Artifacts, Airports, and an Unwanted Slayer

Alex picked up the artifact.

It was surprisingly small—a metallic, cube-like object etched with strange symbols.

"Alright," he muttered. "One down, four to go."

The system pinged in his mind.

[Quest Update: 1/5 Artifacts Acquired.]Next Destination: Los Angeles.

Alex sighed. "Great. Now let's get the hell outta here before another dragon pops up."

Deadpool, still dusting off his suit, made a face. "Oh, NOW you're worried about random boss fights? Dude, we literally have THE Slayer with us now. I'd say we're overpowered as f**.*"

Speaking of the Slayer…

The Doom Slayer stood motionless, staring at them.

And by "them," mostly at Alex.

Alex hesitated. "Uh…so…about you…"

Slayer remained silent.

Alex scratched his head. "So, funny thing—I have no idea how to send you back. Like, at all."

Slayer didn't move.

Didn't react.

Didn't blink.

Alex gulped. "Sooo, I guess you're stuck with us for now?"

Still nothing.

Then, very slowly, Slayer tilted his head.

As if contemplating whether or not to punch Alex's skull in.

Alex forced a nervous chuckle. "I—I swear, I'll figure it out eventually… heh…*"

Deadpool hopped in, throwing an arm around Slayer's armor. "OH HELL YEAH, WE GOT THE DOOM GUY AS A PARTY MEMBER! Best crossover event ever! Look at us, just a bunch of freakin' badasses on a worldwide artifact hunt! Feels like Uncharted but with extra murder!"

Slayer shrugged him off like an annoying bug.

Deadpool landed on the ground with a thud. "…Noted. Personal space. Got it."

Goodbye, Pavitr – Hello, Flight Delays

Pavitr, having witnessed WAY too much insanity for one morning, sighed heavily.

"Well, my dudes," he said, stretching his arms. "It was…interesting meeting you all. But I think I'll stick to my usual 'saving people in my own city' schedule."

Alex nodded. "Thanks for the help, man. Stay safe."

Pavitr grinned, giving a playful salute. "You too! Try not to break reality more than you already have!"

He swung off, disappearing into the skyline.

And now, it was time to go.

The crew headed straight for the airport.

And then—

They realized something.

There was a problem.

Big Guy, Tiny Taxi

They'd called one taxi.

A single taxi.

And now, with the addition of a seven-foot-tall, armored space marine, they were out of space.

Butcher rubbed his temples. "Right. We need another ride."

The taxi driver—Raju—stared up at Slayer like he was seeing a goddamn deity.

"Bhaiya…yeh kya hai?" he muttered in Hindi. (Brother…what is this?)

Deadpool, grinning, leaned into the window. "Oh, don't worry, Raju! That's just our emotional support murder machine! He doesn't say much, but trust me, he's a hoot at parties!"

Raju blinked. Then just shrugged. "Haan, theek hai!" (Yeah, okay!)

Alex sighed. "We'll book another cab. Let's just get to the damn airport."

Airport Problems & Slayer's Death Stare

After an hour of traffic hell, they finally reached the airport.

They booked tickets for New York.

Everything seemed smooth.

Until—

Airport security stepped in front of Slayer.

"Sir, you can't board with all that armor and weaponry—"

Slayer stared.

Security guy froze.

Slayer kept staring.

The air became suffocatingly heavy.

Security guy gulped.

And then—

He slowly stepped aside.

Deadpool leaned in, whispering: "Damn, buddy. You didn't even have to say anything. That was some real 'final boss intro' energy right there."

Slayer ignored him.

Butcher smirked. "Well, that was easy."

And with that, they boarded the plane—off to New York.