Chapter 209 : Potrait?

Off the screen, an indescribable horror gripped everyone's hearts!

Marvel EU World!

Ancient One fixed her gaze on the horrifying image flickering on the screen.

Restlessness and confusion churned within her soul.

In that moment, the ancient, fleshy tree seemed to evoke the same dread as facing an evil beholder.

"What in the world is this? How does it render me feeling so vulnerable and feeble merely through the screen!?"

"It's merely the embodiment of a chaotic and bizarre concept," Ancient One reasoned, sensing that this entity surpassed even the terror of a beholder.

DC main universe!

God's pupils darkened, emanating an intensely terrifying aura.

By the roadside, Lucifer couldn't comprehend why his father appeared in the image.

But in the next instant, his complexion drained of color, sheer terror reflected in his eyes.

To his astonishment, God's visage sprouted over a dozen writhing flesh and blood tentacles, cracks fissuring his cheeks to reveal bloodshot, golden eyeballs.

The overwhelming aura paralyzed Lucifer, rendering him incapable of action.

Slowly, God's darkened gaze shifted towards him.

"It's the end."

"I'm finished."

Despair engulfed Lucifer; he couldn't even muster resistance.

Yet, in that moment, a brilliant yellow light flooded the screen, enveloping him, dispelling all visions instantly.

"Whoa!"

God gasped for air, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.

"What's happening, Father?" Lucifer croaked.

God managed a wry smile.

"I dared to peer at it with my own eyes, only to realize..."

"Let it go. You needn't delve too deeply. Just remember—it's terrifying!"

In that moment, God understood that as long as one avoided glimpsing the essence of that entity, it held no sway.

He had acted recklessly, peering without a shred of defense, nearly meeting his own demise.

Fortunately, the wielder of this screen possesses a mysterious power, or else I dread I would have been infected!

In this moment, a sliver of fear crept into God's consciousness. He couldn't fathom a world capable of birthing such peculiarities!

Initially, he perceived it merely as a world of rudimentary magic, one adorned with superficial beauty.

Now, however, he begrudgingly concedes that this world surpasses even the ominous depths of the DC universe!

The denizens therein resemble livestock bred for consumption!

["Puff, what a splendid tree! It must roast up deliciously!"] 

Dumbledore feigned ignorance, dismissing the ramblings of his interlocutor, before whisking himself back to Hogwarts with a flick of his wand.

The very next moment, he found himself ensnared in the other's banter once more!

["Cool!"]

["Let me enlighten you, this beats an electrical welding portal by miles!"]

["Swift, convenient, single-handed!"] 

Deadpool's beady eyes narrowed, addressing the empty air. "Look who Strange is eyeing; it's you! Devoid of special effects, your antics would be censored to oblivion!"

Off-screen, Strange's lips twitched.

Truly, the man is unhinged, even engaging in self-interaction!

Alas, I'm unable to mete out justice, else I'd administer a tongue-lashing!

Dumbledore paid no heed to the other's antics, though he couldn't help but marvel at Deadpool's resilience!

Yet upon reflection, with only a noggin atop his shoulders, his resilience is hardly surprising!

In the ensuing moment, Deadpool resumed his diatribe:

"It's akin to the sensation of being flushed into the sewers, the whirl of water propelling you forward, navigating through narrow passages—a descent punctuated by familiar constriction!"

"Cease!" Dumbledore interjected, halting Deadpool's vivid description. "Spare us the graphic imagery; I'm well acquainted with the sensation! Moreover, why does it seem oddly relatable?"

In that moment, regret washed over him!

"Gubraithian fire!"

Dumbledore brandished his wand abruptly!

(…)

A blaze erupted within the fireplace, casting a warm glow throughout the room!

"Phew, for a moment there, I thought the dark wizard intended to incinerate me!" fretted Deadpool.

"In light of the historical persecution where many wizards fell victim to the Gubraithian fire during the 17th century, Dumbledore couldn't shake the feeling that he was being mocked once more.

"So, you're suggesting a fiery fate awaits me?" Dumbledore inquired with a hint of curiosity.

Deadpool blinked mischievously.

"If you're keen on witnessing the miraculous journey from a single cell to a fully formed human, I'd be delighted to oblige," Deadpool offered with a grin.

"And free of charge, no less," he added.

Abandoning his initial impulse to brandish a torch, Dumbledore discerned the sincerity in Deadpool's words, or rather, the absence of deceit.

The portraits adorning the walls of the headmaster's chamber suddenly stirred to life, their attention drawn to the levitating head before them. A middle-aged man with a distinguished beard spoke up:

"Ah, Dumbledore, did you manage to reclaim the Knight Bus schedule?"

Dumbledore rummaged through his desk, replying, "No, this is merely a first-year student for the current academic year."

In a flash of recollection, Dumbledore waved his wand, causing shimmering golden lines to envelop the room before vanishing into thin air.

"Apologies, everyone. As of now, access to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and the Portrait of 12 Grimmauld Place is restricted," Dumbledore announced.

"These portraits remain unperturbed, partly due to their lack of true consciousness, merely echoes of my own thoughts," Dumbledore explained.

"And partly because, as the current headmaster, Dumbledore wields authority you'd be wise not to challenge," he added pointedly.

"Seems like the blood of the Velace family doesn't lend itself to pleasing aesthetics," remarked a bespectacled Slytherin headmaster, his tone dripping with disdain.

Deadpool, never one to back down, wiped his mouth with mock innocence.

"You got guts? Come out and face me!" he taunted.

The Slytherin headmaster sneered. "Looks like a typical Gryffindor, all bark and no bite. If you're up for it, step right in."

"Challenge accepted!" Deadpool retorted.

With a swift spit and a cheeky grin, Deadpool propelled himself towards the Slytherin portrait, eager for a confrontation.

Dumbledore made no move to intervene, merely gesturing slightly, yet Deadpool appeared to propel himself forward as if by his own accord.

"Insulting Slytherin in front of me? You clearly underestimate yourself," the Slytherin headmaster remarked dismissively.

In a matter of moments, Deadpool arrived face-to-face with the Slytherin portrait.

Unfazed by Deadpool's slender frame, the Slytherin headmaster remained confident that breaching the painting's world was an impossibility.

"I am invincible!" he proclaimed with arrogance.

However, his confidence quickly dissolved into laughter upon seeing Deadpool's unconventional approach, followed by a swift defeat.

Ten minutes later, amidst the mental chaos, the Slytherin headmaster's portrait endured a merciless punishment, left dangling in torment within the confines of the painting."

"Of course, I'm just playing dead!"

[Portraits won't be destroyed, they won't perish!)

[Deadpool couldn't care less, he's winning anyway!"

[In that moment, Dumbledore finally noticed something and motioned for Deadpool to come closer.]

["Well... indeed. This is a keepsake from a dear friend of mine..."]

"As Dumbledore placed a ruby earring on Deadpool's left ear, he continued:"

"Just a friendly reminder, don't push your luck. If you touch the raging fire within, you'll turn to ashes in seconds!"

"Of course, I'll track you down and make sure to pay you a visit, and what awaits you is endless torment!"

[Deadpool paid little heed to the threat and instead inquired about the earring's design:]

["Oh, by the way, is this friend you mentioned your boyfriend?"]

[Dumbledore smiled warmly, then took a step back.]

["Gubraithian fire!"]

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