While Deathstroke and the others were tinkering with the Immolation ritual, Deadpool wandered alone through the city's ruins.
This had once been New York—at least geographically speaking—but now nothing remained except shattered bricks and crumbling walls. A fishy wind blew through the ruins, making sounds like ghosts wailing.
Wade looked as though he had lost his soul. His back was hunched, his shoulders slumped, and he dragged his heavy feet forward bit by bit. Compared to a homeless vagrant, all he lacked was a tattered sack in his hand.
"Sigh!"
Every few steps, he sighed. From time to time, he looked up at the sky covered in bizarre noodles, as if he did not want his tears to fall.
Not far away was the wreckage of a store, probably. The building had collapsed anyway, leaving only half an automatic vending machine by the entrance. The machine was covered in mushrooms—the red caps and white stalks kind.
After examining the machine for a while, he reached in and took out a pack of cigarettes. He tore it open, put one in his mouth, then searched all over himself.
In the end, he still used the Plot Gem to light it.
"Phew..." He exhaled smoke and leaned against a patch of poisonous mushrooms, curling one corner of his mouth. "Guys, I don't want a world like this. The Deadpool and Vanessa here are suffering worse than death. But I can't save them. I've discovered that this Gem is good at everything except saving people. It just doesn't have that feature."
The street was not exactly empty. Just a few steps ahead, several cancerous Meatball people, their bodies oozing pus, rolled down the street. As they rolled, they let out laughter like clanging barbells.
Hearing Deadpool muttering to himself, they looked at him