Marvel : Deadpool Is My Best Friend

"Name?"

"Bruce Banner."

"Gender?"

"Isn't it obvious? Are you kidding me?"

"Watch your attitude. Who knows if you used some magic—or a mutant's ability—to change your appearance?"

"Okay, man."

"Residential address?"

"You mean now or in the future? I just got here. I don't have an address in this timeline."

"If you're from the future, you should know where you live right now."

"Right now, I should be staying at the apartment arranged by S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Got you now, faker. You said you're living in a S.H.I.E.L.D. apartment? You're just an impostor!" Strange immediately summoned scarlet mystical chains to restrain the so-called Dr. Banner.

Strange had already sensed something was off. The man in front of him was an impostor trying to exploit the chaos. Luckily, Strange had become more cautious—ever since being stationed in Hell's Kitchen, he'd learned to keep his guard up.

If this were the old Strange, the arrogant, newly-minted Sorcerer Supreme, he might've invited this person into the New York Sanctum without a second thought.

And if this man was truly dangerous, the consequences could have been catastrophic.

Even the destruction of the New York Sanctum wouldn't be the worst part. What if Strange himself were seriously wounded? Even if this was just a projection or a clone, it would still have serious consequences.

"Wait! If I'm not living in the S.H.I.E.L.D. apartment, then where am I supposed to be staying?" The man claiming to be Dr. Banner was equally confused. His face showed genuine shock at Strange's aggressive reaction.

That didn't make sense—he remembered living in the apartment S.H.I.E.L.D. assigned him.

Unless… had he come to the wrong timeline? Or a different universe altogether?

Now wasn't the time to get lost in thought—Strange was attacking him. He needed to say something to prove he wasn't an impostor.

"You often neglected your girlfriend, Christine Palmer, because of your obsession with surgery. You two broke up in the future," Dr. Banner blurted out.

Strange's scarlet attack halted mid-air.

It wasn't the mention of Christine's name that gave him pause—that information wasn't exactly secret. Anyone determined enough could dig it up.

But the specifics… The relationship troubles. The breakup. That was intimate knowledge. And true.

Strange hadn't told anyone. Not even Alex Ray. The timing was suspiciously accurate.

Could the man standing before him truly be Bruce Banner from another future?

Strange's thoughts ran deep. If this guy was from the future, why didn't he even know his current address?

As if echoing his thoughts, Banner asked again, "If I'm not living in the S.H.I.E.L.D. apartment, where am I living now?"

Strange narrowed his eyes. He still hadn't fully dropped his guard, but he gave an honest answer: "You live in Hell's Kitchen now."

"What?" Banner's eyes widened. "Hell's Kitchen? Where the hell is that? I've never even heard of a place like that."

An ominous chill ran down his spine.

Could it be that they hadn't traveled into their past—but into a completely foreign timeline?

In his original universe, there was no Hell's Kitchen. Not in the past. Not in the future. Not ever.

Strange saw the confusion—and growing panic—on the man's face. He frowned slightly and decided to test a theory.

"So, in your world... do you know anyone named Alex Ray?"

"Alex Ray?" Banner repeated blankly. "Who is that? Sounds like an American. Is he a superhero?"

"The man leading this war effort right now is Alex Ray. You've never heard of him? No Hell's Kitchen? No Alex Ray at all?"

Strange felt a chill now.

If this Banner was truly from the future—and had never even heard of Alex Ray or Hell's Kitchen—did that mean those things ceased to exist in the future?

But Strange was still standing. That meant at least he had survived. Maybe caution really did pay off, after all.

"No... that's not it," Banner said slowly. "In my timeline, there has never been anyone named Alex Ray. No Hell's Kitchen either. Whether it's the past or the future, the only ones involved in this war are us—The Avengers. There weren't so many people like you have here."

Banner now felt certain: this wasn't just a mistake in time-travel. They were in a different universe entirely.

Strange, too, had come to the same conclusion.

The man in front of him was Bruce Banner—but from an entirely different multiverse. One where things had progressed faster. Or differently.

Just then, a calm voice rang in Strange's mind.

"Bring the guest up."

It was the Ancient One.

Strange finally dispersed the scarlet chains binding Dr. Banner and extended a hand to help him up.

"I'm sorry," Strange said sincerely. "I thought you were an impostor. We're at war, and I assumed you might be another alien or shapeshifter. I don't even have the Time Stone anymore. But my master—the Ancient One—might be able to answer your questions."

Banner accepted the apology. If the roles were reversed, he'd probably have done the same.

Still… something about this version of Strange felt different. Not just the attire or attitude—there was a constant wariness to him, as if he'd seen too much already.

Strange guided Dr. Banner deeper into the New York Sanctum.

"Careful," came a gentle voice from ahead. "The floor was just waxed."

Dr. Banner looked up to see a bald woman clad in yellow robes—the Ancient One herself.

"You're the Ancient One?" Banner asked.

Strange stepped in. "Master, this is Dr. Banner. He's from another parallel universe."

"I know," the Ancient One said calmly. "And their timeline is moving faster than ours."

She turned to Bruce. "In your timeline, you wouldn't have found Stephen here at all. He'd still be performing surgery—about twenty streets away."

Both Strange and Banner looked at each other, startled.

"So," the Ancient One asked, tilting her head slightly, "what brings you here?"

"I want that," Banner said, pointing at the timepiece-like object hanging over her chest.

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