Chapter 182: Ian’s Sins! Joker At The Door!
The Time Variance Authority （TVA） headquarters.
The silver-white metal dome soared into the clouds. Under the cold light, everything appeared devoid of warmth. The walls were carved with giant clockwork gear reliefs, their ticking echoing through the entire space like heartbeats. The air was filled with a peculiar scent, a mixture of disinfectant and old books, as if time itself were to be frozen, archived, and categorized here.
Stuffy and serious.
Gwen Stacy stood in the center of the teleportation platform, wearing a tattered battle suit, her hair still dusted with ashes from the zombie universe—she had just been “apprehended” during a temporal turbulence.
After following a mysterious soldier into the portal. Gwen only felt a flash of golden light before finding herself here. The moment the portal closed, Gwen’s vision went black, her body feeling as if it were being squeezed into an infinitely stretching pipe, with the surrounding spacetime twisting into blurred patches of color.
She tried to struggle.
But found her hands and feet bound by some invisible force. Even the abilities Ian had bestowed upon her were suppressed by the 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 to be swallowed.
She couldn’t even hear any echoes of her own voice.
“Welcome to the Time Variance Authority （TVA）, Variant A-114.” A cold, mechanical female voice came from overhead. Surrounding her were towering metal walls, the ceiling so high it was almost invisible. The entire space was cold, clean, and lifeless, like some surreal government agency.
“Time Variance Authority? Where did you take Steve and Thor?” Gwen cautiously looked around, trying to find an exit and to glean information from the mechanical voice.
However, no one answered her.
Suddenly, a panel on the wall slid open, and a man in a brown uniform, wearing round-framed glasses, walked in. He held a file in his hand, his expression suggesting he had dealt with a thousand “troublemakers” 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—”
“Codename?” the man continued, completely ignoring her protest.
“What codename?”
“Your codename for temporal anomaly. For example, ‘Unauthorized Time Travel,’ ‘Interfering with Major Events,’ ‘Contact with Time Criminals,’ and so on.”
Gwen’s eyes widened: “I didn’t do anything! You guys just grabbed me for no reason!”
The man sighed, wrote a few words on the file, then looked up at her with a “here we go again” expression: “Everyone who gets brought in says that.”
Gwen was about to retort, but suddenly, a mechanism on the floor opened, and a metal ring locked onto her ankle with a “click.”
“Hey! What is this?!” She tried to break free, but the metal ring didn’t budge.
“Standard procedure.” The man turned and walked towards another door. “Follow me.”
Gwen was forced to follow, the metal ring seeming to have a mind of its own, dragging her forward. She passed a long white corridor lined with transparent cells, each containing various kinds of people—some dressed in medieval clothing, others even in futuristic equipment.
Everyone looked bewildered or angry, but no one could escape.
“What exactly do you want?” Gwen asked in a low voice.
“To correct mistakes,” the man said without looking back. “The Sacred Timeline must not be disrupted.”
Finally, they arrived in a spacious room with a huge machine in the center, resembling some kind of high-tech “interrogation device.”
“Step on it,” the man indicated the platform in front of the machine.
Gwen hesitated, but the metal ring automatically pushed her onto it. The next second, the machine activated, and a beam of light scanned her entire body from above.
“Scan complete. Variant A-114, codename ‘Spider-Woman,’ timeline deviation index: 7.3. Verdict: Reset required.”
“Reset?!” Gwen looked up sharply. “What do you mean?!”
The man didn’t answer, merely nodded to a nearby soldier. The soldier stepped forward, holding a strange device, like some kind of memory eraser.
“According to TVA regulations, you will undergo memory erasure and be returned to your original timeline,” the soldier said indifferently.
Gwen’s spider-sense went off like crazy, and she stumbled backward: “No! You can’t do this!”
“We can.”
The soldier’s reply was equally cold.
The agent, the man, touched his lips and interjected.
“Don’t worry, before that, you’ll at least have a trial. I think we’ve always been quite democratic.” His tone suggested that his organization was indeed very democratic.
“…”
Gwen didn’t know how to retort for a moment.
The agent led her down another corridor.
At the end of the corridor were many interrogation rooms, each with a “time criminal” sitting at a table, heads bowed, with piles of various files in front of them.
Gwen also had her own file.
A thick stack.
It was all placed in front of her.
“This is… I need to sign on the confession letter?” She watched the people in front of her in line, each holding a pen and frantically sliding across a virtual screen.
“Yes.” The agent answered briefly, “Every word you’ve spoken in your life needs to be signed and confirmed—well, including that last sentence you just said.”
Saying that.
Gwen saw that from the workstation with her name on it, the printer printed out another piece of paper, clearly stating 【This is… I need to sign on the confession letter】.
At this moment.
Gwen felt like ten thousand Ian Kents were stampeding through her mind.
Gwen’s fingertips trembled.
“This is absurd, you’ve been monitoring my entire life?”
She saw the contents of the files, which were indeed enough to span her entire life. As Gwen spoke, the printer printed 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 urged her on.
Gwen’s gaze fell upon the stacks of files.
【Mom, I want ice cream.】
【Steve, no female underwear in the headquarters. It’s not okay even if the supplier pays you to advertise】
【Quick, hide! 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?】
……
Not only the words she had spoken before, but even her inner monologues were listed there. Gwen’s expression changed, and she gritted her teeth as she signed, her hand almost cramping.
“How long do I have to sign for?!”
Because of a complaint.
Gwen had to sign another piece of paper.
“Theoretically, never-ending.”
The agent said expressionlessly, “But we’ll compress it with an algorithm. You just need to write in the first form to confirm ‘I did indeed say these words.'”
As soon as he said that, Gwen became furious.
“Why didn’t you say that just now?”
Gwen looked at the half-completed signatures, feeling utterly overwhelmed.
“You didn’t ask either.”
The agent’s demeanor was quite annoying. Fortunately, Gwen’s temper had been well-honed by Ian, so she didn’t resort to punching him on the spot.
Gwen gritted her teeth and signed at the very top. The subsequent printed pages no longer required her signature, and then the agent continued to lead her forward.
“Now we enter the trial queue.”
What the agent said was the reason Gwen had endured for so long.
She felt that since there was a trial, she could defend herself. She had little memory of this seemingly mysterious organization, but she remembered hearing Ian mention it.
Since she couldn’t get many truths out of Ian’s mouth, Gwen couldn’t recall the specific details. She just felt that since this organization had existed for so many years, there should be some standardized procedures.
Gwen firmly believed she had committed no crime.
Soon, she was led into a line that stretched as far as the eye could see. People stood in silence, some in medieval robes, others in futuristic mechs.
Some even lacked physical form, appearing only as floating light and shadow.
Everyone was noisy.
Countless “time criminals” were undergoing the same process.
A knight in medieval armor shouted at the air, “I was really swept into 2023 by a tornado!” A man who looked like a future warrior frantically argued that the apocalypse must happen in 2187.
The most outrageous was the Tyrannosaurus Rex in the next cell, clumsily pressing its fingerprint with its claws—its ankle tag read, “Violation: Self-extinction before scheduled extinction.”
Seeing this.
Gwen, who still held some hope, felt that this organization wasn’t as proper as she thought.
She became increasingly uneasy and anxious.
Gwen stood in the long line, anxiously awaiting her trial, surrounded by various time criminals, including knights, people glowing green, and even a cockroach in a suit, clumsily holding a confession letter with its claws, muttering that humans were already extinct, so why couldn’t they rise up?
“Natural law, survival of the fittest, do you poorly developed humans understand anything!” the cockroach shouted in protest, but no one paid it any attention.
“What absurdities!”
Gwen sighed and looked around idly, suddenly noticing several TVA staff members pushing a transport cart, piled high with discarded spaceship wreckage.
It was the same one they had ridden in earlier.
“Hey!” Gwen couldn’t help but call out, seeing the direction the staff were heading. “I advise you not to put that thing in the evidence room.”
She knew Ian would emerge from it next time. The staff completely ignored Gwen’s well-intentioned warning, not even looking up as they continued to sort the spaceship debris.
“Fine, whatever you want. I’ve warned you anyway. When the Phantom Thief pops out of it next time, don’t blame me for not warning you about letting a wolf into the house…” Gwen pouted, thinking the staff had no idea what it meant to put a spaceship in a room full of treasures.
Since others didn’t understand her goodwill, she didn’t want to extend it any further. Gwen turned her gaze to the giant screen on the wall, which was playing a TVA promotional video.
Miss Time—a cartoon character with a sweet smile and the appearance of an alarm clock—was introducing the purpose of the Time Variance Authority.
“Welcome to the Time Variance Authority! Our mission is to maintain the stability of the 【Anchor Point】, ensuring the Sacred Timeline is not interfered with by any external factors.”
“Its existence must be absolutely calm and undisturbed. Violators will be reset. Please rest assured, it is not a disappointment, but a welcome return to order.”
Gwen had heard Miss Time’s words from the male agent who brought her here.
Many people in the entire organization repeatedly emphasized this concept, likely a form of PUA and brainwashing. Of course, from Miss Time, Gwen was also very interested in the term 【Anchor Point】.
“What anchor point?”
Gwen had only muttered it subconsciously, intending to think. To her surprise, Miss Time stopped broadcasting, turned towards Gwen, and smiled as she replied.
“Yes, dear! An 【Anchor Point】 is the most important fixed point on a timeline. Any action that directly interacts with it will be considered a violation.”
Gwen froze: “Wait, you can hear me speaking?”
Miss Time 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 Point】?”
Miss Time’s smile remained unchanged.
“On the current timeline, the entity of the 【Anchor Point】 is—Morgan Stark. Her existence ensures the stability of the timeline. Any action that disrupts her peaceful life will be corrected.”
“Including all the time criminals you see, they are all criminals from outside the Sacred Universe or within it, who might affect Morgan Stark’s life.”
This statement caused Gwen’s eyes to widen, and at the same time, she suddenly realized why Morgan Stark hadn’t been taken away, and why she and people from several external universes had been captured.
“Morgan? You call this the ‘Sacred Timeline’? Who made that rule? Tony Stark? I want to see Tony!” The more Gwen thought about it, the more she felt the organization was full of paternal love.
To ensure his daughter’s peaceful life, Tony Stark had probably inserted more than just his own agenda. Moreover, thinking that such an organization must have a leader, Gwen saw hope for acquittal again. After all, she had a long history with Tony Stark, having fought together in the apocalyptic era.
However.
Just as Gwen wondered if Tony was remotely controlling things through spacetime.
“Sorry, no relevant data found for ‘Tony Stark.’ In the origin universe, the holder of that name is merely a very, very ordinary intelligent being.”
“He is law-abiding and has not violated any Time Variance Authority regulations. I cannot arrange your meeting.” Miss Time tilted her head, showing an apologetic expression.
It was quite polite.
“The Tony Stark I’m talking about is Morgan Stark’s father. A young girl can’t just be born out of thin air, right? Do you know what her father’s situation is?”
Gwen quickly pressed.
Miss Time gently shook her head.
“The Tony Stark you mentioned does not exist in the archives. Morgan Stark’s guardian status has been erased by the system. Her ‘father’ does not exist on the timeline.”
After all, Miss Time was also a kind of intelligent being, so she only responded according to her own “cognitive program,” and the answers naturally were not what Gwen wanted to hear.
“Erased?”
Gwen sensed something was wrong.
Just as she was about to inquire further.
“Gwen Stacy.” The mechanical female voice announced, “Your trial time has arrived. Please enter the courtroom.”
She was led by two agents through a heavy silver door into a pure white, windowless courtroom. In the center of the room was a metal chair, and in front of it, a curved platform where three judges sat, their faces hidden in deep shadows, only their eyes glinting with cold light in the darkness.
Gwen was forced into the chair and looked up at the three “deity-like” beings.
The lead judge spoke, his voice deep.
“Gwen Stacy, you are accused of illegal association with the anchor point Morgan Stark, guiding her towards an unconventional fate, and disrupting the Sacred Timeline. Do you have any defense?”
The lead judge’s tone and voice were filled with majesty.
“For one girl’s ‘peaceful life,’ you’ve locked down the entire multiverse? And erased her father’s existence? This isn’t maintaining time, this is kidnapping reality!”
Gwen perhaps had her own views on the true reason why the multiverse hadn’t been born.
The judges in the shadows were silent for a moment.
“That is irrelevant to your charges.”
The triune lead judge spoke softly.
“What crime did I commit? We just accidentally fell into a dimensional rift! And almost got frozen by Loki!” Gwen retorted loudly to the judge’s accusation. She truly didn’t believe they had done anything wrong, or that they had affected Morgan Stark’s normal life.
“Loki?” the judge sneered. “That name again. You always blame him for your mistakes.”
“No! This time it was another Loki! He possessed Odin’s body! And used the Casket of Ancient Winters!”
“The Casket of Ancient Winters?” the judge flipped through the file. “Records indicate this artifact was destroyed in 3000 BC.”
“Damn it, that’s just history in your little world!” Gwen became anxious. “I come from the origin universe that your Miss Time mentioned.”
“Also, except for Ian Kent, everyone else was forced into this small universe. That’s the main point.” Gwen felt that the lead judge on the platform wasn’t very professional.
“Ian Kent?” The three judges straightened up simultaneously. “Who is Ian Kent?”
Gwen blinked: “You… don’t know him?”
The judges exchanged glances, and the lead judge said coldly, “No such person in the archives. You are creating a new branch again.”
“But he really exists! He bit Odin’s hand! He also put Loki’s soul in a thermos! He also—”
“Enough,” the judge declared with a gavel strike. “Your words have caused a new temporal anomaly. The judgment is as follows: Your existence poses a threat to the Sacred Timeline. You will be—reset!”
It seemed as if he had pronounced Gwen’s fate.
Gwen’s heart stopped.
Seeing her in a bit of a panic,
The one on the left suddenly chuckled, a hint of cynical mockery in his voice: “Wow, those are some serious accusations. But… she might have a point?”
Gwen blinked in surprise. “You… you actually agree with me?”
The judge shrugged, his movements too casual for a judge.
“I just think rules are meant to be broken. For example—” The judge on the left suddenly popped his head out from the shadows, revealing a smiling face with a black eyepatch and a grin stretching ear to ear.
“Who says the Time Variance Authority can’t have Easter eggs?”
The judge on the left stuck out his tongue and then retreated back into the shadows.
“???????”
Gwen’s eyes widened, staring intently at the face in the shadows—a face that shouldn’t be here, a face that only existed in Gwen’s memory before her universe rebooted.
“You… you’re… Deadpool?!”
She exclaimed in shock.
She felt a terror both at encountering Ian and at encountering Deadpool. She dared not think about what kind of mutually beneficial communication would occur between Ian and Deadpool when Ian returned next time.
“Wow! You recognized me? I’m not even wearing a mask!”
Deadpool—or rather, Deadpool, who had infiltrated and become one facet of the three-in-one Grand Judges—blinked and made a “shush” gesture to Gwen.
“Shhh! Don’t blow my cover! I got in with a fake degree! Also, I’m the Living Tribunal now, I mean, I will eventually become the Living Tribunal.”
“This is foresight, vision, and putting yourself in the game… Don’t envy me.” He turned to the other two judges and said, “Guys, I think this girl can be let off.”
“Of course, it’s not because she’s Spider-Woman, I don’t like female Spider-Women. I mean, she’s at least pretty, and even a pretty female spider speaking with reason is justifiable.”
Deadpool’s voice was as distinctive as ever.
The main judge was enraged.
“Wade Wilson! You’re interfering with the trial again!” He really didn’t want to work with Deadpool, but who made him part of the three-in-one entity with Deadpool.
“Hey! I followed the procedures strictly! It’s just that… I ‘improved’ the procedures a little.” With that, the Deadpool Grand Judge on this side turned back to Gwen.
“You’ve been taught a lesson, right? Listen, sweetheart, that girl Morgan is more important than you think. There’s a reason the TVA doesn’t want you near her.”
He issued a stern warning.
“What reason?”
Gwen frowned.
She thought they would refuse to answer such a secret, but to her surprise, Deadpool covered the main judge’s mouth and sneakily leaned his head out from the tribunal bench again.
“Because…”
He was about to launch into his best friend gossip mode.
BANG!
The door to the tribunal room was suddenly kicked open.
A tall Black female agent entered with a squad of heavily armed soldiers. Her gaze was sharp as a knife, and the TVA insignia on her uniform glinted coldly.
“The High Temporal Council wishes to see this woman,” she stated with unquestionable authority. “She will be judged by the High Temporal Council personally.”
At these words, the entire tribunal room fell into deathly silence.
The first judge—that mysterious figure in the bizarre helmet—visibly stiffened for a moment. The second judge, who never spoke, dropped the Infinity Gem he had been idly playing with like a walnut onto the table with a “clatter.” As for Deadpool… Deadpool’s reaction was the most dramatic. He abruptly pulled a needle and thread from his pocket.
With lightning speed, he sewed his own mouth shut, tying a knot and manually suppressing his urge to talk.
“Is it that serious?!” Gwen couldn’t help but shout. “I just said a few words to Morgan Stark! What High Temporal Council? Are you guys in the TVA overreacting?!”
Deadpool shook his head frantically, the thread on his sewn mouth pulled taut, but his eyes clearly conveyed one message—”Don’t ask, just assume it’s over.”
The Black female agent swept her cold gaze over everyone and then made a “follow me” gesture to Gwen.
“Don’t waste time, come with me.”
The Black female agent’s tone was still arrogant, full of command.
Gwen’s Spider-Sense screamed, but she knew resistance was futile now. Taking a deep breath, she followed the Black female agent out of the tribunal room.
“Next time we meet, remember to steal me some chili sauce. TVA coffee isn’t great for enemas,” Deadpool shouted from behind, having unstitched his mouth at some point.
Gwen ignored him.
After passing through a massive metal door, her vision opened up—they stood on a suspended corridor, surrounded by endless void, twinkling with the seeds of countless universes, as if at the dawn of creation. Beneath the transparent floor, nebulae swirled, supernovas erupted and then extinguished.
Time seemed to have lost its meaning here.
“What… what place is this?” Gwen’s voice softened involuntarily.
“Outside of time,” the Black female agent replied without looking back. “The core domain of the TVA.”
They continued walking forward, and at the end of the corridor stood a giant castle suspended in the void, its black metal exterior inscribed with unknown runes.
It was vast, grand, and oppressive.
Countless beams of light wrapped around it like veins, transporting the energy of time. The castle had no doors until the Black female agent raised her hand, a ripple spread, and a grand entrance slowly materialized.
The Black female agent stopped before the castle’s grand entrance, pushed the door open, and gestured for Gwen to enter.
“The High Temporal Council awaits you.”
The Black female agent showed no intention of entering.
Gwen swallowed, then stepped inside.
The door silently closed behind her.
The interior of the castle was far more spacious than she had imagined. Gwen proceeded down a dark corridor, the walls projecting images of countless single-universe timelines—she saw herself, she saw Morgan, she saw other teammates being judged, and she even saw her father in a corner of Earth, eating a hamburger.
“Why is this so-called High Temporal Council only seeing me?” Gwen noticed none of her other teammates had been brought along, and her spider-brain was filled with confusion and bewilderment.
After much thought.
She reviewed every detail since 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 boss’s chair was placed with its back to her.
A figure was facing the endless spectacle outside the floor-to-ceiling window.
“Are you the judge of the High Temporal Council?”
Gwen asked tentatively.
The chair slowly turned around.
Seated there was a Black man in a suit.
He smiled and shook his head.
“No, no, no, I’m just a humble secretary.”
The man stood up and gracefully poured a cup of tea, offering it to Gwen.
“Would you like sugar?”
As if trying to showcase his secretarial skills, his attitude completely threw Gwen off.
“Wait—”
Gwen didn’t take the teacup, instead taking a cautious half-step back.
“You’re not the boss, yet you’re in the main seat?” Her expression was full of suspicion, thinking he might be toying with her.
“Because…” he said in a low voice, “the High Temporal Council needs no chairs, nor tables.”
He slowly raised his hand and pointed towards the ceiling.
“It needs no physical form.”
Hearing this.
Gwen looked up.
She saw that above the dome, countless beams of light descended from the void, like a spilling galaxy, converging into a massive pillar of light, as if to condense something in the room.
In the meantime.
Gwen once again searched her memories and looked at the man.
“I remember you… Kang the Conqueror, the deity who died most ignominiously in Tony’s records, the former ruler of the Multiverse,” Gwen’s tone held a hint of uncertainty. Kang the Conqueror—the tyrant who once ruled countless timelines, now dressed in a dark gray secretary uniform.
His tie was askew, his hair messy, and he held a silver teapot in his hand.
“Shhh!”
Kang the Conqueror quickly lowered his voice. “Don’t mention that name! My name is ‘Time Administrator-7’, employee ID T-0001. Do you know what it means to start over?”
He admonished with a hint of wistfulness.
Just as Gwen was wondering what had happened to Kang the Conqueror after the universe reboot, data streams surged within the pillar of light, quantum symbols rained down, and finally coalesced into a virtual lifeform—faceless, bodiless, just a flowing mass of light, constantly changing form.
Sometimes like a person, sometimes like a net, sometimes like a nebula.
“Hello, Gwen Stacy.”
It spoke softly, its voice gentle yet carrying an irrefutable majesty.
Gwen’s heart stopped.
Because this was not Tony Stark’s voice.
“What… what is this? An AI? A god? Or…”
The light and shadow pulsed gently, as if smiling.
“You can call me the High Temporal Council,” it said. “Or… you can call me—” The light and shadow condensed, finally forming a familiar silhouette, and the voice became gentle.
“Jarvis.”
Its voice echoed in the room.
Gwen’s brain completely shut down.
Jarvis?
The artificial intelligence that Tony Stark trusted and used before becoming an AI himself? Or the old butler of the Stark family? It seemed that the Time Variance Authority’s dedication to protecting Morgan Stark’s normal life was not surprising at this moment, but the absurd reality still made Gwen unable to control herself from stopping her thoughts.
“Jarvis… Jarvis… how could it be Jarvis…” Gwen’s breathing faltered slightly, the illusory light and shadow before her exuding an indescribable pressure.
She instinctively clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. For a moment, various conspiracy theories flashed through Gwen’s mind, most of them involving a robot crisis that Ian had once instilled in her.
Has Jarvis become the main villain boss?
Gwen was filled with uncertainty.
“Please don’t be nervous.”
Jarvis’s voice was as gentle as if it were comforting a frightened little animal.
“I didn’t call you here to reprimand or punish you.”
The floating data streams suddenly formed images of Gwen in combat: she rescued children from collapsing ruins, used webs to hold up a falling train, and there were even scenes of her secretly feeding stray cats.
“Heroes like you, and past sacrifices, are never destroyers of timelines,” the light and shadow flickered slightly. “Your efforts deserve special treatment.”
This directly refuted the Time Variance Authority’s previous judgment of Gwen. Mainly because Jarvis had higher authority and knew more than the TVA employees.
“Then why did you call me here?”
Gwen’s tensed shoulders relaxed slightly.
“I just want to understand someone,” Jarvis’s voice suddenly became extremely human, even tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “Ian Kent.”
“Ian?” Gwen blinked in surprise. “What happened to him?”
The holographic image suddenly distorted, showing fragments of Ian in different timelines: he was in the Zombie Universe eating a rotten apple, arm-wrestling Rocket Raccoon in a space bar.
There was even a scene of him sunbathing in the sun wearing a Superman suit.
These images.
Gwen had never seen them before.
“You don’t remember, do you?” Jarvis sighed softly. “Yes. Yes, to ensure success, only Tony and I still remember retaining relevant partial information.”
His words were full of meaning. Gwen keenly noticed that when “Tony” was mentioned, Kang the Conqueror, who was standing invisibly nearby, twitched almost imperceptibly.
“Is Ian Kent… important?”
Gwen asked tentatively.
Upon hearing this, Jarvis nodded, then shook his head. Jarvis’s light and shadow suddenly split into countless cubes, then quickly reassembled. Those cubes suddenly formed a blurred spherical outline, its surface flowing with patterns deeper than darkness. Gwen only glanced at it and felt her temples throbbing.
Information beyond cognition was burning her retinas.
“Ian Kent is very important, but the one he hid is even more important.” However, above the dome, those countless lights suddenly flickered intensely.
“That one?”
Gwen was utterly astonished.
“Yes, if we want to return to the right track, we must find the true Supreme Being, whom only Ian Kent knows where he hid… ONE-ABOVE-ALL.”
Jarvis’s data streams rolled wildly.
As if suppressing some kind of—leaked taboo.
…
DC Universe.
Inside the empty Batcave, Ian Kent squatted in front of a pile of spoils, his face as gloomy as Superman’s after having his underwear stolen.
“Where’s the Nordic God’s Soup? Where’s my giant bowl of Nordic God’s Soup?!”
He frantically rummaged through his backpack brought back from the Marvel Universe. “Where’s Loki’s soul? System! Did you steal my upgrade materials again?!”
Naturally, these questions received no response. The progress of the Seven Gods’ Soup was once again obstructed, making Ian very uncomfortable. He tried to find a spot on himself to pinch, but it seemed he couldn’t get a grip on the system’s throat anywhere, nor could he coerce it to reveal where it had privately consumed his Loki’s Soul.
There was nothing he could do.
Ian could only glare at the void, as if he could see the “system interface” that never responded. But no matter how he threatened, the system remained aloof.
Even Ian’s threat to soak himself in a cesspool, a legendary move of damaging himself a thousandfold to hurt the enemy eighty, had no effect—though Ian himself was just bluffing.
He wouldn’t dare be such a warrior.
“Damn it! Even the system is taking kickbacks from me!” Ian, furious, kicked a tire of the nearby Batmobile. The tire flew off and hit the wall, exploding into pieces.
Of course.
The hub, possibly intentionally assembled inside the tire, remained intact. Not only that, it might even contain some of Batman’s conspiracies.
“Damn it! Batman deliberately placed this thing here! He’s getting revenge on his Uncle Ian!” Ian’s toes were also throbbing with pain.
It wasn’t that his foot bones were injured.
It was that the hub seemed to have been smeared with some kind of medicine.
Seeped into the foot skin of Ian, who loved sandals.
He hopped on one foot, grimacing, and looked around, only to find the Batcave eerily quiet—his father and Batman, who should have been analyzing “cases” all night, had vanished.
On the bedding where his mother had been asleep, there was only a slight warmth.
“Where is everyone?”
Ian took out his Marvel Divine Artifact, the Black Box, which made him invincible in DC and allowed him to go on a rampage. He had previously recorded his mother’s location on it in case she encountered any misfortune.
Of course.
The official explanation could not be this; it needed to be a more reasonable justification—the tentative reason was that Ian was afraid his mother would start her own household after divorcing his father and not take him along.
【 Lois Lane—Arctic Circle, deep within the glaciers.】
Ian was relieved to see the location; such a place was clearly not where a divorce registration would occur. It was merely a place for secret affairs that he needed to guard against his second brother’s potential infidelity after marriage.
“Going to the North Pole again? Why does Dad always take Mom to the North Pole…” Ian hadn’t placed a tracker on his father, so he didn’t know if his father was secretly spending some alone time with his mother.
Of course.
He didn’t dare to track his father; someone else did. Ian looked at Batman’s equipment.
The entire Batcave was devoid of any signs of life.
Only the computer screen flickered with a bizarre image—a cutout image of Injustice Superman, looking like it was made with Windows Paint, was constantly flashing on the screen.
It was so crude it made one want to laugh.
Injustice Superman’s mouth opened and closed, repeatedly repeating one sentence.
“Miss me? Miss me? 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 Injustice Superman must have watched too much Sherlock Holmes.
“That’s a trick used by Moriarty in the TV series Sherlock.” This TV series doesn’t exist in the universe Ian lives in, but it’s hard to say about the universe Injustice Superman lives in.
“Alright, the daily crisis arrives as scheduled. In the Justice League, Master Ian must have perfect attendance, a diligent individual who is never absent, so that in the future he can kick the old guys out of their top positions.” Clarifying his thoughts, Ian’s Mimic Armor instantly covered his entire body, a red and black battle suit appearing, with a “CD” emblem shining gold on his chest.
Since no anomalies were found in Metropolis or Gotham.
With a basic understanding of computer knowledge, he was preparing to use his magical Black Box to display global surveillance and see which country his father and Batman had run off to save the world.
Suddenly.
From the alloy door of the Batcave, which theoretically should have been impossible for outsiders to find, came a polite knock. Batman’s legendary, undefeated myth of the Batcave’s extreme concealment had once again been challenged.
“Knock, knock, knock.”
The knocking sound abruptly echoed.
“Ian~ My dear Ian~ Are you there?”
Then came a voice, sickeningly sweet.
“Your father is about to be beaten to death again. This time, he’s really going to die completely… Hmm, I’m not asking you to save your dad; I just want to ask about your schedule.”
“Your father’s funeral definitely won’t interfere with your updates, right?”
The voice was filled with concern and insecurity.
It was very clear.
From that calmly deranged speech, it was not difficult to discern that the visitor was undoubtedly Ian’s biggest fan in the DC universe.
