Marvel: NIHILITY

David shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as he wandered the streets of New York City. The world was almost painfully vibrant to his enhanced senses.

Every passing car seemed to hum like a jet engine, the flicker of neon signs burned like tiny suns, and the smells—God, the smells—were an assault on his nose.

"Note to self," he muttered, "learn how to turn this sensory overload off before I punch a hot dog cart into orbit."

As he walked, he let himself fade into the crowd. New York was loud, chaotic, and alive, the kind of place where a guy like him could blend in—at least for now.

A nearby newsstand caught his eye, its headline blaring in bold letters:

"MUTANT RIGHTS ACTIVISTS UNDER FIRE AFTER CHITAURI ATTACK – ARE THEY THE NEXT THREAT?"

David froze. His eyes scanned the smaller text, picking out phrases like "Sentinel Program set to be activated" and "Xavier Institute advocates for peaceful coexistence." "Magneto declares war against mutant experimentation."

Mutants. Xavier. Trask. He rubbed his temple, a headache brewing as he processed the implications.

David froze. His eyes scanned the smaller text, picking out phrases like "Dr. Trask's proposal for enhanced security measures gains traction" and "Public demands answers from the Xavier Institute." Mutants. Xavier. Trask. He rubbed his temple, a headache brewing as he processed the implications.

"So… it's not just MCU," he muttered. "We've got X-Men in the mix, too. Because that's what this universe needed—more existential chaos."

He grabbed a paper from the stand, tossing the vendor a crumpled bill, and started flipping through it as he walked. The headlines were a mix of familiar and unsettling:

"Stark Industries Pledges to Rebuild Post-Invasion New York!"

"Spider-Man Spotted Swinging Through Queens—Threat or Menace?"

"Boliver Trask Advocates for 'Sentinel Program' to Combat Mutant Threats!" "Magneto Condemns Sentinel Deployment—Declares Mutantkind Under Siege!"

David paused at an editorial about the aftermath of the Battle of New York. Apparently, the Chitauri invasion had rattled the public enough that fear was bleeding into everything—mutants, aliens, superheroes. The whole city was on edge, and politicians and people like Trask were capitalizing on it.

"Great," he muttered, scanning another article. "So we've got mutants getting blamed for everything, Sentinels being built in secret, and Tony Stark probably trying to patent alien tech. Sounds about right."

Then, a peculiar thing caught his sight: " Famous ex-surgeon Dr. Steven Strange gone missing after spending all his wealth to cure his hands."

David let out a bitter laugh. "Of course you're still around, Doc. Couldn't resist sticking your nose in cosmic business, could you? But, it seems you are still lacking the cape."

As he turned the corner into a quieter street, David's enhanced hearing picked up fragments of conversations.

"… Xavier's trying to keep the peace, but the government's not listening…"

"… Stark's throwing a fundraiser for the city's rebuild. Hope he doesn't bring his ego…"

"… weird lights near Hell's Kitchen last night. Daredevil must be pissed."

David frowned. Hell's Kitchen. The name tugged at his memory. Daredevil, he thought. Another hero in this overstuffed universe. How many caped crusaders are running around here, anyway?

He wandered aimlessly for hours, piecing together bits of the timeline from overheard conversations and glances at screens in shop windows.

The world felt like a patchwork quilt of comic lore, stitched together from every universe he'd ever heard of. It wasn't just the MCU or X-Men. There were hints of the Fantastic Four, whispers of the Inhumans, and even murmurs about some guy in Latveria calling himself Dr. Doom.

Eventually, David found himself at Central Park. He sat on a bench, his body slouched in a way that screamed exhaustion, though he doubted anyone would notice.

The world buzzed around him, but he tried to tune it out, focusing on the paper in his hands.

His mind churned. This wasn't just a new timeline; it was a powder keg. The Chitauri invasion had left scars, both literal and metaphorical.

People were scared and angry, looking for someone to blame. And with the Sentinel Program starting up in the shadows, mutants were the perfect scapegoats.

"Anchor myself, huh?" He muttered, staring at the lake. "Easier said than done."

A voice broke his thoughts. "You look like you've been through some stuff, bub."

David glanced up. A man in a leather jacket and sunglasses stood a few feet away. His hairstyle was pretty weird, but it suited him strangely; his stance casual, but his presence carried an edge of danger. It was freakin Wolverine of all people.

David sighed. "Let me guess. You're here to give me the 'chin up, kid' speech."

Logan smirked faintly. "Nah, I don't do speeches. But you've got a look about you—like you're one bad day away from losing it.

Figured I'd say something before you do something dumb."

David leaned back, smirking faintly. "Appreciate the concern, Padre. But I'm fine. Just soaking in the existential horror of it all."

Logan snorted, stepping closer and sitting on the edge of the bench, not too close but not far enough to leave room for escape either. "Yeah, sure. Fine. I've heard that one before."

"From who? Yourself?" David shot back, a hint of dry humor in his voice.

"Maybe," Logan admitted, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Listen, kid. Life's got a way of piling it on. You either let it break you, or you find a way to keep going. Maybe you don't know what the hell you're doing, but that doesn't mean you've got to do it alone."

David raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be profound?"

"It's supposed to be true," Logan said bluntly. He took a breath, his voice softening. "Look, I've been where you are. Lost, angry, feeling like the world's out to get you.

Hell, maybe it is. But sitting here staring at the water ain't gonna fix it. You gotta find something to hold onto, even if it's just the next damn sunrise."

David chuckled, shaking his head. "What are you, my motivational speaker now? You handing out pamphlets too?"

Logan chuckled, "Nah. Just saying you don't have to go through it alone. Some of us know what it's like to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders."

He stood up, brushing off his jacket. "Anyway, if you ever need to vent or just get a beer, look me up at Xavier Academy. Name's Logan."

David tilted his head, studying the man. "A heartfelt invitation to drink with the Wolverine. Should I be honored or terrified?"

Logan chuckled lowly. "Why not both? But hey, beer's beer. See you around, kid."

As Logan turned to leave, David called after him. "Hey, got an odd question. Have you guys been to space?"

Logan gave him a look, like he was deciding whether the question was worth answering. "No. Why?"

David shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Just needed to know how far back I am in the MCU."

Logan snorted, muttering something under his breath about "weirdo," and walked away.

As Logan walked away, David watched him disappear into the crowd. A faint smile played on his lips as he muttered to himself, "Find something to hold onto, huh? Maybe I'll start with that beer."

David stayed in the park a little longer, watching the city light up as night fell. The more he learned, the more he realized how precarious this universe was. It wasn't just one timeline; it was a collision of many. And with his powers, he could either stabilize it or push it into complete chaos.

For now, he decided to gather more intel and figure out what this world needed most—whether it was a savior, a destroyer, or something in between.

But one thing was clear: he wouldn't be able to stay out of the spotlight for long.