Hello guys,
Welcome to my first fanfiction.
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In the city of New York, a man wearing a black suit with golden stripes walking through the streets.
his name was Wade Wilson. He was an expert in energy research and had completed a Ph.D. in the field.
He also held a high-paying job in a prestigious laboratory.
One day, while working on a project aimed at enhancing human strength, a sudden explosion occurred—one of the energy tanks had malfunctioned. As expected, he died in the blast.
Just when he thought it was all over, he began to feel something. He could feel his body.
He was shocked. From what he knew, the energy released in the explosion was enough to vaporize every living being within a 20-mile radius.
Wade awoke in a dark room, lying on a hard wooden bed, with strange equipment surrounding his body.
He slowly opened his eyes and saw a room with black reinforced steel walls.
There were no windows, no visible exits. It didn't feel like a prison—even prisons have beds and some kind of view, but this room had none of that.
As he tried to understand the situation, his head suddenly started hurting—intensely.
Memories that didn't belong to him flooded his mind. Memories of brutal battles and relentless killing.
He felt unbearable pain—so much pain that he wished he could die again.
After what felt like an eternity, the pain slowly faded and the memories stopped coming.
Then, he finally understood where he was.
He had died… but somehow, he had been transported into the Marvel Universe.
And not just as anyone—but as the infamous Deadpool.
"Of all the people in this universe… why the hell did I become him?"
damn, this motherf******
I mean, seriously?
This guy's got a healing factor so broken he might as well be immortal—sure.
But super strength? Nope. Flight? Nada. God-tier powers? Hell no.
Just endless pain, trauma, and a mouth that never shuts up.
Damn.
Why, God?
You had the whole buffet of heroes out there. Iron Man, Doctor Strange, even freaking Spider-Man.
But no. You gave me Deadpool.
As I sat there in my puddle of frustration and existential dread, something clicked.
Wait... this isn't right.
Deadpool didn't wake up in a place like this. From what I remember, he got his powers from the same Weapon X program that screwed with Wolverine. They stitched his mouth shut, tortured him, and he fought Wolverine—got his ass kicked, too.
So... why the hell am I here?
Why does this feel... different?
I tried to move. Arms. Legs. Fingers. Nothing.
I could feel my body, but I couldn't move a damn thing.
Only my eyes responded.
I blinked. Once. Twice. Yup. Still stuck like a broken action figure in a collector's box.
Great. Just great.
What kind of messed-up, bootleg Deadpool variant am I supposed to be?
He tried to move his body but he can feel his body but can't move it.
From what I remembered from novels, in situations like mc usually got some system right.
"System," wade said out hopping for robotic voice or glowing screen.
"System! this was your moment to shine".
He waited.
Nothing.
He tried shouting, whispering, thinking it real hard.
Still nothing.
"...Well, I kind of figured."
"All those novels are nothing but shitt"
He sighed.
"There's no system or whatever."
Just as he tried to move again, there was a sudden sound.
In that dark room, light started filling the space.
The sound of footsteps echoed louder with each passing second.
A shadow appeared beside him, tall and still.
To be continued...