Marvel: NIHILITY

The Negative Zone wasn't exactly a five-star vacation spot. The sky—if you could call the swirling, neon-green void a "sky"—pulsed like a migraine made tangible. Jagged obsidian spires jutted from the ground, and the air smelled like burnt toast and existential dread. David strolled through the chaos, hands in his pockets, whistling Sweet Caroline as insectoid monstrosities the size of semi-trucks lunged at him.

"Y'know," he said to no one in particular, "this place could really use a Starbucks." A creature with six serrated claws and a face that looked like a blender accident screeched toward him. David yawned, flicked his wrist, and turned it into a cloud of confetti. "And maybe some mood lighting. I'm getting Saw franchise vibes here."

He'd lost count of how many armies of chitinous freaks he'd vaporized in the last hour. Ten? Twenty? At this point, they were less "terrifying interdimensional invaders" and more "annoying popcorn kernels stuck in his teeth." He paused to admire a particularly dramatic explosion of alien guts. "Thanos would be proud," he muttered, wiping ichor off his jacket. "Note to self: send him a postcard. 'Wish you were here (so I could kick your ass again).'"

As he walked, he noticed a signpost sticking out of the ground. It read: Welcome to the Negative Zone: Population—You're Probably Screwed. David snorted. "Cute. Real cute."

Natasha Romanoff sat cross-legged on a slab of black crystal, filing her nails with a dagger she'd "borrowed" from a guard. The throne room was all jagged edges and ominous glowing glyphs, like a Hot Topic exploded in a Darth Vader fanfic. Annihilus, Lord of the Negative Zone, paced in front of her, his cosmic rod sparking in his clawed hand.

"Stop that infernal clicking!" he hissed, mandibles twitching.

Natasha held up the dagger, inspecting her work. "Relax, Shelob. Manicures are essential for stress relief. You should try it. Maybe swap the whole 'cosmic horror' aesthetic for a day spa."

Annihilus's antennae quivered with rage. "You are not taking this seriously!"

"Oh, I'm terrified," she deadlined, tossing the dagger into the skull of a passing drone. It collapsed in a heap. "But between you and me? Your interior decorator should be executed. Who uses bone chandeliers unironically?"

The tyrant's wings buzzed, a sound like a chainsaw fighting a beehive. "When your mate arrives, I will—"

"Mate?" Natasha snorted. "Honey, David's everyone's mate, or at least in most women's dreams. I'm just one of them waiting in line." She leaned back, stretching lazily. "Though if you wanted to keep me here, you could've at least offered room service. A girl gets hungry playing damsel."

Annihilus opened his mouth to retort—then froze. A distant rumble shook the fortress. Screams echoed down the hall, growing louder. Closer.

Boom.

A wall exploded. David stepped through the dust, brushing debris off his shoulder. "Knock knock."

Natasha sprang to her feet, clutching her chest dramatically. "David! Thank God! These… these monsters!" She fake-sobbed into her hands. "They said such awful things! They threatened to… to monologue at me!"

Annihilus's compound eyes nearly popped. "LIAR! I gave you a guided tour and let you pick your own prison cell!"

David raised an eyebrow. "You gave her a tour?"

"He did!" Natasha sniffled. "And the gift shop was atrocious."

Annihilus brandished his cosmic rod, its energy crackling. "Enough! You will both perish here!"

David cracked his knuckles as he was surrounded by a golden radiance. "Buddy, you're about to become a cautionary tale."

Annihilus lunged, rod slashing a deadly arc. David sidestepped, grabbed a floating boulder, and hurled it like a softball. CRUNCH. The tyrant skidded backward; his exoskeleton cracked.

"You… you cannot defeat me!" Annihilus spat. "I am the end of all—"

"Yeah, yeah, 'alpha and omega,' blah blah." David rolled his eyes. "Ever notice how you bad guys never shut up?" He teleported behind Annihilus, yanked the cosmic rod from his grip, and kicked him into a pillar.

Natasha whistled. "That's the guy who kidnapped me? Pathetic."

Annihilus struggled to his feet, trembling. "P-please! Take her! Just… leave my dimension intact!"

David twirled the rod like a baton. "This little stick's the source of your power, huh? Cute."

"Cute?!" Annihilus screeched. "That 'stick' has unraveled galaxies!"

"Cool story." David's grin turned wicked. "Let's see how it works retroactively."

Before Annihilus could react, David shoved the cosmic rod somewhere anatomically improbable.

The tyrant's shriek could've shattered dimensions. Somewhere in Asgard, Odin dropped his Gungnir. In Wakanda, T'Challa frowned at a sudden chill. Tony felt a shivered as he instinctively covered his ass. Every man in the multiverse instinctively clenched their buttcheeks.

Natasha licked her lips seductively. "Mmm, I would love it if he shoved his rod in me so forcefully…"

David sighed and dusted his hands, throwing the sobbing and violated ruler of the Negative Zone aside. "Behave, or next time I'll make three of them shove in like suppositories."

The Negative Zone began crumbling, reality itself rejecting Annihilus's humiliation. Natasha clung to David's arm as they sprinted through disintegrating corridors.

"So…" She batted her lashes. "You really came all this way for little ol' me?"

"Fury will nag me forever if I let you die."

"Liar. You like me." She purred.

"I tolerate you. There's a difference."

A chasm split open beneath them. David grabbed Natasha's waist, leaping over it as the ground collapsed. She smirked. "Admit it. You're into the whole 'bad boy saves spy girl' thing."

"I'm into not being nagged for the next century."

They burst into the throne room, now a kaleidoscope of chaos. The portal home flickered weakly. David hurled the cosmic rod like a javelin, piercing the rift. It stabilized, barely.

"Ladies first," he said, shoving Natasha through.

"So romantic!" she called, vanishing.

David glanced back. Annihilus, still whimpering, crawled toward him. "Mercy…!"

"Mercy's my wife's department. I'm more of a 'creative solutions' guy." He tossed a grenade shaped exploding star from his pocket. "Here—advil. You'll need it."

He stepped through the portal. The grenade exploded into a glitter bomb.

The Baxter Building's lab was packed when David and Natasha tumbled out. Susan lunged at him, force field flaring. "You idiot! You reckless, arrogant—"

He caught her mid-leap, spinning her into a dip. "Missed you too, Sue."

Emma materialized beside them, diamond arms folded. "Took you long enough. I was this close to auctioning your shoes on eBay."

Tony Stark gagged. "Are we done with the soap opera? Some of us have stock prices to crash."

Natasha sauntered toward the Avengers. "Aw, Tony. Jealous he didn't carry you through a hell dimension?"

"I'd rather date a toaster," Tony muttered.

Reed Richards, face bandaged, wheezed from a cot. "The portal… it's still unstable! We need to—"

"Already handled," David said, tossing the charred cosmic rod to Reed. "Merry Christmas. Don't spend it all in one apocalypse."

Susan grabbed David's collar, yanking him close. "Next time? Communication."

"Yes, dear."

"And no flirting with assassins."

Natasha blew David a kiss. He groaned. "She started it!"

Emma smirked. "Don't worry, Susan. If he misbehaves, I'll handcuff him to our bed. Permanently."

The room fell silent. Clint choked on a protein bar.

David raised his hands. "Can we focus on the unstable portal thing now?"

"No," said Susan, Emma, and Natasha in unison.

The Baxter Building was finally quiet—well, as quiet as it could be with a half-destroyed lab, a traumatized Annihilus (who was now in a holding cell, whimpering about cosmic rods), and a very smug Natasha Romanoff lounging on the couch like she owned the place. David, meanwhile, was trying to enjoy a cup of coffee, but the universe had other plans.

"So," Natasha purred, stretching like a cat, "where's my hero off to next?"

Susan, who was busy repairing a force field generator, shot her a glare that could melt vibranium. "He's not your anything, Romanoff."

Emma leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "If you're looking to play a damsel in distress, try the next dimension over. David's booked."

Natasha smirked. "Oh, I'm not looking to be saved. I'm looking to… thank him properly." She winked at David, who nearly choked on his coffee.

David raised his hands in surrender. "Ladies, can we not turn this into a rom-com? I've had enough drama for one week."

"Too bad," Susan said, slamming the generator down. "You're stuck with us. And her."

Natasha shrugged. "I'm just saying, a little gratitude never hurt anyone. Besides, David, you've got that whole 'brooding hero' thing going on. It's… intriguing."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Intriguing? Please. He's about as brooding as a golden retriever with a squeaky toy."

David pointed at Emma. "Thank you. Finally, someone gets me."

Susan snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. You're about as mysterious as a traffic light."

Before David could retort, Reed Richards stormed into the room, his face still bandaged and his expression darker than the Negative Zone. "I'm leaving," he announced.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

"Leaving?" Susan asked, her tone a mix of concern and exasperation. "Reed, you're in no condition to—"

"I don't need your pity," Reed snapped. "I've made arrangements. Victor has offered me access to one of his labs. He… understands the importance of my work."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Victor von Doom? The guy who once tried to conquer the world with a army of robot squirrels? That Victor?"

Reed ignored her, grabbing a duffel bag and heading for the door. "I'll be in touch."

Susan stepped forward, her voice softening. "Reed, don't do this. You don't have to go to him. We can figure this out together."

Reed paused, his hand on the doorframe. "No, Susan. This is something I need to do alone."

And with that, he was gone.

The room fell silent.

"Well," Natasha said, breaking the tension, "that was dramatic. Can we get back to the part where I flirt with David?"

Susan and Emma turned to her in unison. "No." Making the redhead pout.

Reed stepped into the dimly lit lab, the air thick with the scent of ozone and arrogance. Victor von Doom stood at the center of the room, his cape billowing dramatically despite the lack of wind.

"Ah, Richards," Doom said, his voice dripping with smugness. "I see you've embraced a new look. The burnt face is… an interesting choice. Very post-apocalyptic chic."

Reed scowled. "Spare me the commentary, Victor. I'm here to work, not to listen to your ego."

Doom chuckled, gesturing to a nearby workstation. "Of course. Doom is nothing if not accommodating. Though I must say, it's refreshing to see you finally admit that you need my help."

Reed clenched his fists but said nothing. He had no choice. The Negative Zone project was too important to abandon, and Doom was the only one with the resources—and the audacity—to see it through.

"Now," Doom said, turning to a holographic display of the Negative Zone, "let us begin. Together, we shall unlock the secrets of the multiverse… and perhaps, in the process, teach you how to properly apply first aid."

Reed sighed. This was going to be a long partnership.

David leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Alright, I've decided. I'm taking a vacation."

Susan and Emma exchanged glances. "A vacation?" Susan asked. "Since when do you take vacations?"

"Since I nearly got turned into a cosmic kebab," David replied. "I'm thinking somewhere tropical. Beaches, palm trees, no interdimensional rifts. Sound good?"

Emma smirked. "As long as there's room service, I'm in."

Susan nodded. "Fine. But no flirting with locals."

Natasha, who had been quietly observing the conversation, suddenly perked up. "Oh, a vacation? Count me in."

Susan and Emma turned to her, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. "Absolutely not," Susan said.

"Not happening," Emma added.

Natasha shrugged. "Too late. I already packed." She held up a small suitcase that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

David groaned. "This is going to be a disaster."

Nick Fury sat at his desk, watching the live feed from the Baxter Building on a hidden camera. He leaned back, a rare smile on his face.

"Go get him, Romanoff," he muttered, raising a glass of scotch in a toast. "Seduce the walking apocalypse and make him nicer—and saner. God knows we need it."

The tropical resort was everything David had hoped for: white sandy beaches, crystal-clear water, and not a single alien invader in sight. Susan and Emma were already lounging by the pool, sipping colorful drinks with tiny umbrellas. David, meanwhile, was trying to relax in a hammock when Natasha appeared, wearing a bikini that could only be described as "strategic."

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, her tone innocent but her smile anything but.

David sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

Before Natasha could respond, Susan and Emma materialized on either side of her, their expressions deadly.

"Back off, Romanoff," Susan said, her force field flickering ominously.

"Yeah," Emma added, her diamond form glinting in the sunlight. "He's off-limits."

Natasha raised her hands in mock surrender. "Relax, ladies. I'm just here to enjoy the scenery."

David groaned, burying his face in his hands. "This is going to be the longest vacation of my life."