Marvel X The Boys

The atmosphere inside Avengers Tower was tense. The Boys and Deadpool had given them the rundown on The Seven, and it was not reassuring.

"So let me get this straight," Tony said, rubbing his temples. "We're dealing with a psychotic Superman, a knockoff Wonder Woman with a drinking problem, an invisible ninja, and a dude whose entire power set is basically just being fast?"

"That about sums it up," Hughie muttered.

"You forgot The Deep," Deadpool added. "But honestly, everyone does."

Butcher leaned forward, planting his hands on the table. "They ain't heroes. They ain't soldiers. They're killers. And they ain't just gonna sit around twiddlin' their thumbs. They're plannin' somethin'."

Steve nodded. "Then we find them first."

Tracking the Seven

Tony flicked through hacked security feeds and satellite imagery, searching for any trace of The Seven. "I don't like this. They should be easy to spot. Guys like these? They want to be seen."

"Homelander loves the camera," Butcher agreed. "If he ain't makin' a spectacle, he's settin' a trap."

Bruce Banner leaned forward. "They disappeared after the attack. If they didn't leave the city, they're hiding."

"Or regrouping," Natasha said. "They know we'll come for them."

Mother's Milk exhaled sharply. "So we gotta move before they make the first strike."

A Possible Lead

The screen flickered, and a grainy security feed appeared, displaying a warehouse district near the docks.

"Boom. Possible sighting," Tony said, zooming in on several figures moving through the shadows.

The image wasn't clear, but the shape of a long cape moving in the wind? That was a dead giveaway.

Steve's expression hardened. "That's them."

The Plan

Steve turned to the group. "We do this quietly. In and out. We get intel on what they're doing before they know we're watching."

Butcher scoffed. "I ain't quiet."

"Yeah, we noticed," Clint muttered.

"Then let us handle the stealth," Natasha said.

Deadpool raised his hand. "Counterpoint: what if we didn't do stealth? What if we just kicked the door down, guns blazing?"

"No," Steve and Tony said at the same time.

"But it's so much faster!"

"Shut it, Spandex," Butcher growled.

Tony ignored them. "We'll go in teams. Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Butcher go in first, keep it quiet. If things go south? The rest of us hit them hard."

"Do I have to be on the sneaky team?" Butcher muttered.

"Unless you want to charge in like an idiot," Steve shot back.

Deadpool turned to the audience.

"Oh, you KNOW that's gonna happen."

The Warehouse

The docks were eerily silent as the group arrived. Fog rolled in from the bay, wrapping around the towering stacks of cargo containers.

Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Butcher moved first, sticking to the shadows.

The place felt wrong.

Too quiet.

Too still.

Butcher gripped his crowbar. "Where the hell are they?"

Then—a sound.

A low hum.

Like a generator.

They turned the corner and saw it—

A massive contraption in the center of the warehouse, crackling with energy.

"What the hell is that?" Clint muttered.

But before anyone could answer—

A blur of motion.

And then—a voice.

"Now, now," a smooth voice called. "Spying? That's not very heroic."

Steve turned sharply—just in time to see A-Train step out of the shadows.

And beside him?

Black Noir.

First Contact

Butcher's lips curled into a smirk. "Well. Ain't this a nice surprise?"

A-Train cracked his neck. "You don't look happy to see us."

Clint nocked an arrow. "Yeah, we're really bad at acting."

Black Noir stood motionless. Watching. Waiting.

A-Train grinned. "Y'know, Homelander said we might run into you guys. Told us to be nice."

Butcher took a slow step forward. "Well, mate. I'm afraid I ain't nice."

A-Train vanished in a blur.

Then—a gut-punch slammed into Butcher, sending him flying into a stack of crates.

Steve's shield was up instantly. Natasha and Clint moved into position.

Black Noir lunged.

The fight had begun.

Back with Deadpool & The Others

A few blocks away, Tony, Alex, Hughie, Mother's Milk, Frenchie, and Deadpool waited in a van.

"How long are we supposed to sit here?" Alex muttered.

Tony checked his watch. "Five minutes. If they don't report back, we move."

Deadpool grinned. "Oh, come on! This is prime ambush material. We both know the plot demands we get attacked, right?"

Mother's Milk sighed. "Why do you talk like that?"

"Because it's funny. And because—"

Just then, the comms cut out.

Tony frowned. "That's not good."

Then—a loud explosion.

From the warehouse.

Tony jumped to his feet. "That's our cue!"

Deadpool pumped his fists. "HELL YEAH! Showtime, baby!"

As they rushed toward the warehouse, Alex's system pinged in his head.

System Notification

[WARNING: HOSTILE ENGAGEMENT DETECTED][OBJECTIVE UPDATED: SURVIVE THE SEVEN]

Alex's stomach twisted.

They were already too late.