Marvel's Omniversal Traveler

— –Tony Stark– —

War.

War never changes.

It was nothing but a dick-measuring contest, where the side with the biggest, scariest dick would claim victory.

Tony had long since accepted this bleak reality. He had built his entire life around it, after all, building weapons so frightening, so devastatingly powerful, that no enemy would dare raise a finger against his country.

His father had understood this principle. Project Manhattan was proof enough of that, a weapon so terrifying it ended the second "War to end all wars" with one blinding flash. Howard Stark had helped birth the atomic bomb, securing America's dominance.

Tony had followed in his father's footsteps. Jericho was his atomic bomb, his ultimate deterrent. One launch, and wars would end. America would remain untouchable.

Or so he'd thought.

But recently, Tony's certainty had started to crack. The weapons he'd crafted to safeguard peace were now pointed straight at him, in the hands of terrorists he'd sworn to stop countless times in interviews.

He honestly might have found the irony amusing were it not for the fact that he was in the middle of nowhere.

Now he was trapped, bruised, bleeding, and building another Jericho at gunpoint. Or well, at least pretending to. The terrorists tortured him when he refused, and he learned quickly to appear cooperative, buying himself just enough time to plot an escape, or at least die trying.

Yet death, so close at hand, with metal shrapnel literally about to pierce his heart, had a way of making a man re-examine his life choices.

And Tony's life felt hollow.

He'd chased every high imaginable, models, money, fame, the rush of pushing every boundary, and still found himself empty. Countless women had warmed his bed, each beautiful and eager, yet none could make him feel fulfilled, even as he "filled" them.

The endless parties, the fast cars, even the thrill of creating technology more advanced than any other, none of it filled the void he stubbornly ignored inside himself.

Trapped here, stripped of his comforts and forced to stare death in the eye, Tony finally admitted something he'd known deep down all along.

He was chasing shadows. And now, facing an impossible situation, Tony wondered bitterly what his father would have done. 

The thought almost made him laugh.

Here he was, the smartest man on earth, reduced to a kid with daddy issues that rivaled, or surpassed, those of the countless models he'd entertained.

It was almost comical that it had taken a cave, a car battery hooked to his chest, and a bunch of lunatics with guns for him to finally realize it.

"Fuck…" Tony couldn't help but curse as he grasped at his chest, a sharp pain snapping him out of his thoughts. He quickly adjusted the wires on the car battery next to him, ensuring they had a proper connection once again before sighing. The battery was starting to run out of power, and he would have to hook himself up to a charger again.

He really was getting sick of it.

Funny, he always dreamed of building the ultimate weapon, yet here he was, using scraps of metal just to keep his heart beating.

"Yinsen, get ready. We're going to be handling Palladium soon, so we'll have to move fast. We only have one shot at this, so take a break, meditate or something. We'll be starting in 30 minutes." He instructed, turning back to the sketches scattered on the crude table in front of him.

A mini arc reactor.

To be honest, it had always been just another flashy gimmick, a publicity stunt Stark Industries pulled to quiet down environmental activists. Tony never seriously considered it as anything beyond a novelty, certainly not something he'd ever stake his life on.

And yet, here he was, stranded in a dark cave, working feverishly on exactly that, a miniaturized arc reactor, just to keep himself alive.

He'd nearly forgotten all about the thing, but thankfully, the blueprints were fresh enough in his memory. They'd resurfaced at just the right time, all because some kid had randomly stumbled into Stark Industries some time ago carrying a note that Tony himself had apparently scribbled during some drunken night he no longer recalled.

Pepper had shown him the letter, it was authentic enough. The kid had come seeking a job designing weapons, trying to live up to his father's legacy. It was a story he could relate to, maybe a little too much, enough so that he'd briefly considered inviting the kid in personally.

If he was anything like Sebastian, Tony figured he might actually be worth the trouble.

But what really caught his interest was Pepper mentioning how the kid had shown particular enthusiasm for the arc reactor.

And here he was using that to try to build himself a new battery for his heart. 

Maybe it was fate?

"I owe that kid a beer." Tony muttered softly, a small, weary smirk flickering across his lips. "No, better yet, a fine whisky."

As soon as he said it, his throat burned painfully, reminding him just how thirsty he was. He glanced back at the stale water they'd provided him and frowned, disappointed. Not exactly the Scotch he was dreaming of.

Picking up the battery powering the magnet in his heart, he walked over next to one of his missiles to grab a few more parts he would need. Yet, seeing the logo of his company, he couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh.

Weapons or arc reactors, once, the choice had seemed so obvious. 

Stark Industries had been built on a foundation of war and destruction, growing fat on contracts signed in blood. Tony had never thought much about it before; that was just business. But, well, in a way, a really morbidly ironic way, it no longer was.

Maybe it really was time for a change.

The decision settled in him with surprising clarity.

If he managed to escape this cave alive, Stark Industries would never sell another weapon again.

 — –Alex Montclair– —

A mini arc reactor…

"How the hell did Stark build this thing in a cave?" Alex grumbled loudly, carefully setting aside yet another failed imitation. He'd started working on it as a hobby, an attempt to replicate Stark's impossible achievement using the memories of bits and pieces of tech he'd carried over from his original world. Predictably, all he'd managed to build was a highly sophisticated and extremely volatile battery.

'No.' He corrected himself mentally. 'Not a battery, a bomb. I built a bomb.'

He eyed the deceptively innocent-looking device sitting atop his desk. It held an impressive amount of energy, but one wrong jolt and it would blow him into next week. 

Maybe he could repurpose it. Throw it at any random villain who might decide to drop by and cause trouble, and then sprint away as fast as his legs could carry him. Honestly, out of all the ideas he'd had in the past two months, that one probably wasn't even the worst, if you ignored the minor detail of carrying a live explosive everywhere he went.

Two months had passed since he had woken up in this world. There was still no word about Tony Stark's fate, and that gnawed at him more than he'd admit. But worrying would solve nothing. All he could do was wait, watch the news, and prepare himself for whatever came next without landing in some unnecessarily complicated mess.

His days had grown busy, chaotic even, judging from the clutter that had completely overwhelmed his workspace. 

Poor Alfred simply couldn't keep up. 

Alex couldn't help but glance sympathetically at the small robot vacuum bumping hopelessly against a pile of cables. Alfred wasn't exactly a J.A.R.V.I.S. level companion, just a mildly upgraded Roomba, but Alex had grown oddly attached to it. 

Naming random household objects was hardly his style, but he could feel himself starting to lose it the more time he spent in the house. Which was practically all his time, except when he went out running.

He felt like he was in danger. Like he was being watched. But not in the "Ah yeah, S.H.I.E.L.D. has placed cameras all over your house, and now the bald man is looking at everything you do." sort of way, but in the "There are demons living in your walls." sort of way.

It felt ridiculous, honestly. He had even "accidentally" ripped the drywall out of one of his walls to calm himself down. But the nagging feeling wouldn't go away.

Maybe he ought to book himself a therapist. There was the chance that this world's version of himself had undiagnosed mental issues, well, aside from the depression.

…

Well, at least Alfred listened to him complain without interrupting.

To keep himself sane, he had been spending more time outside. He was less productive when it came to learning, but it was better for his cardiovascular health. So, he counted that as a win.

Sure, he could just use the treadmill in his gym, but that kinda defeated the purpose. And now that he wasn't on the verge of dying every time he stepped outside, he had begun to enjoy the sights around him.

One of the funniest discoveries had been realizing Spider-Man's biggest hater was actually one of his neighbors. Alex had never actually spoken to the man, but it became an amusing highlight of his jogging sessions whenever he passed by JJJ's house. Surprisingly friendly, though; the old guy always waved at Alex whenever he jogged past.

Though other than keeping away the "scary monsters" in his head, jogging did have other benefits.

The hour-long runs let him disconnect his overly active mind from the stress. It was peaceful, freeing even. And strangely enough, whenever he was stuck on a particularly frustrating problem, a good run often cleared his mind enough to find a solution.

Or, more frequently, inspired him to build another accidental bomb.

He really needed to stop doing that. One of these days, his luck would actually run out, and he'd be scraping himself off the walls.

Taking a few moments to deactivate the makeshift "arc reactor" in his hands, Alex sighed. Then, his thoughts were interrupted after feeling another chill up his spine, the same feeling of being watched. Finally, he threw his arms into the air.

"Alright, that's it." He muttered harshly as he tossed the now inactive explosive to the side. "Alfred, watch the house, I'm going out. Hell, maybe I won't even come back. I'm fucking sick of this place."

Slipping on his shoes roughly, he slammed the door behind him and immediately broke into a run, letting the burning frustration drive him forward. He needed to calm down before he blew up, metaphorically and literally.

Maybe it was the house; perhaps it was the "demons" haunting him, but he was sick of it. 

No, that wasn't entirely true. He was lying to himself. The reality was, he couldn't handle it anymore. He wanted to go home, his real home.

He didn't want to be here, dealing with Stark, Xavier, Strange, or any of the superheroes and villains whose paths he was bound to cross.

Maybe it was all the stress that was causing him to hallucinate. Or maybe it was the freaking mental issues this version of himself had left him. Maybe the multiverse portal had side effects of making you go crazy, but he had enough.

He was exhausted. He had been exhausted from day one and had simply pretended everything was okay.

Pretended—

Shit.

"Ah!" A girl's startled voice echoed as Alex collided into someone rounding the corner near the edge of his neighborhood. They both went down hard, Alex's knee and arm scraping painfully against the rough pavement. 

Looking up with a wince, he saw a girl sprawled on the sidewalk next to him, a dazed look on her face. She wore an oversized white hoodie that contrasted sharply with her bright blue eyes and platinum-blonde hair, loosely tied up into a messy bun. She was beautiful, strikingly so, but the heavy shadows beneath her eyes and slightly reddened cheeks told him clearly she was having a rough day herself.

Granted, colliding full-speed into her probably hadn't improved things.

"I'm so sorry, I was just lost in thought and—" Alex tried to apologize quickly, his embarrassment overtaking the frustration.

"No, no, it's okay. It was my bad; I wasn't paying attention." The girl interrupted gently, scrambling upright as she shot him an apologetic glance. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it's just—" Alex started, then sighed heavily, struggling to find words. Eventually, he offered a tired smile. "What a mess, huh?"

The girl hesitated, eyes lingering curiously on his face before her expression softened into an empathetic one. After a moment, she tilted her head slightly, as if debating something, before softly asking.

"Tough day?"

"Yeah, you could say that. You?" Alex answered with a dry chuckle, shaking his head.

A tiny, almost bitter smile flickered across her lips. 

"Yeah, you could definitely say that." She echoed, sighing as she leaned wearily against the nearby wall.

Alex glanced at her quietly for a second before following suit, leaning against the wall next to her and examining the scrape on his arm. A thin trail of blood trickled down his skin, stinging slightly as he touched it. Yet, deciding there was nothing he could really do at the moment, he let it go and instead turned his attention back to the girl.

"Did you get hurt at all?" He asked, a bit concerned.

"Nah." She replied with a small shrug. "I'm pretty good at falling. One of the few perks of doing ballet."

"Ballet, huh?" Alex asked with some curiosity. "That's pretty cool."

"You'd think." She muttered, full of bitterness. "Apparently, not as cool as going to another stupid party."

Alex only spared a glance at her, noticing her frown and her clenched fists as she muttered the last part. It didn't take a genius to guess that someone hadn't gone to one of her dances. The air was somewhat awkward between them, but looking up at the sky for a few moments, Alex decided to be the one to break the silence.

He was probably never going to see her again anyway. Might as well unload a little of his baggage before getting back to his life.

"You ever think about just running away?" He asked, slowly sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the cold concrete.

The girl flinched slightly, clearly caught off guard by the blunt question. But, after hesitating for a second, she followed his example, gently sinking down next to him.

"Every day." She admitted softly, her eyes locked on something far away.

Alex chuckled weakly, burying his face briefly in his palms. After rubbing his tired eyes, he finally leaned back against the rough wall.

"I can't stand my house." Alex muttered, mostly to himself.

"Me neither." The girl answered almost immediately, surprising him a bit with her quiet intensity.

"Tomb?" Alex offered softly, glancing over with a slight smirk.

She raised an eyebrow curiously, hesitating a second before letting out a quiet, unexpected chuckle. Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she turned toward him.

"Prison, for me." She replied quietly, smiling a little as she studied him. "You live around here, right?"

"Yeah, the house with the giant Egyptian cat statue out front." Alex said, turning fully to look at her now.

Her eyes lit up briefly, recognition flickering across her face. 

"Oh, my mom hates that statue." She said with faint amusement.

"Really?" Alex tilted his head slightly, grinning despite himself. "I actually kinda like it."

She stared at him incredulously for a moment before suddenly breaking into giggles, which quickly escalated into genuine laughter, brightening her tired face instantly.

"I'm sorry—it's just… this is weird, right?" She asked, covering her mouth with her hand as she shook her head, still smiling. "Like, really weird?"

Alex felt his own smile widen, shaking his head lightly as he joined in on the laughter. 

"Maybe a little." He admitted quietly.

Honestly, though, he already felt lighter, the anxiety and frustration from earlier fading into something far more manageable. Just talking with this random girl, someone who seemed to understand exactly how he felt, even if it was just for a moment, had somehow calmed his mind more than any run or invention ever had.

"I'm Alex…. Alex Montclair." He introduced himself, extending his hand to her.

"Tandy." She answered, grasping his hand firmly. "Tandy Bowen."

Honestly, he hadn't realized it until now, but maybe meeting someone new was what he had been missing. Someone completely unrelated to the mess that was the Marvel universe. The name didn't sound familiar at all, which probably meant she was just another random civilian like him. It also meant she was someone with whom he could interact without worrying about creating a massive butterfly effect.

"Do you, uh…" Tandy started uncertainly, picking nervously at the hem of her oversized hoodie before finding a spark of courage. "Do you usually run around here? I heard on the news that people have been going missing lately, so maybe, if you don't mind, we could run together. You know? For, uh… safety."

"Weren't those disappearances happening over near East Harlem? Isn't that kinda far from here?" Alex asked with a teasing grin, unable to hide the amusement in his voice as he watched Tandy's cheeks flush slightly in embarrassment. Before she could react too much, he softened his tone. "But, nah, you're right. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"Right." Tandy answered quickly, the tension visibly easing from her shoulders. "Better safe than sorry."

A comfortable silence settled between them again, though this time, it felt less awkward and more reassuring. Alex found himself surprised at just how relieved he felt at the prospect of having someone else around

"Well, I run most days around this time." Alex finally said, giving her a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Feel free to join me whenever. My tomb can get pretty lonely anyway."

Tandy's expression brightened again, a genuine smile spreading across her face. 

"Sounds perfect."

Standing up, she pulled out her phone, eyes widening as she let out a soft curse.

"Shit, erm, I mean, crap. I, uh, I'm gonna be late for practice. But it was nice meeting you, Alex," she said, offering him one final bright smile before quickly jogging away. After a few steps, she paused, turning around abruptly. "Almost forgot, what's your number? I'll send you a message next time I go out."

Giving her his number, Alex watched as she quickly disappeared around the corner. Still sitting on the cold concrete, he couldn't help but feel oddly stunned.

Did he just flirt with her? No, wait, it would be the other way around.

No, it was just casual conversation. Right?

It wasn't as if he was totally clueless, but the sudden emotional shift was dizzying. One moment he was spiraling into a mental breakdown, and the next, he was sitting comfortably next to a random girl with strangely similar problems.

Well, maybe not entirely similar. Honestly, he'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who could genuinely relate to his situation.

Shaking his head softly, Alex slowly stood up and brushed the gravel from his pants, deciding it was better to just accept the unexpected moment for what it was.

Walking back to his house, this time more slowly, he used the time he had to simply breathe in the fresh air and calm down. And as he opened the doors to his house, he couldn't help but let out another sigh.

"What a mess…" He muttered as he walked in and picked up Alfred, cleaning the wires clogging it before setting it back down. He watched as the small Roomba began to vacuum once again, moving towards another pile of scrap before bumping against it and getting clogged once again.

"Yeah, sounds about right."

Moving slower than before, he walked to his computer to put in an order for cleaning supplies as well as some good trash bags.

He hadn't taken a break in two months, and that mess had slowly accumulated even if he tried to be somewhat clean. The past few weeks specifically started to make him spiral, and it was only now that he looked at it with a clear mind that he realized just how much of a mess he was turning into.

He had to pick up after himself.

Maybe he needed a break, a break from all the learning, a break from all the worrying. Something to reset his mind before he actually went crazy.

"One more month."

He had a month to prepare before his first day of college.

The time was going to be tight, but he had to add a new variable to the equation. His mental health. He had to pick up a hobby, an actual hobby that would let him rest his mind.

— –Charles Xavier– —

Silence.

It was almost unnerving.

The Omega-level mutant was nowhere to be found. Over three months had passed since Charles first detected their presence, and now it felt as if the trail had gone completely cold.

At this point, Charles was almost sure that one of his worries was true.

The first theory that had come to his mind was the worry that someone else might have reached them first, pulling them out of sight before he even had a chance. But he knew that was unlikely. Had he not been actively using Cerebro at that precise moment, even he wouldn't have realized their existence. Anyone else noticing them before Charles did would have been an extraordinary stroke of luck, or perhaps a terrifying show of power.

Removing Cerebro carefully, Charles placed it back on its pedestal and sighed deeply.

"Any luck?" Hank McCoy's voice cut gently through the quiet, echoing softly off Cerebro's metal walls.

"No. Even with your adjustments, the calibration still feels off." Charles admitted, turning slowly to face his trusted friend. "I've detected other mutants around the area, but none match the energy signature of the one we encountered that day."

Hank eyed him carefully, recognizing something deeper hidden in Charles' voice. 

"What's on your mind, Charles?"

His second theory.

"Their abilities might be preventing us from locating them." Charles answered thoughtfully.

"Similar to Emma Frost?" Hank suggested, gently guiding Charles toward the exit.

"In a way, yes." Charles nodded as they walked together down the hallway. "Perhaps another Omega-level telepath, powerful enough to shield themselves completely. Or maybe someone with transformative abilities that disrupt my reach, similar to how Emma's diamond form does. Kate Pryde, too, when she phases, her mind can partially evade me. It's possible this mutant possesses a similar power. And truthfully, I'd much prefer that scenario to the alternative."

Hank hesitated mid-step, concern flashing briefly across his face as realization dawned. 

"The alternative…" He swallowed uneasily. "You don't think…"

"Precisely." Charles paused, letting out another weary sigh. "I fear their own powers might have killed them."

Mutations manifested in infinite ways, from harmless changes like feathered wings, to volatile powers like teleportation or spatial manipulation. A newly awakened mutant teleporting accidentally into the vacuum of space, suffocating before they could even comprehend their fate. Or perhaps their ability was something as seemingly mundane as size manipulation, shrinking uncontrollably until they simply vanished from existence.

Even someone like Scott, whose power could destroy buildings in an instant, could have easily caused their own death upon awakening. All it would've taken was one glance at the wrong time or place, and the ceiling might have collapsed upon him.

Charles felt a deep ache settle in his chest at the thought. To lose a mutant of such immense potential so senselessly, before they ever had a chance to live, to learn, was almost too painful to consider.

Of his three theories, the last was the one he feared the most. For their sake, Charles desperately hoped he was wrong.

A sudden ripple of panic passed through him, sharp enough to pull him from his troubled thoughts. Instinctively, he closed his eyes and reached out across the mansion grounds, carefully touching the minds of his students one by one to ensure they were safe.

All present, all safe, but as his awareness brushed against each of them, a cold dread began to form.

One was missing.

Beta Reader: @Basilisk, @Kiyan Tribe

~A/N~

Ah, Tandy, the first of the "Who tf is this character?" when they go by their real names. Like I said, he is not a Marvel Wiki. He has about the same amount of knowledge as an average person. Also, I wonder who is missing? Lemme know your theories!

Anyways, this is for realsies the last of my "bulk" upload, I just wanted to get to the 15k needed for Webnovel to show it on the rankings to help bring more people. So give some power stones! For now I will actually slow the updates to once a week, since I do have two other stories I also need to write.

Also, drop some comments! They motivate me to write! Even if I don't answer to all, because sometimes, I don't really know how to answer to them lol.