Chapter 366: Mr. Paradox and Deadpool
Deadpool watched as more and more orange time-doors bloomed in the hallway outside his own apartment, disgorging an ever-growing swarm of TVA agents.
He already knew a confrontation was unavoidable at this point.
He closed the door behind him gently — the gesture carrying a strange tenderness beneath the resolve.
He understood exactly what he was protecting behind that door: a quiet little harbor, his friends, everything he'd come to actually value in this life.
He wasn't about to let that storm break over the party — and definitely wasn't about to drag his friends into a fight that had nothing to do with them.
Turning to face the closing ring of enforcers, Deadpool took a slow breath, trying to summon whatever sharpness and fearlessness he'd carried on the battlefield years ago.
But time doesn't play favorites — even a man with his kind of regeneration could feel the rust that years of soft living had left behind.
He rolled his shoulders, every joint popping in a way that reminded him this was going to be a genuinely hard fight.
The TVA agents, though, weren't in a generous mood. They closed in fast, forming a perimeter, weapons crackling with dangerous light, ready to strike at any moment.
Deadpool's eyes sharpened instantly. He knew brute force alone wasn't going to cut it here.
He fell back on old instincts — weaving through the narrow hallway, ducking, rolling, dodging attacks coming from every direction with practiced ease.
Unfortunately, there were simply too many of them. Before long, he got blindsided and hauled in.
(Slander. Pure, unfiltered slander. I'm telling you right now, if it weren't for the director's orders, I would've mowed every last one of them down. But no arrest, no plot, right? — Deadpool shouted, defensive.)
Soon, a wave of dizziness swept over Deadpool, the world around him spinning like a kaleidoscope. When everything finally settled, he found himself standing inside a bizarre space bathed entirely in orange light — the Time Variance Authority's headquarters.
The building's exterior was drenched in that same warm orange, and the interior décor followed suit — the whole place radiating a look that was somehow both sleek sci-fi and strangely cozy.
At the center of a vast, futuristic hall stood a towering command platform, and atop it, a middle-aged man in a tailored black uniform, an elaborate time-symbol embroidered across his chest, carrying an unmistakable air of solemn authority. Two silver-armored TVA agents escorted Deadpool forward, courteous but firm, right up in front of him.
"Hello, Wade Wilson. Mr. Johnson. Or, as we more commonly know you — Deadpool." The man's voice came out low and magnetic. He extended a hand, smiling. "I run this place. You can call me Mr. Paradox."
Deadpool blinked, a playful smirk pulling at his mouth. "Handsome fella — you sure you didn't just walk right out of some vintage villain casting call?" His usual brand of humor and irreverence, fully intact.
Mr. Paradox chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Our timeline is far more intricate and interesting than any film could ever be, Wade. This is the Time Variance Authority, an entity existing entirely outside the ordinary world. Our mission is to safeguard the sacred, fragile Sacred Timeline — to make sure the wheel of history keeps turning exactly on its intended course, and to prevent anything that might trigger temporal chaos." He paused there, apparently catching himself, and added, "Not that this happens often. But it does happen — people occasionally deviate from the course they were always meant to follow. When that happens, the TVA collects them and takes them to the Void for a reset."
"Right, so — is this about me using Cable's Reset Charge to bring a few people back from the dead? That's why you're arresting me?"
"Actually, the reason we invited you here, Mr. Wade, was to ask whether you'd be interested in joining our organization — helping us maintain peace across the timeline."
At that, Deadpool looked around the room and noticed the walls covered edge-to-edge in monitors, each one a window onto a different timeline.
Iron Man fighting valiantly in space. Dr. Banner roaring as he transformed into the Hulk. The X-Men standing united against evil. Every single screen struck him as both familiar and thrillingly new.
What genuinely surprised him, though, was one particular screen — showing Thor, arms wrapped tight around some figure, his face wrecked with grief, tears sliding silently down his cheeks.
"Thor? Looks like he lost something important." Curiosity got the better of Deadpool, and he moved closer to get a better look, but Mr. Paradox stopped him in time. "That's the future. A moment that hasn't happened yet. Every life gets tangled together across the flow of time — every decision can trigger a cascade of consequences. We have to tread carefully, avoid interfering with events that haven't unfolded yet."
(Honestly, I'm genuinely curious what the deal was there — from where I was standing, it looked like Thor might've been hugging Hawkeye, or maybe it was me? That half-mask silhouette totally could've been me. Can somebody explain this to me? For the record, I actually really like Thor. Guy's built like a tank. — Deadpool admitted, a little bashfully.)
"So — will you join us?" Mr. Paradox asked again.
At that, Deadpool stared at the screens, practically vibrating with excitement. Finally. Finally, someone wanted him on a team!
Someone had finally invited him!
He was about to become a real superhero, one who actually got to protect the peace of the entire universe!
"So that's it — Marvel sent me here to save the future!
I really am Marvel's own messiah!" Deadpool declared, thrilled.
He still had no idea why Mr. Paradox had actually picked him, or what this organization even really did — but finally, finally, someone actually appreciated him!
"No objections here. Though I'm gonna need a new suit!"
Before long, the TVA staff had him fully outfitted in a brand-new uniform.
Deadpool practically bounced in front of Mr. Paradox afterward. "You guys have GREAT benefits here, seriously. Great design work too — I could do without the constant butt-slapping motif, but hey, whatever. Even my knife's made of adamantium. Absolutely incredible."
His old gear had all been standard, ordinary metal. This was, in every sense, an upgrade from a peashooter to a howitzer.
He'd always known about adamantium — Earth's most expensive known metal, the same stuff Wolverine's claws were forged from.
He'd wanted it forever, but never had the money.
Deadpool's opinion of the TVA kept climbing steadily.
As he got used to the new equipment, his favorability toward the whole organization only kept rising. Not only were they handing him top-tier gear and technical support, but there was something else too — a genuine sense of belonging he couldn't quite put into words. He started daydreaming about the mission ahead, imagining himself striding through the currents of time in his sharp new look, solving problems only someone like him could handle.
"So — what's the mission?" Deadpool asked, practically bouncing with excitement, eyes lit up. "Gimme the assignment so I can go tell my buddies I finally found my people! I want that X-Men crew who kept turning me down to see I've got a real organization behind me now!" A hint of smug provocation crept into his voice.
Mr. Paradox's answer, though, landed like a bucket of ice water, snuffing out every ounce of that enthusiasm in an instant.
"Mr. Deadpool, I think you may have misunderstood something." Mr. Paradox's voice stayed calm, level, and heavy. "You can't go back to your own timeline."
"What? What do you mean I can't go back to my own world?!"
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