Harley stumbled as he emerged from Doctor Strange's glowing portal, his sneakers squeaking against the polished wooden floor. He blinked, adjusting to the dim light and the sudden quiet. The trio stood in the heart of the Sanctum Sanctorum, its otherworldly décor a stark contrast to the chaos they’d just left behind. Ancient artifacts lined the walls, their shapes casting strange shadows, while an ornate window bearing the Seal of Vishanti glowed faintly with magical energy.

Deadpool appeared next, freed from Strange’s binding spell mid-step, and immediately began spinning in circles like a kid in a candy store. “Oooh, spooky Hogwarts vibes! Ten out of ten for ambiance, Stevie. Is there a gift shop? I want a T-shirt that says ‘I survived the Sanctum!’”

Logan growled as he stepped through, taking in the room with his usual suspicion. “This where you’re gonna tell us we broke reality?”

Strange closed the portal with a flick of his wrist, the sparks fading into the air. “Reality isn’t broken. Yet. But you’ve certainly put it at risk.”

Harley’s anxiety spiked as he clutched the timepad tighter. “Look, we didn’t mean to do anything wrong. We were just trying to get away from the TVA before they—well, you know.”

“Vaporized us,” Deadpool offered helpfully. “Standard bureaucratic execution. Very drab. I’d give it a C-minus.”

Strange ignored Deadpool and turned his attention to Harley. “That device you’re holding is a timepad, one of the most advanced tools for navigating the multiverse. In the wrong hands, it’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

Deadpool raised a hand. “Uh, correction—it’s currently in the wrong hands. That’s kind of our whole thing.”

Strange sighed. “And yet, here you are, still breathing.” He motioned to the timepad. “May I?”

Harley hesitated but nodded, handing the timepad to Strange. The sorcerer studied it carefully, tracing its edge with a glowing finger.

Logan crossed his arms. “You seem to know a lot about this TVA stuff. What’s the deal with them?”

Strange placed the timepad on a nearby pedestal and began conjuring a swirling, holographic image of the multiverse. “The TVA claims to maintain the Sacred Timeline—the flow of events that ensures the stability of the multiverse. Their methods are… extreme.”

“They’re psychotic pencil pushers with disintegration sticks,” Deadpool chimed in. “Also, their cafeteria is terrible. No chimichangas!”

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Strange ignored him. “When you escaped their custody, you created an anomaly. They’d already been hunting you because of your meddling, but now they’ll see you as a direct threat to their authority. If they catch you again, there won’t be any second chances.”

Harley ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of the situation. “So what do we do? How do we fix this?”

Strange’s holographic display shifted, showing branching timelines that splintered and twisted chaotically. “The damage you’ve caused is already spreading. The Avengers timeline you just visited—it’s a critical juncture in their history. Your interference may have changed events in ways we can’t predict.”

“Define ‘critical,’” Logan said gruffly.

Strange pointed to a glowing branch on the display. “The conflict between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers determines the future of their world. If that balance is disrupted, their Earth could fall into chaos, or worse, collapse entirely.”

Deadpool raised a finger. “So… not critical like a paper cut. More like ‘oops, we broke the universe.’ Got it!”

Harley’s face went pale. “We didn’t mean to mess with them. We just… landed there!”

Strange turned to him with an unreadable expression. “Intentions are irrelevant when dealing with the fabric of reality. But the fact remains—you three are anomalies. The TVA may be brutal, but they serve a purpose.”

Deadpool scoffed. “Oh, please. Like we’re going to trust a bunch of time cops who dress like bad sci-fi extras. What’s your plan, Doctor Strange-o?”

Strange ignored the jab and turned to Logan. “I need to know if you’re willing to cooperate. If we don’t act carefully, we’ll make things worse.”

Logan’s claws extended with a familiar snikt. “You mean we haven’t hit rock bottom yet? Fine. What’s the plan?”

Strange gestured toward the timepad. “We’ll use this to trace the anomalies you’ve created and repair them before they spread further. But it won’t be easy. The TVA won’t stop hunting you, and there may be… resistance in the timelines you’ve disrupted.”

Harley frowned. “Resistance? Like… people fighting us?”

“Or worse,” Strange said ominously.

Deadpool clapped his hands. “Oh, goody! Resistance! It’s like a video game quest but with higher stakes and fewer save points. I call shotgun on timeline-saving!”

Strange looked to Harley, his expression softening slightly. “You seem to be the only one here who understands the gravity of what’s happening. I’ll need your help to keep these two under control.”

Harley glanced at Logan and Deadpool—one a grizzled berserker, the other a walking meme—and sighed. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

Strange nodded. “Good. Then we begin immediately.” He summoned another portal, this one shimmering with a kaleidoscope of colors.

“Wait,” Harley said nervously. “Where are we going first?”

Strange stepped through the portal, his voice echoing as he disappeared. “To the beginning of your mess—back to the Avengers’ timeline.”

Deadpool grinned, unsheathing his katanas. “Oh, this is going to be fun. Or traumatic. Either way, I’m in!”

Logan muttered something under his breath and followed, while Harley hesitated at the edge of the portal.

“Don’t worry, Harley,” Deadpool called back. “You’re the star of this story! You’re practically unkillable… unless the author decides to be cruel.”

Harley gulped and stepped through, bracing himself for whatever came next.