Marvel: A Journey Begins From the Zombieverse

In the spacious training room, Noah stood shirtless on one side, his gaze fixed on the imposing Doom bot before him. The robot's large, metallic frame exuded an indomitable aura. Its green eyes glowed coldly, like a predator sizing up its prey.

In the next moment, the robot raised its fist and charged. Noah swiftly sidestepped, his body twisting like a whip as his leg lashed out, striking the robot's chest. A sharp sound of metal breaking echoed through the air.

"Crack!"

The robot's metallic shell fractured under the immense force, like a piece of fragile glass shattering upon impact.

The sharp noise resonated as the robot's body quivered, an acknowledgment of the devastating blow it had received. Metal fragments scattered, catching the light as they fell, while the bot's mechanical systems faltered, unable to withstand the damage.

The staggered robot wobbled, its circuits emitting a buzzing sound as sparks flickered. Though damaged, it still struggled to launch another attack. However, before it could act, Noah had already moved behind it in a flash.

Grabbing the robot's shoulders, Noah applied a grappling technique, locking the bot's neck in a chokehold. His arms tightened like steel coils, immobilizing the bot.

The robot's arms clawed at Noah's to break free, but sensing the resistance, Noah squinted and tensed every muscle in his body. With a loud shout, he exerted all his strength, pressing down with incredible force.

A dreadful metallic screech filled the room as the robot's neck twisted under the pressure. Cracks spread across the metal like the stress lines of a collapsing structure.

Finally, with a thunderous snap, the robot's head separated from its body. Noah released his grip, and the bot's lifeless remnants collapsed to the ground, completely inert.

It was dead.

Noah exhaled softly, his eyes briefly resting on the metallic head lying on the ground. Its once-glowing green eyes dimmed into nothingness. He looked around, taking in the scattered remains of over a dozen other robots.

Each lay in various states of destruction—some split into multiple pieces, circuitry strewn about; others with chests caved in and shattered surfaces; and some whose heads were so twisted they were unrecognizable.

After briefly attending a party, Noah had been eager to find a training room. When he asked a waiter about it, he hadn't expected them to actually know. The staff had promptly led him here before returning to their duties.

"Clap, clap, clap."

Fury entered, clapping his hands with a smirk. He handed Noah a data sheet.

"Congratulations, Mr. White. It seems you've lived up to the gift I provided."

"What's this?"

Noah took the sheet, curiosity evident on his face.

"This training room, courtesy of Doctor Doom, has observation equipment. It tracks your movements and generates data on your physical capabilities."

"Bench press: 550 kg. Clean and jerk: 370 kg. Max speed: 97 km/h."

Scanning the document, Noah muttered the figures aloud, marveling at the metrics he could understand.

"Your stats even slightly exceed Steve Rogers' prime performance," Fury added with a faint smile. "I have no doubt that if he were to face you now…"

"He'd lose?" Noah interjected with a sly grin, folding the paper and tucking it into his pocket.

Fury's expression remained neutral as he completed the sentence. "...He'd still have a sixty percent chance of winning."

Steve Rogers wasn't just a world-class combatant but also an exceptional strategist and battlefield commander. Not to mention, his indestructible shield. Those traits had allowed him to overpower the Hulk with sheer skill and even go toe-to-toe with a fully armed Thanos for several rounds—a true fifty-fifty matchup.

"And for the record, I doubt Rogers would bother choking a robot. You do realize they don't need to breathe, right?" Fury quipped.

Noah, slipping on his shirt, chuckled awkwardly. This guy really hit the mark, he thought. It's just a little homage.

With the Avengers battling Ultron's forces, Noah couldn't resist mimicking a certain someone who once tried to choke a robot.

Leaving the cleanup to the remaining Doom bots, Noah and Fury exited the room. As they walked, Noah glanced at Fury. "How's the portal preparation coming along?"

"According to Doom, it still needs more time to charge. We're ironing out some critical details."

"Oh?"

"Each person sent through requires an astronomical amount of energy, and accurately targeting a safe parallel universe is incredibly difficult," Fury explained.

"This zombie crisis originated from an extra-dimensional incursion. If we rush and choose an unstable transmission path, we could end up in the zombies' home universe—or somewhere just as dangerous."

"Then it's game over," Fury said grimly. "Dead before dawn."

Noah's expression grew serious as he nodded thoughtfully. Fury's concerns were valid. The current Earth-2149 was in a closed-loop with the zombie-infected Earth-91126.

In simple terms, the zombies from Earth-91126 had transmitted the virus to Earth-2149, infecting its superheroes. In turn, the zombies from Earth-2149 sent the virus back to Earth-91126, perpetuating a cycle. Breaking this loop required careful action.

If they accidentally landed in Earth-91126, they wouldn't find the desolate wasteland cleared by zombie Spider-Man but rather a universe in the early throes of apocalypse.

And that universe was in the midst of the World War Hulk event. Facing the terrifying Green Scar Hulk or Sentry would spell disaster.

Recalling the fate of Ash Williams—who, in another story, had unsuccessfully navigated multiple parallel universes before being dumped into a zombie-infected werewolf world—Noah's resolve hardened.

"Let's find Doom. We need to know exactly how long this will take. If we don't hurry, those zombie heroes will have their sights set on Latveria."

In Doom's lab, the imposing figure of the Doctor stood at the doorway, gazing at a metallic platform in the center. Large and sturdy, it could easily accommodate five or six people. Its sleek silver glow exuded advanced technology.

Around the platform, lab personnel in white coats bustled, adjusting instruments and running tests. Their movements were efficient yet tense under Doom's cold, piercing stare.

No one dared make a mistake under his watchful eyes. Doom might protect his subjects even in the face of the apocalypse, but he was far from lenient with failure.

The high quality of Latverian service staff was no coincidence—their mortality rate was a harsh reminder of Doom's standards.

Crash!

A glass shattered, and the lab fell silent. Time seemed to freeze as everyone turned to look at a trembling technician standing over the shards.

Doom's icy gaze locked onto the man. The weight of his silent judgment made the technician's knees weak. His body tensed as if bracing for death.

The tense atmosphere was broken by the sound of the lab door opening. Noah stepped in with a smile.

"Well, Doom, the party was quite the success."