Splat!
Dormammu casually pressed a single finger downward.
Deadpool instantly became a puddle of flesh.
No scream. No struggle.
Just a wet, disgusting smear spread across the void like someone had crushed a tomato with their thumb.
Dormammu stared at the mess with complete contempt. He didn't even bother to hide his disgust.
A weak creature.
An insect.
Not worth a second glance.
He turned away.
Then—
"Dormammu! I'm here to negotiate!"
Dormammu paused.
"…?"
Slowly, he turned his head back.
The sound hadn't come from nowhere.
It was coming from the puddle.
Dormammu leaned closer, and only then did he see it: a mouth—perfectly intact—sitting in the middle of the pulp.
The rest of the body was already beginning to regenerate, using the mouth as the center point, like it had decided talking was the highest priority.
Dormammu's eye twitched.
Splat!
He pressed another finger down.
This time he didn't just press.
He twisted.
Hard.
When he lifted his finger, not a single speck of flesh remained.
Dormammu nodded once, satisfied. He turned to leave again.
Then—
"Dormammu! I'm here to negotiate!"
Dormammu's entire presence turned dangerous.
He raised his hand slowly.
And his expression darkened.
A tiny mouth had already begun growing on his finger.
Dormammu stared at it.
"…So the immortal body regrows the mouth first."
He shook his head in annoyed disbelief.
With a flick of his finger, he launched the irritating mouth across the Dark Dimension like a thrown pebble, sending it flying into whatever counted as the Dark Dimension's garbage disposal zone.
Silence returned.
Dormammu finally began walking away.
Then he paused again.
A faint feeling crawled up his spine.
This scene…
This irritation…
It felt… familiar.
Dormammu clicked his tongue.
Who cared?
A creature that was useless except for being hard to kill was not worth his time.
He had better things to do.
Like devouring other broken dimensions.
---
Deadpool had no idea how long he flew.
Maybe it was three days.
Maybe it was three years.
Maybe it was three light-years.
Time inside the Dark Dimension didn't follow normal rules anyway.
But one thing was certain—
His body had fully regenerated by the third day.
Eventually, he slammed into something enormous.
A mountain of trash.
Metal scraps, broken stones, shattered artifacts, strange black sludge, and things that looked like the remains of failed realities.
Deadpool's body bounced once.
Then sank into the garbage pile like a sack of meat.
He struggled, arms flailing.
"Oh my God!" he yelled dramatically.
"What kind of place is this?!"
"It's even messier than my room!"
A voice answered from above him.
"Buddy… I'm not gonna lie."
"If this is messier than your room…"
"Then you've had it pretty good."
A warm, strong hand grabbed Deadpool's wrist—one of the only parts he'd managed to stick out of the trash pile.
With a solid pull, Deadpool was yanked free and dragged onto the surface of the garbage heap.
Deadpool coughed, shook himself, and instantly launched into performance mode.
"Oh my God, you saved me!"
"I must repay your kindness by offering myself—"
Then he looked up.
And froze.
The world turned into a staring contest.
Deadpool: o_O
Standing over him was someone dressed in a robe that looked like ancient night clothes, mostly black with deep crimson patterns. Two swords were strapped to his back. Two crossbows hung at his waist.
His mask was pulled down, revealing a face that looked like it had survived a tenth-degree burn.
Deadpool slowly stood.
Then, like a polite lunatic, he extended his hand.
"Hello. I'm Wade. Wade Wilson."
"Nickname: Deadpool."
The stranger's mouth twitched slightly.
But he still shook Deadpool's hand.
"Hello," the stranger said flatly.
"I'm Wilson. Wilson Wade."
Deadpool blinked.
"…What."
The stranger continued calmly.
"And my nickname is also… Deadpool."
Deadpool stared harder.
"So you're…"
"Me," the stranger replied.
"But darker."
Deadpool slowly pointed at him.
"Black… Deadpool."
Black Deadpool tilted his head.
"That's not official."
"It is now," Deadpool said solemnly.
---
Black Deadpool studied him carefully.
"How did you get into the Dark Dimension?"
Deadpool's mood instantly dropped.
His shoulders slumped.
"Don't ask."
"Just like you… I was thrown in by that old woman."
"The Ancient One."
Black Deadpool's expression changed instantly.
His eyes widened.
"…You dare call her an old woman?"
He drew a sword in one smooth motion.
"Draw your blade, you bastard!"
Deadpool jumped back.
"…Whoa whoa WHOA!"
Deadpool stared at the sword.
Then stared at Black Deadpool's furious face.
And suddenly realized something terrifying.
Oh no.
He had just guessed the answer.
Slowly, Deadpool backed away with a mixture of horror and admiration.
"Brother…"
"Don't tell me…"
"You like the Ancient One."
Black Deadpool lifted his chin proudly.
"Why not?"
Deadpool's voice rose.
"Damn!"
"You have terrible taste!"
Black Deadpool looked offended.
"What do you mean terrible taste?"
"You're Deadpool too!"
"You should see beyond appearances!"
"To others she might look like an old sorceress who's lived for centuries…"
"But to us…"
His voice grew passionate.
"She's Tilda Swinton!"
Deadpool froze.
Black Deadpool's eyes sparkled like a man possessed.
"The enchanting queen…"
"The powerful White Witch…"
"The fallen angel…"
"Oh my God!"
"Just thinking about it makes my blood boil!"
Deadpool's jaw dropped.
…He hated to admit it.
But Black Deadpool was making a terrifying amount of sense.
Still, Deadpool wasn't someone who surrendered easily.
He crossed his arms.
"Sure."
"But she can also be the wrinkled old lady…"
"And the arrogant villain…"
Black Deadpool's entire body stiffened.
Then he curled into himself like someone had stabbed him emotionally.
Deadpool nodded.
"Yeah."
"That's what I thought."
Black Deadpool exploded.
"DAMN IT!"
"DRAW YOUR SWORD!"
"I'M GOING TO CHOP YOU INTO MINCED MEAT AND MAKE NOODLES TODAY!"
Deadpool grinned.
"Bring it."
---
SHING!
Four blades came out at once—two katanas, two swords.
Steel flashed in the darkness.
The garbage heap became a battlefield.
Blades collided so quickly that afterimages filled the air.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The sound echoed endlessly through the Dark Dimension like someone ringing metal bells in hell.
---
Thump… Thump… Thump…
Later.
Deep in the Dark Dimension, in a silent corner where even the void seemed tired, the sound of chopping echoed rhythmically.
A cleaver rose and fell on a cutting board.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Deadpool stood calmly, chopping meat with professional confidence.
Beside him, a pot simmered over a small flame that absolutely should not exist in a dimension like this. Noodles bubbled in boiling water. Steam rose gently.
And to the side—
Black Deadpool was now just a head.
His eyes were wide.
His face was full of disbelief.
He watched Deadpool mince meat like it was a normal Tuesday.
Black Deadpool finally asked, stunned.
"Where did you get all this stuff?"
"Don't tell me you traveled to that cartoon world and stole a four-dimensional pocket."
Deadpool nodded seriously.
"You got it right."
"The grand prize is being prepared."
"Please wait a moment."
Black Deadpool's eyes widened further.
"Damn…"
"My childhood is doomed."
Deadpool snorted.
"You didn't have that cartoon in your childhood."
"Based on your gear, you're from centuries ago."
"You probably barely saw a single adult magazine."
Black Deadpool protested loudly.
"Come on!"
"We've already broken the fourth wall."
"Is it really impossible for me to watch cartoons in my head?"
Deadpool replied instantly.
"Yes."
He stared at him like he was judging his soul.
"With that ability, you don't watch adult magazines…"
"Instead you watch children's shows?"
"Don't tell anyone you're Deadpool."
"I'd be embarrassed."
Black Deadpool's eyes widened again.
"Who says I don't watch them?!"
Deadpool paused.
Black Deadpool leaned in proudly, as much as a head could.
"The moms in that cartoon are pretty charming."
Deadpool's face went blank.
…He regretted not finishing this guy off earlier.
"Pervert."
"So perverted."
"I never thought I'd live to see the day I call someone else a pervert."
Black Deadpool stared back.
"I never thought I'd be called a pervert by another me."
Deadpool shrugged.
"Life is full of surprises."
Black Deadpool narrowed his eyes.
"Then what do you usually watch?"
Deadpool smiled proudly.
"Hello Kitty."
"And My Little Pony."
"What man doesn't like pink things?"
Black Deadpool looked like his soul had left his body.
"Brother…"
"You're the real pervert!!!"
Deadpool nodded solemnly.
"Likewise."
---
Black Deadpool watched Deadpool scoop the minced meat into the pot.
He frowned.
"Just saying…"
"Wasting food is shameful."
Deadpool looked confused.
"What wasting food?"
Black Deadpool's eyes widened in horror.
"…You're not actually going to eat me, are you?!"
Deadpool tilted his head.
"Depends."
"Which actor plays your version?"
Black Deadpool answered instantly.
"Mads Mikkelsen!"
"My male god!"
"Hannibal Lecter!"
Deadpool patted his head gently like comforting a frightened pet.
"Relax."
"I'm not that kind of pervert."
He stirred the soup calmly.
"This pot is a surprise prepared for you."
"You're about to become your male god."
"How about it?"
"Surprised?"
Black Deadpool's eyes went full panic.
Not good.
Run!
He stuck his tongue out desperately, trying to wiggle himself toward the edge of the table.
Even if it was slow, it was better than dying.
Then—
He noticed something terrifying.
The ground was getting farther away.
Deadpool had picked him up again.
Deadpool carried the head in front of him.
Under Black Deadpool's horrified gaze, Deadpool scooped up noodles, meat, and boiling soup—
And shoved it into Black Deadpool's mouth.
Black Deadpool screamed immediately.
"No—HOT!"
"HOT HOT HOT!"
"The meat isn't even cooked!"
"My tongue!"
"My tongue!!!"
He gagged.
He coughed.
He screamed again.
Then—
He froze.
"…Huh?"
Black Deadpool blinked.
"…Why does it taste like beef?"
Deadpool shrugged cheerfully.
"Because you're built different."
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