Fishing the Multiverse

The Avengers and Fury descended from the upper threshold of the suitcase, stepping into what could only be described as an impossibly complex starship bridge.

They stood in stunned silence.

The central control console shimmered with soft ambient light, surrounded by sectional stations labeled Navigation, Sciences, Communications, Temporal Logistics, and more. Floating monitors, glowing panels, and softly humming crystal arrays filled the chamber.

Sleek couches lined the walls. Comfortable, but military-clean. There was a warmth to the space, but also a sense of duty.

Fury looked around, his hand instinctively brushing his holster. "Why do I get a… military vibe from this place?"

"And a home vibe," Natasha added, eyes narrowing as if taking in something just beneath the surface.

Jonas turned, arms loosely crossed. "That's because it is a home. Mine and my friends. This vessel, technically called a TARDIS, is a living machine. She's not just my ship, she's part of my family. But… we still haven't named her. 'TARDIS' is more of a class of ship name."

Patch inclined his head. "You're correct, Captain. A personal designation would be appropriate. Perhaps the ship will suggest once she's comfortable."

Jonas nodded, then turned back to the group. "Anyway. The bridge design is a mix of Gallifreyan interface with some Starfleet-inspired station layouts. Patch's father was a Starfleet commander, and he insisted on compartmentalization. I don't mind. We have a science station, communications, navigational helm, temporal scope, dimensional map plotting… everything you need. Except weapons."

Steve looked over. "No weapon station?"

"Nope," Jonas said simply. "This isn't a battleship. It's for exploration. Discovery. Not conquest."

That seemed to land with Steve. He gave a nod of approval.

"Oh—and Patch," Jonas said, turning to his companion. "Go ahead and issue everyone visitor IDs and library cards."

Patch walked to a side console, tapped a few glyphs, and returned moments later with slim, glowing ID bands.

Jonas handed them out. "These'll get you food, access to most public quarters, and entry into the Index Library. Keep 'em on you."

"So… where to first?" Tony asked, still ogling the walls.

Jonas grinned. "The food court. Then the library."

As they walked, the crew passed a branching corridor.

"This is the Multiversal Workshop, formerly the Parts Room," Jonas said. "Tony, you might find this interesting."

He pressed a panel, and the doors parted to reveal a sprawling workshop stacked with alien components and tools unlike anything on Earth. Artifacts from across the multiverse glittered on shelves and floated in containment fields.

"Multiverse?" Bruce echoed, eyes wide.

Tony slowly stepped inside the threshold, muttering, "This… this is like the greatest garage ever built."

"Oh yeah," Jonas said casually. "This ship isn't limited to time or space. It jumps timelines, realities. We collect what we can… safely. Which leads us—"

Natasha interrupted. "What's that room?"

She pointed to a door marked simply: Nightmare Room.

Jonas's face sobered. A low hum seemed to emanate from the sealed door, and faint red warning lights blinked at its corners. A reinforced frame lined its threshold, and a thin layer of frost rimmed the edges, despite the room's internal heat.

"That's where we store the tech that gives you nightmares just thinking about it," Jonas said quietly. "Dangerous, incomprehensible, corrupting… We're still analyzing most of it. Some of it's just locked up forever."

Bruce felt a chill. Even Thor narrowed his gaze at the door, as though sensing something ancient and wrong beyond it.

They moved on.

Soon, they arrived at a vast atrium glowing with warm, ambient light. Above it was a sign that read "Omega Food Court." Dozens of stalls and kitchens sprawled outward in concentric rings. Each stall bore signs in alien languages, translated into English above them. Robotic servers moved gracefully between faux-patrons—androids designed to simulate life, creating a bustling but calm buzz of activity.

"Welcome," Jonas said, spreading his arms wide, "to the Omega Food Court."

The Avengers just stared.

Steve, without realizing, reached into his pocket and handed Jonas a $10 bill.

"What's this for?" Jonas asked, surprised.

Steve blinked. "I… honestly don't know."

Jonas laughed. "Well, I'll take it anyway."

Tony gawked. "You built all this?"

"Some of it...conceptualized really," Jonas said. "Most of the infrastructure came from the TARDIS herself. I just filled in the rest. The staff are androids—smart enough to prep food, answer questions, not smart enough to unionize."

"You ever plan to hire… actual cooks?" Fury asked.

"Eventually. No spies, though," Jonas said, shooting Fury a glance.

"Fair," Fury admitted.

"What kind of food is here?" Clint asked, looking around.

"Oh, you've got everything. Earth food. Shawarma too, if Tony still wants that. Klingon cuisine, though I don't recommend it unless you enjoy meat marinated in blood. Vulcan's southern dishes are surprisingly spicy and delicious. We've even got food from Bedellia—Patch, I think you like that one?"

Patch nodded. "Indeed. There's a resonance with my taste matrix."

"What is a Bedellian dish?" Steve asked, intrigued.

"Hard to describe," Jonas said. "Imagine spicy hummus combined with shock rocks and blended with various exotic meats from Bedella's lush forests and seas."

Steve blinked. "…Right."

Jonas gestured toward the stalls. "Your ID cards work like universal credits. Eat what you want. Find a table when you're ready. I'll be over there."

The group dispersed, curiosity getting the better of them. Natasha gravitated toward something labeled Andorian Fusion, while Thor was already at the Asgardian Spit Roast stand. Clint found a ramen stall with noodles that glowed. Steve—unsure.

Tony leaned over to Jonas. "You know, this is all kind of insane."

Jonas grinned. "And yet, here you are."

Tony smiled and went to explore. Fury remained behind, taking everything in. 

"Fancy a spin in the TARDIS?" Jonas asked.

"Just me?" Fury looked startled.

"No, the others too. Whoever wants to go, but I think it would be good for you to have a wider vision."

"My vision's been hyper-focused for the last 30 years," Fury remarked.

"I'm sure it causes you to miss the forest through the trees. It might be good for you."

"I was under the impression that you didn't like me very much," Fury said, looking at Jonas. It wasn't a challenging look but a genuine curious look.

"Without you, there wouldn't be the Avengers. You protect the Earth the best you can. You know Earth is in danger, and it's not the homegrown danger you're worried about. You're right to worry, but to truly protect the Earth, I think you'll need a broader vision; they all will. Tony gets it, but you can't rely on him. He's a loose cannon, unpredictable, moved by his emotions, and the typical wealthy white boy guilt that makes him easy to manipulate up to a point. And yet, one day you'll find yourself fighting a sentient AI Tony built to protect the Earth. 

No one has ever said no to him. He's always been too smart, too rich, and too valuable to do that. He's more dangerous than the Hulk. He also struggles with taking responsibility for his actions. He likes to spread it around on everyone near him, his friends, and especially on Captain America.

Unfortunately, you can't always be there to babysit him," Jonas said. 

Fury looked at Jonas with a sharpened gaze, "You know something? Time Traveller?"

"I know lots of things," Jonas replied with a small smile, "but I'm telling you why a tour, a quick trip, might be ideal for everyone."

"I'm listening," Fury fully turned to face Jonas.

"There's Natasha. Brave, willing to do anything to redeem herself, face fears, and monsters like the Hulk. She will even sacrifice her life for her family, the Avengers. Russian and pragmatic but deeply emotional, a hopeful with a constant fear that she knows that things can only end in tragedy. 

Clint, the family man, is torn between his duty towards SHIELD and his family. He doesn't have any powers, but he has clear and sharp vision. He has wisdom, he's a good teacher, and knows who needs to be beaten and who needs kind words. 

Thor's a walking man-child, spoiled like Stark, but meant to rule an Empire. He lacks the wisdom of his father but has a good heart. His scope of responsibilities is far grander than worrying about one little world, but he loves this world. He would give it all up to be able to stay here, with the mortal he loves. 

Dr. Banner, a literal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, denies that the Hulk is part of him. You understand this, but if Banner and Hulk ever became one, it would castrate the Hulk's power and usefulness to the military. General Ross understands it as well, that's why he's always chasing after Banner. He wants the power of the Hulk without the conscience of Dr. Banner.

Banner feels guilty and hopeless, but he won't allow himself to see the answer to his problems. That's because those around him won't let him see it. He thinks the Hulk is a monster, but the Hulk is a child who wants love. How do you think I made friends with the Hulk? By offering a few pieces of candy?

Finally, there's the Captain. A man out of time, but trying to adapt. He doesn't know what to do, so he does what he knows. A man of values who's emerged into a world without them. All there is to him right now is the soldier, because that's all anyone will allow him to be. He'll fight for the world with everything he has, but his lack of connection and his longing for a flame from the past will cause him to abandon the modern world.

These are your Avengers. Their flaws keep them from becoming what the world needs—heroes to live up to. The world needs to unite because there is a universe of greedy beings who are far stronger than a little Chitauri army that want to either conquer or destroy this world. 

You need something more than just Avengers."

He paused.

He looked away for a moment, and the slight weight in his posture suggested the price of carrying too much knowledge, too many futures.

"Ah, I should get something to eat!" Jonas said as he left Fury, who remained behind, deep in thought.

Everyone eventually regrouped at one of the larger tables near the edge of the food court's panoramic viewing window. Outside, streaks of light and dimension curled like rivers of time—an impossible view none of them commented on, though they all noticed.

Each Avenger returned with a tray or plate, each dish a little reflection of their character.

Thor had been the least adventurous in terms of novelty but not in enthusiasm. Though he'd attempted a few items from the Klingon stall, their sense of taste and dining culture mirrored Asgardian customs. He'd engaged the Klingon cook in a boisterous tale of his triumph over the frost giants, and the two nearly broke a table arm-wrestling. He bought himself a great barrel of blood wine and carried it to the table with pride, sloshing crimson liquid as he walked.

Tony had gotten a shawarma—finally—and made a show of trying it. But alongside it were small samples of other exotic items, the most notable being a glowing crystalline plate from the Sukarian stall. The Sukarians, known for their crystal-based biology, had developed food that looked inedible but was strangely delicious, with textures that shattered like candy and melted like mousse. The curious dish drew some eyes at the table, but Tony shrugged. "Tastes like Pop Rocks dipped in crème brûlée. Not bad."

Banner, unsurprisingly, had followed Patch's lead and tried the Bedellian dish. Its deep, earthy spices and shimmering presentation seemed to settle him more than expected. "It's… calming," he said, which for Banner was the equivalent of high praise.

Natasha had sampled small dishes from a few different kitchens but gravitated toward a Kaméan seafood plate—lightly cooked, delicately seasoned, and artfully plated. She ate with quiet precision, a soldier enjoying a rare moment of peace. Spicy food wasn't her thing; she appreciated subtlety in taste the same way she did in people.

Steve Rogers, interestingly enough, was the most adventurous. He'd tried something from almost every corner: Vulcan spice bread, Andorian noodles, a bite of Sukarian crystal (which he instantly regretted), and even a fermented mushroom from the Melgarian stall that made his face twist momentarily. Still, he smiled and kept trying new things, clearly enjoying the experience of seeing what the world—and other worlds—had to offer.

Fury, ever the pragmatist, had grabbed the first thing that looked vaguely like a sandwich and brought it back. He hadn't complained, but it was clear he was still too focused on everything else to savor the moment.

Jonas, meanwhile, had returned with something that looked like pure comfort: a thick-cut steak glazed in a dark, fragrant sauce, alongside mashed root vegetables that shimmered faintly. The mound was drizzled with glowing oil and topped with something that might have been chives—or alien tentacle shavings. Either way, it smelled amazing.

They sat, they ate, they drank.

Alien sodas fizzed in transparent cubes. Wine sparkled with tiny constellations. Someone—probably Clint—found a whiskey that tasted like summer bonfires and shared it around.

By the end, they were all leaning back, rubbing full bellies, half-laughing at how ridiculous the day had turned out.

For the first time since the invasion, since Loki, since the chaos and battle… there was peace.

And for just a moment, none of them were soldiers, spies, or gods.

They were people sharing a table, trading jokes, and tasting the stars.