(A/n: i am really starting reconsider should i continue this story or not?)
The Observation Deck was quiet. Too quiet.
The usual hum of the servers — the steady rhythm of data pulsing through cables and screens — had died down to a faint whisper. Only the soft flicker of emergency lights remained, painting Alex's face in pale blue.
He sat at the console, still, his eyes locked on the single line of text that hadn't faded.
> [Player Shuri_TechQueen — Status: Unknown]
Every logical part of his mind told him to rest, to reboot the system safely, to wait for diagnostics.
But logic was useless now.
Shuri was gone.
Peter stood behind him, pacing restlessly. He had removed his mask, rubbing at his temples, trying to process what had just happened.
"Okay," he muttered, voice unsteady. "Let's just… recap. Doom hijacked your system, made creepy Alex clones, Shuri tried to fix it, you pulled the plug, and now she's—"
He stopped himself. Couldn't say the word.
Alex didn't look up. "Lost."
Peter swallowed hard. "Yeah. Lost."
The word hung there like a bruise.
---
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
The only sound was the faint tapping of Alex's fingers — not typing, just trembling.
He finally said, almost to himself, "She trusted me with her link."
"She trusted you because you've always come through," Peter said quickly. "We'll find her. We always do."
But Alex shook his head. "You don't get it. I didn't just lose her. I let her get pulled in. The system was collapsing and I still—"
He clenched his jaw, eyes burning. "I built this place to help. To fix things. But every time I push it, it pushes back harder."
Peter's voice softened. "You sound like Tony when he blamed himself for everything."
"That's not helping."
"Yeah," Peter sighed. "Didn't think it would."
---
Silence again — until the console beeped.
A weak signal flickered to life. Not a full player ID, just a fragment.
> [Signal Detected — Latveria Node Residual Code]
[Source Integrity: 7%]
[Voice Pattern Match: 63% — Possible: SHURI_TECHQUEEN]
Peter's head snapped up. "That's her!"
Alex leaned forward. "Or what's left of her."
The feed crackled — faint, distorted audio bled through.
> "Al…ex…? …he's… still… here…"
Then static.
Peter took a sharp breath. "She's alive."
Alex hesitated. His heart wanted to believe it. His brain whispered every reason not to.
But when the console chimed again with a location ping, he didn't even hesitate.
> [Signal Coordinates: Latveria Fragment Core – Sector D0M]
Peter frowned. "Wait. D-O-M? You're kidding me."
"Doom's initials," Alex murmured. "Of course it is."
---
Minutes later, the room was alive again. Alex rerouted his remaining GP reserves, opened the Rift Console, and began preparing a re-entry link.
Peter watched him work, the blue light reflecting off his determined face. "You sure about this? You just rebooted that place. It could still be unstable."
"It is unstable," Alex said flatly. "But so am I right now."
Peter smirked faintly despite himself. "Alright, that's the spirit. Half self-destructive, half heroic."
Alex allowed himself the smallest smile. "Shuri would've said the same."
The console beeped.
> [GP Required: 80]
[Available: 34]
The smile faded.
He exhaled slowly. "We don't have enough."
Peter blinked. "Can't we just—"
"Not unless I drain the central reactor."
"Which would do what?"
"Shut down every system. Permanently."
The two of them stood in silence again, the weight of the choice settling between them.
---
Peter finally spoke. "Okay, let's think this through. What if I go in alone? You keep the system running, I dive in from a stable node."
Alex shook his head. "You'd never make it to the core without my access keys. Doom's rewriting permissions as we speak."
"So we go together."
"No."
"Alex."
"No, Peter." His voice cracked louder than he intended. "If I go in there and something happens again, I can't lose you too."
Peter's expression hardened. "You won't. But if we don't try, we definitely lose her. You said it yourself — this system reacts to emotion. You built it that way. So stop thinking like a programmer."
Alex frowned. "And start thinking like what?"
"Like a friend."
---
The console beeped again. A new message flashed across the top:
> [System Reallocation Option Available]
[User GP Boost Available: COOPERATIVE SYNC — Shared Entry Mode]
Peter grinned. "See? Even your system's rooting for teamwork."
Alex hesitated, then looked at him. "This could burn out both avatars."
Peter shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time I got vaporized for a good cause."
"Spider-Man humor doesn't make this less insane."
"Maybe not. But it keeps it bearable."
Alex's jaw tightened. He looked back at the fading signal — the broken line of Shuri's voice still echoing in his head.
Then he reached for the Rift Control.
"Alright," he whispered. "We go together."
---
A ring of light formed around them — the re-entry portal humming low and dangerous.
Peter slid his mask back on, stepping into the glow. "Round two. Let's hope Doom's not big on déjà vu."
Alex joined him, his voice low. "If he's learning from every encounter… then this time, he'll be ready for us."
Peter's tone shifted serious. "Then let's make sure we're ready for him."
The portal flared — data streams converging, colors folding inward until the Observation Deck vanished.
---
They landed not in the castle this time, but in a vast black void.
Code fragments floated like embers — pieces of Shuri's last battle suspended midair.
In the distance, faint green light pulsed — steady, rhythmic, alive.
Alex's scanner locked onto it instantly. "That's her."
Peter nodded. "Then let's bring her home."
But as they stepped forward, the air around them shimmered — and Doom's voice rose again, colder than before.
> "You returned. Admirable… but futile."
Green fire erupted around them, forming the outline of a throne.
And sitting upon it — glowing, fractured, but alive — was Shuri.
Except… something in her eyes wasn't hers anymore.
The throne wasn't made of metal or stone — it was made of data.
Lines of code ran down its edges like molten veins, green and black flickering in rhythm with a heart that wasn't supposed to exist.
And on that throne, Shuri sat — poised, still, watching them.
Her armor shimmered between her Wakandan design and Doom's emerald tint. Half her face glowed with the clean blue of her neural interface; the other half was traced with dark, angular markings that looked like fractured runes.
Peter whispered, "That… doesn't look like her usual upgrade."
Alex took a cautious step forward, scanning the air. His interface screamed warnings.
> [Foreign Code Detected — Doom.OS Fragment Active]
[Host Identity: SHURI_TECHQUEEN — CORRUPTION LEVEL: 67%]
"Shuri," Alex called, voice steady despite the tremor beneath it, "can you hear me?"
Her head tilted slightly. "Alex?" The word was small, almost human — then distorted, voice echoing twice in perfect sync. "Alex… you shouldn't be here."
Peter lowered his stance. "Yeah, well, we don't do 'shouldn't be here.' We do 'save our friends from evil code wizards.'"
For a second, it almost worked — Shuri's lips curved like she might've smiled. Then her expression hardened, and Doom's tone layered over hers:
> "You seek what you cannot reclaim. The mind you knew is gone."
Green static surged, and a pulse of corrupted code hit the ground.
Peter leapt aside, web-shooters flaring digital strands that caught the blast midair. "He's still puppeteering her!"
Alex's eyes darted to his console feed. "Not fully — she's fighting him. Look at the fluctuations."
> [Core Sync Instability: 14.8%]
[Probability of Host Override: 32% and rising.]
"Shuri!" Alex shouted. "If you can hear me — remember Wakanda! Remember the lab! You made me that stupid coffee mod that kept overflowing—"
Her eyes flickered. Blue light surged against green. For a second, her voice came through clean:
"Alex… he's… inside everything…"
Then the tone dropped an octave.
> "And soon, I will be too."
She raised her hand — Doom's power focusing through her palm like a cannon.
Peter didn't wait. "MOVE!"
The blast tore through the code-space, shredding fragments of the void into ribbons of light. Alex dove, hitting the ground hard, sparks skittering across his avatar's armor.
He rolled up, coughing. "Okay, new plan — we don't talk to possessed Shuri!"
Peter landed beside him, smirking despite the chaos. "I mean, technically, that's your ex-coding partner, not mine."
"Not the time, Peter!"
"Just saying! Banter helps me focus!"
---
They dodged another blast. The energy distortion rippled like thunder underwater, folding the space around them.
Alex gritted his teeth and opened his holo-console mid-combat. His hands blurred over the light keys.
"Her neural link's not fully merged. I can isolate Doom's fragment if I get close enough to tag her core feed!"
Peter web-zipped past a spiraling line of corrupted code. "Define 'close enough.'"
"Like— arm's reach."
"Fantastic. I'll distract Doomzilla, you do your hacker magic."
Peter vaulted onto a fragment of floating data, flinging twin webs that wrapped around Shuri's arm. "Hey Doomshuri! Remember me? The guy who broke your firewall last time?"
She snarled, voice splitting again.
> "Arrogant insect!"
Her free hand slashed through the air, releasing another blast. Peter used the momentum to swing above it — the blast barely missed, scorching his avatar's leg.
Alex took the opening, sprinting forward.
Every step distorted the ground; fragments cracked beneath his feet like glass. His display flickered as proximity alarms screamed.
> [Proximity Alert — Doom Core Signature at 92% Intensity]
[Warning: Neural Feedback Risk — Extreme]
He didn't care. He lunged, pressing his palm against Shuri's chestplate — directly over her interface port.
The world exploded in light.
---
For a moment, Alex wasn't in the code-space anymore. He was inside her memories.
He saw flashes — Shuri in her lab, laughing at his clumsy debugging jokes; Peter handing her a prototype visor; the three of them arguing over whose AI companion was cooler.
Then it shifted. Green runes crept across the walls, swallowing the light.
Doom's face appeared in the reflection of a shattered lens.
> "Do you think intelligence grants immunity, child?" the voice thundered inside her mind. "Knowledge is my dominion. Every line of code — every spark of creation — bends to me."
Shuri stood her ground.
"You underestimate what creation really means."
And then — the connection snapped.
---
Back in the void, Alex was thrown back violently, tumbling across broken code fragments.
Peter caught him before he hit a collapsing data shard. "You alive, man?"
"Define alive," Alex groaned, coughing static. His HUD was full of red warnings.
> [Neural Sync Success: Partial — 41%]
[Foreign Fragment Quarantined: 23%]
[System Overload Imminent]
Peter looked past him — Shuri was trembling, still on her knees, flickering between blue and green.
Her hands clutched her head like she was fighting something invisible.
"Alex," she whispered, her voice overlapping again, "help me… before he takes it all…"
Alex forced himself up. "I'm not losing you again."
He opened the Rift Console, typing commands so fast the system barely kept up. "Peter, I need you to stabilize her connection. Anchor her to the Deck's frequency."
"On it," Peter said, slapping a webline against the floating fragments, creating a crude energy tether.
The light around Shuri brightened — blue pushing against green. The corrupted runes shattered like glass.
> [Core Integrity: Rising — 78%... 82%... 89%]
"Come on, come on," Alex muttered.
Then, suddenly —
A deep rumble filled the air.
From behind the collapsing data walls, a massive shadow emerged.
Doom's avatar — reconstructed, towering, its armor now fused with raw, pulsing data energy.
> "You trespass on my rebirth," it thundered. "You will not take what is mine."
Peter stared. "Okay. So he upgraded. Again."
Alex clenched his fists, standing beside Shuri's flickering form.
"She's not yours, Doom. She never was."
Doom's eyes flared. "Then you'll join her in oblivion."
The digital sky cracked open.
The digital sky split apart like glass under pressure.
Crimson lightning surged through the void, and Doom's reconstructed avatar stepped fully into view — ten stories tall, cloaked in living code. His armor pulsed with stolen fragments from every realm he had infected: Wakandan runes, Stark schematics, Asgardian glyphs.
He was a walking virus wearing the shape of a god.
> "You believe you've won," his voice boomed, shaking the void itself. "You think you can rewrite what is inevitable?"
Alex's fingers tightened around his console. "I think inevitability is overrated."
Peter fired a webline straight into Doom's chestplate. "Hey, ugly! Remember me?" He yanked, swung around the giant's head, and planted a hard kick against one glowing eye.
The blow barely made the giant flinch, but it drew his attention — exactly what Alex needed.
He sprinted toward Shuri. She was kneeling again, her avatar flickering wildly, code bleeding from her like sand through glass. "Shuri," he said, voice shaking. "You have to wake up. You're the only one who can anchor this system now."
Her eyes fluttered open — twin orbs of blue and green light warring for dominance. "I… can't hold him…"
"Yes, you can," Alex insisted. "You built this world. He's just squatting in your creation."
Her gaze met his — recognition flared. For a second, the old Shuri shone through. "Then let's evict him."
---
Peter landed beside them, panting, his health bar flashing red. "So, plan?"
Alex's fingers flew over his interface. "We drain Doom's root access. You keep him busy while Shuri channels her system key through my console."
"Got it. Distract the demon-bot while you two play cosmic hacking duet. Easy."
"Peter—"
He was already gone, launching himself skyward with a grin. "Don't worry! I'm the king of bad ideas!"
---
Doom roared, his hand sweeping upward. A wave of raw code energy blasted toward Peter like a tidal surge. Peter twisted through it, webs flaring, every movement a desperate dance between pixels and light.
"Okay," he shouted, dodging another blast, "note to self — next time we do team bonding, let's just get pizza!"
Meanwhile, Alex linked his system core to Shuri's. Their data threads intertwined — blue and white, flickering in sync.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded once. "On three."
"One."
Doom raised his arm again.
"Two."
Peter's webline snapped, flinging him downward in a free fall.
"Three!"
Their combined code exploded outward in a wave of light.
---
The void convulsed.
Lines of Wakandan script spiraled from Shuri's hands, wrapping around Doom's massive frame. Each symbol burned into his armor like a seal, tearing fragments of him away. Alex amplified the current, pushing every last bit of his remaining GP into the sequence.
> [Gaming Points: 0]
[System Stability: Critical]
[Overload Imminent]
Peter landed hard beside them, raising his web-shooters. "Whatever you're doing, do it faster!"
"I'm trying!" Alex shouted back. "He's overriding the failsafes!"
Doom's laughter rattled the air. "You cannot erase me. I am the algorithm of domination!"
Shuri's eyes narrowed. "Then it's time for a system update."
She slammed her hand into the ground. A surge of light erupted beneath Doom — a massive Wakandan pattern blazing across the floor. The circuitry pulsed like a heartbeat, then detonated in pure, cleansing energy.
For a split second, the entire world went white.
---
When the light faded, Doom was gone.
Not defeated — deleted.
All that remained was static, falling like snow.
Shuri collapsed, exhausted. Peter rushed to catch her before she hit the ground.
"Got you," he murmured, setting her down gently.
Alex stared at the empty void, his console still sparking. The warning logs scrolled endlessly.
> [System Integrity Restored: 72%]
[Core Fragment: DOOM.OS — Quarantined]
[Player Link: Stabilized]
He exhaled, the sound shaky. "We did it…"
Peter grinned beneath his mask. "Yeah, we actually did."
Shuri stirred, her voice weak but clear. "He's… contained. But he'll try again."
Alex nodded. "Then we'll be ready next time."
She gave a tired smile. "You always say that."
"Because it's true."
---
For the first time in what felt like forever, the void was quiet. The lights dimmed to a calm silver hue, like moonlight reflecting off code.
Peter sat cross-legged on the floating data platform, breathing heavily. "You know, I'm starting to think our group chat needs a therapist."
Shuri laughed softly. "And a vacation."
Alex looked between them — two faces that had nearly been erased by his world, now alive again. "Maybe after we fix the remaining bugs," he said, smiling faintly.
"Or," Peter countered, "we could not fix anything for one day."
Shuri nodded in agreement. "A day off. Imagine that."
Alex's expression softened. "Yeah… maybe it's time we take a break."
The world shimmered, rebuilding itself into something calmer — a soft sunrise over the digital horizon, gentle waves of color instead of chaos.
For once, the game didn't feel like a battlefield.
It felt like a world worth living in.