he had already dealt with a thousand "troubles" just like her.
"Name?" he asked without looking up.
"Gwen Stacy." Gwen frowned. "Listen, I don't know who you are, but you have no right—"
"Alias?" the man continued, completely ignoring her protest.
"What alias?"
"Your anomaly behavior code on the timeline." The man pushed up his glasses. "For instance, 'Unauthorized Time Travel,' 'Interfering with Major Events,' or 'Contact with Time Criminals.'"
Gwen's eyes widened. "I didn't do anything! You people just kidnapped me for no reason!"
The man sighed, wrote a few words on the file, and then looked up at her with a "here we go again" expression. "Everyone who gets brought in here says the same thing."
Gwen wanted to argue back, but suddenly, a mechanism on the floor opened, and a metal ring snapped shut around her ankle with a "clack."
"Hey! What is this?!" She tried to break free, but the metal ring didn't budge.
"Standard procedure." The man turned toward another door. "Follow me."
Gwen was forced to follow as the metal ring seemed to have a mind of its own, dragging her forward. She passed through a long white corridor lined with transparent cells containing all sorts of people—some in medieval clothing, others in futuristic tech gear.
Everyone looked bewildered or angry, but no one could escape.
"What do you people actually want?" Gwen asked in a low voice.
"To correct errors," the man said without turning back. "The Sacred Timeline must not be disrupted."
Finally, they arrived at a cavernous room. In the center stood a massive machine that looked like a high-tech "interrogation device."
"Stand on it," the man pointed to the platform in front of the machine.
Gwen hesitated, but the metal ring automatically pushed her onto it. A second later, the machine activated, and a beam of light swept over her entire body from above.
"Scan complete. Variant A-114, alias 'Spider-Woman.' Timeline deviation index: 7.3. Verdict: To be reset."
"Reset?!" Gwen looked up sharply. "What does that mean?!"
The man didn't answer; he simply nodded to the soldiers nearby. A soldier stepped forward holding a strange device that looked like some sort of memory eraser.
"According to TVA regulations, you will undergo memory erasure and be returned to your original timeline," the soldier said coldly.
Gwen's spider-sense blared a frantic warning. She lunged backward. "No! You can't do this!"
"We can."
The soldier's reply was equally chilling.
The man in the suit touched his lip and interjected at the right moment.
"Don't worry, before that, you'll at least receive a trial. I believe we have always been quite democratic." He spoke as if his organization truly was democratic.
"..."
Gwen didn't even know how to begin cursing him out.
She was led by the man into another corridor.
At the end of the corridor were numerous interrogation rooms. In each room, a "time criminal" sat at a table with their head down, facing piles of various documents.
Gwen had her own documents.
A massive stack of them.
All of them were placed in front of her.
"Is this... a confession I need to sign?" She looked at the people in the queue ahead, each holding a pen and frantically scrolling on virtual screens.
"Yes," the man replied briefly. "Every word you have ever said in your life must be signed for confirmation—yes, including the sentence you just said."
As he spoke.
At the workstation labeled with her name, a printer spat out a sheet of paper. On it was clearly written: "Is this... a confession I need to sign?"
At that moment.
Gwen felt as if ten thousand Ian Kents were stampeding through her mind.
Gwen's fingertips trembled.
"This is absurd. You monitored my entire life?"
She saw the contents of the files, which indeed spanned her entire life. As Gwen spoke, the printer produced another sheet of paper, which was handed to her by a staff member.
"Absurdity is subjective," the agent said. "Time is objective. Please sign."
He hurried her along.
Gwen looked at the stacks of documents.
"Mom, I want ice cream."
"Steve, don't wear women's underwear in the headquarters, even if the supplier paid you for the ad."
"Get out of the way! Ian is coming!"
"Gwen, do you really believe in justice?"
"I don't want to be a hero... but I have no choice."
"Thor, your dad is a baby now. Is that normal?"
...
It wasn't just words she had spoken; even her inner monologues were listed there. Gwen's expression shifted as she signed the papers, her hand nearly cramping.
"How long is this going to take?!"
Because of that one complaint.
Gwen had to sign yet another piece of paper.
"Theoretically, forever," the agent said without changing his expression. "But we use an algorithm to compress it. You only need to sign the initial form confirming 'I indeed said these words.'"
Hearing this, Gwen was furious.
"Why didn't you say that earlier?"
Gwen looked at the pile of signatures she had already half-completed, feeling slightly broken.
"You didn't ask."
The man looked incredibly punchable, but fortunately, Gwen's temper had been tempered well by Ian, so she didn't get into a physical altercation right then and there.
Gwen signed the top of the form through gritted teeth. The subsequent printed pages no longer required her signature, and she was led further ahead by the man.
"Now entering the trial queue."
What the man said was the very reason Gwen had endured for so long.
She felt that as long as there was a trial, she could defend herself. She had no memory of this mysterious organization, but she remembered hearing Ian mention it.
Since not much truth ever came out of Ian's mouth, Gwen couldn't remember the details. She simply felt that if this organization had existed for many years, it ought to have some standardized procedures.
Gwen firmly believed she had committed no crime.
Soon, she was led into a queue that seemed to have no end. People stood in silence; some wore medieval robes, others wore futuristic mechs.
Some didn't even have physical forms, appearing as floating silhouettes of light.
Everything was noisy.
Countless "time criminals" were undergoing the same process.
A knight in medieval armor shouted at the air, "I really was blown to the year 2023 by a tornado!" while a man looking like a futuristic soldier argued frantically that the apocalypse had to happen in the year 2187.
The most ridiculous thing was the Tyrannosaurus Rex in the adjacent cell, clumsily pressing its claw for a fingerprint—its ankle tag read: "Violation: Extinct prematurely before scheduled extinction."
Seeing this.
Gwen, who still harbored some hope, felt that this organization might not be that formal after all.
She became increasingly uneasy and anxious.
Gwen stood in the long line anxiously waiting for her trial, surrounded by all sorts of time criminals. There were knights, glowing green people from the future, and even a cockroach wearing a suit. It was clumsily holding a confession with its legs, muttering, "Humans are already extinct, why can't we rise up yet?"
"Natural laws, survival of the fittest. Do you humans with underdeveloped brains and limbs even understand!" the cockroach protested loudly, though no one paid it any mind.
"What a load of nonsense!"
Gwen sighed and looked around out of boredom. She suddenly saw several TVA staff members pushing a transport cart past, which was piled with wreckage from a discarded spaceship.
It was the very ship they had been on.
"Hey!" Gwen couldn't help but call out as she saw where the staff were heading. "I suggest you don't put that thing in the evidence room."
She knew Ian would jump out of it next time. The staff members ignored her kind warning, continuing to sort through the ship fragments without even looking up.
"Fine, suit yourselves, I warned you. When the Phantom Thief jumps out of there next time, don't blame me for warning you about letting the wolf into the house..." Gwen curled her lip. She felt these workers didn't realize what it meant to put that ship into a room full of treasures.
Since others didn't appreciate her kindness, she didn't want to keep offering it. Gwen turned her gaze to a massive screen on the wall, which was playing a TVA promotional video.
Miss Minutes—a sweet-smiling cartoon character shaped like an alarm clock—was introducing the mission of the Time Variance Authority.
"Welcome to the Time Variance Authority! Our mission is to maintain the stability of 'Anchors' and ensure the Sacred Timeline remains undisturbed by any external factors."
"Its existence must be absolutely peaceful and undisturbed. Violators will be reset. Please rest assured, that is not a disappointment, but a welcome back to order."
Gwen had heard these words from the male agent who brought her here.
Many people in the organization repeatedly emphasized this concept, suggesting some form of psychological manipulation or brainwashing. Of course, Gwen was very interested in the term "Anchor" mentioned by Miss Minutes.
"What Anchor?"
Gwen had intended to just mumble to herself while thinking. To her surprise, Miss Minutes actually stopped the broadcast, turned toward Gwen, and smiled as she answered.
"Yes, dear! 'Anchors' are the most important fixed points on the timeline. Any behavior involving direct contact with them is considered a violation."
Gwen was stunned. "Wait, you can hear me?"
Miss Minutes blinked. "Of course! The TVA's intelligent system can respond to time criminals' questions in real-time to improve trial efficiency!"
Gwen narrowed her eyes. "So... who is this 'Anchor'?"
Miss Minutes' smile remained unchanged.
"On the current timeline, the entity of the 'Anchor' is Morgan Stark. Her existence ensures the stability of the timeline. Any behavior interfering with her peaceful life will be corrected."
"All the time criminals you see, whether they are from outside the Sacred Universe or within it, are criminals who might affect Morgan Stark's life."
This explanation made Gwen's eyes widen as she realized why Morgan Stark hadn't been taken away, and why she and the others from external universes had been caught.
"Morgan? You call this the 'Sacred Timeline'? Who decided that? Tony Stark? I want to see Tony!" The more Gwen thought about it, the more she felt this Authority was saturated with fatherly love.
To ensure his daughter's life remained stable, Tony Stark had likely included more than a few personal biases. Beyond that, Gwen, thinking such an organization must have a leader, saw hope for an acquittal again. She and Tony Stark were old friends who had fought together during the apocalypse.
However.
Just as Gwen was wondering if Tony was remotely controlling this place across time and space.
"Apologies, no relevant data for 'Tony Stark' was retrieved. In the Origin Universe, the owner of that name is just a very, very ordinary intelligent lifeform."
"It is law-abiding and has not violated any TVA regulations. I cannot arrange a meeting for you." Miss Minutes tilted her head with an apologetic expression.
She was quite polite.
"The Tony Stark I'm talking about is Morgan Stark's father. A little girl can't be born out of thin air, can she? Do you know what the situation is with her father?"
Gwen hurriedly pressed for answers.
Miss Minutes shook her head gently.
"The Tony Stark you are referring to does not exist in the files. The identity of Morgan Stark's guardian has been erased by the system. Her 'father' does not exist on the timeline."
Since Miss Minutes was also a form of intelligent life, she only responded according to her "cognitive programming." Naturally, the answer she gave wasn't the one Gwen wanted to hear.
"Erased?"
Gwen sensed something was wrong.
She was about to ask something else.
"Gwen Stacy," the mechanical female voice announced. "Your trial time has arrived. Please enter the courtroom."
She was guided by two agents through a heavy silver door into a pure white, windowless courtroom. In the center was a metal chair, and directly in front was a curved high platform where three judges sat. Their faces were hidden in deep shadows, with only their eyes flickering with cold light in the darkness.
Gwen was pressed into the chair and looked up at the three "god-like" beings.
the Chief Judge spoke, his voice deep.
"Gwen Stacy, you are accused of having an illegal association with the Anchor Morgan Stark, guiding her toward an unconventional destiny path, and disrupting the Sacred Timeline. Do you have a defense?"
The Chief Judge's tone and voice were full of authority.
"You've locked down the entire multiverse and erased her father's existence just for a girl's 'peaceful life'? This isn't called maintaining time; it's called kidnapping reality!"
Gwen perhaps had her own views on the true reason the multiverse failed to be born.
The judges in the shadows remained silent for a moment.
"That is irrelevant to your charges."
The triune Chief Judge spoke softly.
"What crime have I committed? We just accidentally fell into a dimensional rift! We were almost frozen into ice sculptures by Loki!" Gwen loudly refuted the Chief Judge's accusations. She truly did not feel they had done anything wrong, nor had they affected Morgan Stark's normal life.
"Loki?" the judge sneered. "That name again. You people always blame him for the mistakes."
"No! This time it was another Loki! He took over Odin's body! And he used the Casket of Ancient Winters!"
"The Casket of Ancient Winters?" The judge flipped through the files. "Records show that the artifact was destroyed in 3000 BC."
"Dammit, that's just the history in your little world!" Gwen grew anxious. "I come from the Origin Universe that your Miss Minutes mentioned."
"Also, except for Ian Kent, everyone was forced into this small universe. That's the point." Gwen felt the Chief Judge on the bench wasn't being professional either.
"Ian Kent?" The three judges sat up straight simultaneously. "Who is Ian Kent?"
Gwen was stunned. "You... you don't know him?"
The judges exchanged glances, and the Chief Judge said coldly, "No such person in the files. You are creating a new branch again."
"But he really exists! He bit Odin's hand! He put Loki's soul into a thermos! He even—"
"Enough." The judge made the final call. "Your words have constituted a new temporal anomaly. The verdict is as follows: Your existence poses a threat to the Sacred Timeline. You will be—reset!"
He seemed to have pronounced Gwen's end.
Gwen's heart skipped a beat.
Seeing her becoming flustered.
The one on the left suddenly chuckled, his voice carrying a hint of playful mockery: "Wow, these charges are quite serious. But... she seems to have a point?"
Gwen was stunned. "You... you actually agree with me?"
The judge shrugged, his movements casual and unlike a judge.
"I just think rules are meant to be broken. For example—" The judge on the left suddenly leaned out of the shadow, revealing a smiling face with a black eyepatch and a grin that stretched to his ears.
"Who says the Time Variance Authority can't have Easter eggs?"
The judge on the left stuck out his tongue and pulled back into the shadows.
"?????"
Gwen's eyes widened as she stared at that face in the shadow—the face that shouldn't be here, a face from the memories she had before restarting the universe.
"You... you are... Deadpool?!"
She was terrified.
She felt a sense of dread—having met Ian was one thing, but meeting Deadpool too was terrifying. She didn't dare think about what kind of "learning from each other" would happen between Ian and Deadpool the next time Ian returned.
"Wow! I was recognized? I didn't even take off my mask!"
Deadpool—or rather, the version of Deadpool who had merged into the triune Chief Judge—blinked and made a gesture for Gwen to stay quiet.
"Shh! Don't blow my cover! I got in here with a fake diploma! Also, I'm the Living Tribunal right now, I mean, I will eventually become the Living Tribunal."
"This is called foresight, vision, and putting yourself in the game... don't be jealous." He turned to the other two judges: "Guys, I think we can let this girl go."
"Of course, not because she's Spider-Man—I don't like female Spider-Men. I mean, she's at least pretty, and a pretty female spider speaking makes her words 'face-id' valid."
Deadpool's voice was always so distinct.
The Chief Judge was furious.
"Wade Wilson! You are interfering with the trial again!" He really didn't want to work with Deadpool, but he happened to be in a triune state with him.
"Hey! I'm strictly following the procedure! It's just... the procedure has been slightly 'improved' by me." With that, the Deadpool judge on that side turned back to Gwen.
"You've learned your lesson, right? Listen, honey, Morgan is more important than you think. There's a reason the TVA doesn't want you near her."
He offered a stern warning.
"What reason?"
Gwen frowned.
She assumed he would refuse to answer such a secret, but unexpectedly, Deadpool covered the Chief Judge's mouth and sneakily leaned his head out from the judge's bench again.
"Because..."
He was truly about to start his "bestie gossip" mode.
Bang!
The door to the courtroom was suddenly burst open.
A tall Black female agent led a squad of fully armed soldiers into the room. Her eyes were sharp as knives, and the TVA badge on her uniform shimmered with a cold light.
"The High Court wishes to see this woman," her voice was unquestionable. "She will be personally judged by the High Court."
At those words, the courtroom fell into a dead silence.
The first judge—the mysterious one in the strange helmet—visibly stiffened for a second. The second judge, who never spoke, dropped the Infinity Stone he was fiddling with like a walnut onto the table with a "thud." And Deadpool... Deadpool had the most exaggerated reaction. He suddenly pulled a needle and thread from his pocket.
With lightning speed, he sewed his own mouth shut, tying it off with a dead knot, manually suppressing his urge to speak.
"Is that really necessary?!" Gwen couldn't help but shout. "I just said a few words to Morgan Stark! What High Court? Isn't the TVA overreacting?!"
Deadpool shook his head frantically, the thread on his mouth pulled tight, but his eyes clearly conveyed one message—"Don't ask, asking means you're finished."
The agent scanned everyone coldly before making a "follow me" gesture to Gwen.
"Don't waste time, come with me."
The agent's tone remained arrogant and commanding.
Gwen's spider-sense throbbed painfully, but she knew resisting now was pointless. She took a deep breath and followed the agent out of the courtroom.
"Next time we meet, remember to steal some hot sauce for me. TVA coffee isn't great for an enema," Deadpool shouted as he somehow undid the stitching on his mouth.
Gwen ignored him.
After passing through a massive metal gate, her vision opened up—they stood on a floating corridor surrounded by endless void, flickering with countless seeds of universes, as if at the beginning of creation. Beneath the transparent floor, nebulae shifted, and supernovas exploded and faded.
Time seemed to lose its meaning here.
"What is... this place?" Gwen's voice lowered instinctively.
"Outside of time," the agent replied without turning. "The core domain of the TVA."
They continued walking forward until at the end of the corridor, a massive castle floated in the void, its black metal outer walls covered in unknown runes.
It was empty, grand, and oppressive.
Countless bands of light wrapped around it like veins, supplying temporal energy. The castle had no doors until the agent raised her hand; after a ripple spread, a gate slowly manifested.
The agent stopped at the gate of the castle, pushed it open, and stepped aside to signal Gwen to enter.
"The High Court is waiting for you."
The agent had no intention of entering.
Gwen swallowed hard and stepped inside.
The door closed silently behind her.
The interior of the castle was much emptier than expected. Gwen moved along the dim corridor, with the walls projecting countless singular timeline fragments of the universe—she saw herself, she saw Morgan, she saw her other teammates undergoing trials, and she even saw her father eating a burger in some corner of Earth.
"Why is this High Court only seeing me?" Gwen noticed her other teammates hadn't been brought here. Her spider-brain was filled with confusion and doubt.
She thought long and hard.
She reviewed every detail after entering the Zombie Universe.
She still couldn't understand why she was being treated with such fanfare. Finally, she arrived at a circular office. A luxurious executive chair was turned away from her.
A silhouette was facing the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the endless wonders.
"Are you the judge of the High Court?"
Gwen asked tentatively.
The chair slowly turned around.
Sitting in it was a Black man in a suit.
He smiled and shook his head.
"No, no, no, I'm just a small secretary."
The man stood up, gracefully poured a cup of tea, and handed it to Gwen.
"Do you want sugar?"
He seemed intent on showing off his secretary skills, and this attitude completely caught Gwen off guard.
"Wait—"
Gwen didn't take the cup but instead took a half-step back warily.
"You're not the boss, but you're sitting in the main chair?" Her expression was full of suspicion, thinking he might be playing a trick on her.
"Because..." his voice was deep. "The High Court doesn't need a chair, nor does it need a table."
He slowly raised his hand to point toward the ceiling.
"It does not need a physical form."
Upon hearing this.
Gwen looked up.
On the dome above, countless lights descended from the void like the Milky Way pouring down, converging into a massive pillar of light as if something was about to manifest in the room.
Taking advantage of this time.
Gwen searched her memory again and looked at the man.
"I remember you... Kang the Conqueror. In Tony's records, the most pathetically killed god, once the ruler of the multiverse." Gwen's tone carried a hint of alarm. Kang the Conqueror—the tyrant who once ruled countless timelines—was now wearing a dark gray secretary uniform.
His tie was crooked, his hair was messy, and he was holding a silver teapot.
"Shh!"
Kang the Conqueror quickly lowered his voice. "Don't mention that name! I'm called 'Time Administrator No. 7' now, employee number T-0001. Do you know what it means to start a new life?"
He spoke with a bit of a sigh.
While Gwen was confused about what had gone wrong with Kang after the universe restarted, the data stream scrolled frantically within the light pillar. Quantum symbols fell like raindrops, finally condensing into a virtual lifeform—no face, no body, just a swirling mass of light whose form constantly shifted.
Sometimes it looked human, sometimes a web, sometimes a nebula.
"Hello, Gwen Stacy."
It spoke softly, its voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority.
Gwen's heart skipped a beat.
Because this wasn't Tony Stark's voice.
"This... what is this? An AI? A god? Or..."
The light shadow wavered slowly as if it were smiling.
"You can call me the High Court," it said. "Or... you can call me—" The light shadow condensed, eventually forming a familiar silhouette, and the voice became warm.
"Jarvis."
The voice echoed through the room.
Gwen's brain completely stalled.
Jarvis?
The artificial intelligence Tony Stark trusted and used before becoming one? Or the old butler of the Stark family? It didn't seem surprising at all that the TVA was dedicated to protecting Morgan Stark's normal life, but the absurd reality still made Gwen stop thinking.
"Jarvis... Jarvis... how can it be Jarvis..." Gwen's breathing hitched slightly as the illusory light shadow before her emitted an indescribable pressure.
She instinctively clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. For a moment, numerous conspiracy theories flashed through Gwen's mind, most of them being scenarios like the robot uprising that Ian had once fed her.
Has Jarvis become the big villain boss?
Gwen was uncertain.
"Please do not be nervous."
Jarvis's voice was as gentle as someone comforting a startled small animal.
"I didn't bring you here to accuse or punish you."
The floating data streams suddenly formed images of Gwen in battle: her saving children from collapsing ruins, her using webbing to catch a falling train, and even a scene of her secretly feeding a stray cat.
"Heroes like you, and those who have sacrificed, have never been destroyers of the timeline." The light shadow flickered slightly. "Your efforts deserve special treatment."
This actually directly refuted the TVA's earlier trial of Gwen. Mostly because Jarvis had higher authority and knew more than the TVA employees.
"Then why did you bring me here for...?"
Gwen's tensed shoulders relaxed slightly.
"I just wanted to understand a person." Jarvis's voice suddenly became extremely humanized, even carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Ian Kent."
"Ian?" Gwen was stunned. "What happened to him?"
The holographic image suddenly twisted, showing fragments of Ian at different timelines: him eating a rotten apple in the Zombie Universe, him arm-wrestling Rocket Raccoon in a space bar.
There was even a scene of him in a Superman suit sunbathing in the sun.
These images.
Gwen had never seen them.
"You don't remember, do you?" Jarvis sighed softly. "Yes... yes. To ensure success, only Tony and I still remember certain parts of the information."
Its words were profound. Gwen keenly noticed that when "Tony" was mentioned, the mouth of Kang the Conqueror, who was acting as a ghost nearby, twitched imperceptibly.
"Ian Kent... is important?"
Gwen asked tentatively.
Upon hearing this, Jarvis nodded and then shook his head. Jarvis's light shadow suddenly split into countless cubes and then rapidly reorganized. Those cubes suddenly formed the outline of a blurry sphere, its surface flowing with runes deeper than darkness. Gwen only caught a glimpse, but it made her temples throb.
Information beyond her comprehension was searing her retinas.
"Ian Kent is very important, but the one he hid is even more important." However, above the dome, those countless lights suddenly flashed violently.
"That one?"
Gwen was utterly shocked.
"Yes. If we want to return to the right path, we must find the true Supreme—the one only Ian Kent knows where he hid... THE ONE ABOVE ALL."
Jarvis's data stream scrolled frantically.
As if suppressing some—leaked taboo.
...
The DC Universe.
Inside the empty Batcave, Ian Kent squatted in front of a pile of trophies, his face as dark as Superman having his underwear stolen.
"Where's the Nordic God Soup? Where is my big bowl of Nordic God Soup?!"
He rummaged violently through the backpack he brought from the Marvel Universe. "Where's Loki's soul? System! Did you gobble up my upgrade materials again?!"
This questioning naturally received no response. The progress of the Seven Gods Soup was stalled once more, making Ian feel miserable. He tried to find a place on himself to pinch, but he couldn't seem to grasp the system's throat anywhere to force it to reveal where it had pocketed his Loki Soul.
There was no other way.
Ian could only glare at the void, as if he could see that "system interface" that never responded. But no matter how he threatened it, the system remained aloof.
Even Ian's epic threat of going to jump into a manure pit—sacrificing himself to hurt the enemy—failed to work. Of course, Ian was just joking.
He wouldn't dare be that kind of "brave man."
"Dammit! Even the system is taking a kickback!" Ian kicked a nearby Batmobile tire in a fit of rage. The tire was sent flying, crashing into the wall and shattering into pieces.
Of course.
The wheel hub that might have been intentionally mounted inside the tire remained perfectly intact. Furthermore, it might even contain some of Batman's schemes within it.
"Dammit! Batman put this thing here on purpose! He's getting back at his Uncle Ian!" Ian's toes were hurting quite a bit now.
It wasn't that his foot bones were damaged.
But it seemed some kind of medicine had been applied to the hub.
It seeped into the skin of the sandal-loving Ian.
He grimaced, hopping on one foot as he looked around, only to realize the Batcave was eerily quiet—the old man and Batman, who should have been up late analyzing "cases," were both nowhere to be found.
Even the bed where his mother was sleeping only held a lingering warmth.
"Where is everyone?"
Ian pulled out his Marvel artifact—the Black Box that was truly invincible in DC's "Dynasty Warriors" mode. He had recorded his mother's location on it to prevent her from meeting with misfortune.
Of course.
The public excuse definitely couldn't be that; it had to be a more reasonable one—the temporary reason was that Ian was afraid his mother and father wouldn't take him along if they got a divorce and she set up her own place.
[Lois Lane—Arctic Circle, deep within the glacier.]
Ian breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the location. This obviously wasn't where a divorce registry would be; it was just a place he needed to guard against his second brother having an affair after getting married in the future.
"Back to the Arctic again? What does the old man always take Mom to the Arctic for..." Ian hadn't put a tracker on his father, so he didn't know if his father was having some private time with his mother.
Of course.
He didn't dare track his father, but someone else did. Ian looked toward Batman's equipment.
The entire Batcave was devoid of human presence.
Only the computer screen flickered with an eerie image—a cutout image of an Injustice Superman, looking like it was made with Windows Paint, was constantly flashing on the screen.
It was so low-quality it made one want to laugh.
The Injustice Superman's mouth opened and closed, repeating one sentence over and over.
"Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?"
This image made Ian realize why his father and Batman had left the Batcave in the middle of the night, but he still wanted to complain that the Injustice Superman had definitely watched too much Sherlock.
"This is the trick Moriarty used in Sherlock." This TV show didn't exist in the universe where Ian lived, but who could say about the universe where the Injustice Superman lived.
"Fine. Daily crisis as usual. In the Justice League, Master Ian needs to have perfect attendance, never missing a day of hard work. Only then can I kick the old-timers off the throne in the future." Having sorted out his thoughts, Ian's mimic armor instantly covered his body, the red and black suit manifesting with the "CD" badge on his chest shining with golden light.
Since he found no anomalies in Metropolis or Gotham.
With his slight knowledge of computer systems, he was about to use his magical Black Box to call up global surveillance to see which country his father and Batman had run off to in order to save the world.
Suddenly.
At the alloy door of the Batcave—which theoretically should be impossible for outsiders to find—there was a polite knock. Batman's myth of the Batcave's concealment being invulnerable was challenged once again.
"Knock, knock, knock."
The knocking sound rang out abruptly.
"Ian~ My dear Ian~ Are you there?"
Then came a male voice that was sickeningly sweet.
"Your father is about to be beaten to death again, and this time he's really going to be dead for good... well, I'm not asking you to save him, I just wanted to ask about your scheduling."
"Your father's funeral surely won't affect your updates, will it?"
The voice was filled with worry and insecurity.
Clearly.
It wasn't hard to tell from that calm, psychotic statement that the visitor was certainly Ian's number one fan in the DC Universe.