The swirling golden light of the TVA portal faded, and Harley, Deadpool, and Wolverine found themselves standing in the middle of a bustling New York street. Horns blared, brakes screeched, and pedestrians shouted as the sudden appearance of three disheveled strangers caused an instant uproar.

“Uh, guys,” Harley said nervously, glancing around at the chaos their arrival had sparked. “I think we just made an entrance.”

Deadpool stretched his arms and took in the scene with a flourish. “Ah, New York! The Big Apple! Land of overpriced pizza and Spider-Men swinging from every other building. Smells like home.”

Logan growled, already scanning the area for threats. “This doesn’t feel right. Something’s off.”

Before anyone could reply, a voice rang out from above.

“What the hell is that portal?”

The trio looked up to see none other than Sam Wilson, the Falcon, swooping down from above, his wings spread wide. Behind him, Iron Man himself descended in his gleaming red-and-gold armor, jets firing as he hovered over the street.

Deadpool let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my God, it’s him! It’s the billionaire genius playboy philanthropist! Tony Stark in the flesh—or, well, the metal!”

Iron Man’s faceplate snapped up, revealing a very unimpressed Tony Stark. “Who are you clowns, and why are you messing with New York’s traffic patterns?”

Harley froze, his heart pounding. Seeing Iron Man in person was surreal, like stepping into the pages of his favorite comic book. “Uh… hi, Mr. Stark,” he stammered. “Big fan. Huge fan.”

Logan stepped forward, his claws extending with a snikt. “We’re not here to make friends. We need answers.”

Tony raised a brow, his scanners already locking onto Logan. “Oh great, another guy with sharp claws and a bad attitude. Like I don’t have enough of those to deal with.”

Falcon landed next to him, folding his wings. “So, what’s the deal? You guys with Hydra or something?”

Deadpool wagged a finger at Sam. “Hydra? Oh, please. Do we look like we own matching uniforms? Actually, Logan does have a thing for spandex, but that’s another story.”

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Before anyone could respond, another figure joined the scene. Steve Rogers—Captain America himself—stepped out from the shadows of a nearby alley, his iconic shield strapped to his back.

“Stark,” Steve said, his tone cautious, “any idea who these guys are?”

Tony sighed. “Not a clue, Cap. But they’re already ruining my day, so they’re not off to a great start.”

Harley was losing his mind. Captain America and Iron Man, standing right in front of him? This was the Civil War timeline. He could feel the tension crackling in the air between the two Avengers.

Deadpool, of course, was completely oblivious to the gravity of the situation. “Oh, this is rich. Team Cap and Team Irony! Let me guess, you’re all about freedom, and he’s all about control. Or is it vice versa? I always mix those up.”

Steve frowned. “Are you mocking us?”

“Mocking? No! Admiring, really,” Deadpool said with a mock bow. “You guys are legends. Heroes. Icons. Well, except Tony. He’s a bit of a jerk, but we love him anyway.”

Tony raised a hand, his repulsor charging. “I’m this close to blasting you into next week.”

Logan stepped between them, claws raised. “Try it, tin man.”

Before things could escalate further, the screech of tires drew everyone’s attention. A black SUV skidded to a halt, and out stepped Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, along with a very agitated-looking T’Challa, the Black Panther.

“Stark, Rogers,” Natasha said, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. “What’s going on?”

T’Challa’s gaze zeroed in on Logan. “You… smell familiar.”

Logan’s eyes widened slightly, recognition flickering across his face. “You’re not wrong, kid. But this isn’t the time.”

Harley, feeling entirely out of his depth, whispered to Deadpool, “Maybe we should explain ourselves before someone decides to turn us into Swiss cheese?”

Deadpool patted him on the shoulder. “Relax, Harley. I’ve got this.” He stepped forward, raising his hands theatrically. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Civil War ensemble cast, we’re just humble time travelers passing through. No need to get your spandex in a twist!”

Tony’s scanners beeped again, this time locking onto the timepad in Harley’s hands. “Time travelers? That thing you’re holding—where did you get it?”

Harley gulped. “Uh… it’s a long story.”

Steve exchanged a wary glance with Natasha. “We need to take them in. If they’ve tampered with time—”

“Oh, we’ve tampered, all right!” Deadpool interrupted. “But it’s not like we broke anything important. Unless you count TVA property, in which case, whoopsie.”

The name “TVA” seemed to make Tony pause, his expression turning grim. “TVA? As in, the Time Variance Authority?”

Falcon looked confused. “What’s the TVA?”

Tony ignored him, his focus narrowing on the trio. “You’ve got about ten seconds to explain what you’re doing here before this turns ugly.”

Logan growled, stepping in front of Harley protectively. “We’re not looking for a fight. But if you want one, I’m ready.”

The tension was palpable, the battle lines drawn. Harley clutched the timepad, wishing he could disappear.