Marvel X The Boys

Again here at The Boys

The decrepit safehouse was quiet, save for the occasional creak of its aging walls. Butcher paced near the kitchen window, his eyes fixed on the mist creeping closer to the building. He hadn't liked the look of it earlier, and now it was clinging to the chain-link fence outside like it had a purpose.

Frenchie leaned back in a chair, rolling a cigarette between his fingers. "I'm telling you, Butcher. It's just fog. Weather does strange things."

"Fog doesn't bloody move like it's got somewhere to be," Butcher shot back, gesturing toward the yard.

Mother's Milk, standing near the window, let out a low hum of agreement. "He's right. That ain't normal."

"Neither are we," Frenchie replied with a smirk, lighting his cigarette.

Before anyone could reply, a faint rustling sound cut through the air. It was subtle at first, like wind brushing against metal, but it grew louder—sharper.

"What the f*** is that?" Hughie asked, inching toward the window.

The Entity

Near the edge of the mist, something moved. At first, it was just a shadow, indistinct and wavering. But then it stepped into view, and the room seemed to grow colder.

The figure was humanoid, but wrong. Its limbs were elongated, its body flickering like a bad signal on a TV screen. Golden mist swirled around it, its head a featureless void that radiated malice.

"Alright," Butcher said, cracking his knuckles. "Who invited the glitchy bastard?"

"No one," Hughie muttered, his voice shaky. "But I don't think it's leaving."

The figure stepped closer, its movements jerky and unnatural, like it was stitched together from fragments of different realities.

"Right. That's enough of that," Butcher growled. He grabbed a crowbar leaning against the wall and pushed open the door.

The Fight

"Butcher, wait—" Mother's Milk started, but Butcher was already outside, striding toward the figure with the kind of reckless confidence that came from years of fighting things he shouldn't have survived.

"Oi!" Butcher barked, hefting the crowbar. "You lost, mate? 'Cause you've got about five seconds to piss off before I make you regret it."

The entity didn't respond. Instead, it tilted its head, emitting a sound that was somewhere between static and a guttural growl.

"Wrong answer," Butcher said, charging forward.

The crowbar swung through the air with a brutal arc, connecting with the entity's shoulder. For a moment, it staggered, its form glitching violently. But it didn't fall. Instead, it lashed out, its elongated arm catching Butcher across the chest and sending him skidding across the dirt.

"Butcher!" Hughie shouted from the doorway, frozen in place.

Butcher coughed, spitting blood onto the ground. "You hit like a bloody kitten," he snarled, pulling himself to his feet.

The fight escalated. The entity moved with inhuman speed, its body distorting with every step. Butcher fought like a man possessed, his swings wild but unrelenting. Each blow sent shockwaves through the air, the crowbar sparking as it connected with the flickering creature.

The others watched in tense silence, unsure if they should intervene or stay back. Butcher's grunts of effort, punctuated by the entity's static-like growls, filled the yard.

Finally, with a guttural roar, Butcher swung the crowbar one last time, driving it through the entity's chest. The creature convulsed, its form collapsing inward as if being sucked into itself. Then, with a blinding flash of light, it was gone.

The Glitch

Butcher stood over the spot where the entity had been, breathing heavily. He wiped the blood from his mouth, glancing back at the others.

"Well, that was f***in' weird," he said.

But before anyone could respond, the ground beneath them trembled. The golden mist surged forward, enveloping the yard in a thick, suffocating wave.

"What the hell's happening now?" Hughie shouted, stumbling backward.

The air crackled with energy, the same static-like sound from the entity growing louder. The world around them began to glitch—trees flickered in and out of existence, the sky split into jagged lines, and the safehouse itself wavered like a mirage.

"Everyone, hold on to something!" Mother's Milk yelled, grabbing Hughie by the arm.

But there was no time to react. The mist swirled faster, and with a deafening crack, the world around them shattered.

Arrival in Alex's Universe

When the mist cleared, they were no longer in their yard.

The group found themselves standing in the middle of a city street, surrounded by towering skyscrapers and blaring car horns. The air felt different—heavier, electric.

"Where the f*** are we?" Butcher growled, gripping the crowbar tightly.

Hughie spun in a circle, his eyes wide. "Is this... New York? It looks like New York."

"Not our New York," Mother's Milk said, his voice low. He pointed toward the skyline, where two suns hung in the sky, one golden, the other pale and sickly.

"Oh, bollocks," Butcher muttered.

From a nearby alley, Alex Harper stepped out, his face pale. He froze when he saw the group, his gaze darting between their battered appearances and the crowbar in Butcher's hand.

"Uh... hi?" Alex said, his voice cracking slightly.

Butcher tilted his head, sizing him up. "You. Got any idea what the hell's going on?"

Alex blinked, his mind racing. He didn't know who these people were, but they didn't look like they belonged here. And the fact that they had just appeared out of nowhere didn't help.

"I... I think you're in the wrong universe," Alex stammered.

"Yeah, no s***," Butcher said, stepping closer. "Now tell me what you know, or we're gonna have a problem."