On Omega you can find the most strange and demented creatres in the galaxy. A space station situated in a gigantic hollowed out asteroid hovering in the middle of the pirate controlled Terminus Systems. Omega was always the place to cacth a few girls - dancers or hookers. Omega was always the place to earn some bloody credits for the desperate. Omega was and always will be the 'last-resort' for many people out there.

So, as the artificial night blankets the horizon, many people head home; but, many head out to do bussiness. The latter applies for the crimson suited figure sitting haunched, like a gragoyle, on the parapet of a nearby news antenna.

"Ok. Rain-check… Smells like burritos. Bullet count… enough to make a scale model of Russia. Body count… more than my grandma's age. Food supplies… Crap load of tacos and an ass-load of sexy Chimichangas. Finger count… 9 as usual, wait! Damn stood on my pinkie, ahh it'll heal right up. Mask… Tightened. Teleporter… not fucking up for a change. Balloons… Here you are. Whoops! Those are condoms! Anyways… Um here they are! Katanas… Bitch-sexy as I remember them. Pistols… Locked, loaded and laid. Alright I think I'm good. Ba-zing, bang, slash… Sound effects wicked. Now… Let's go start some Deadpoolage!"

The smoke from a nearby food stand rose up and made coverage for him to leap off his perch and hurtle down to the ground thousands of feet from his body. Howling with delight and adrenaline fueling his crazed descent, his two white beady eyes flared with mad joy inside the black blotches on his red mask. The ground was getting closer, the people getting bigger, his chances of living narrower. Unfortunately, none of this mattered because all he did was merely smile and keep streamlined before smacking the floor. However, instead of a corpse, all that was left was a faint red mist.

Some nearby bystanders stared at the ground in disbelief and looked around stunned for any sign of the suited figure. Something, like that though would have been impossible for a normal person to survive... But, this person. He wasn't anything close to human anymore.

On top of the few crates - in the shady corners of the Omega slums, sat the most infamous mercenary in the known universe. A man dressed in a full one piece red costume with black streaks down the sides, not only that he also wore a mask with black blotches and white little beady eyes in the centre. To reinforce the fact that he was in fact the best, he carried around an arsenal of weaponry. He was a walking armory. Attached with a single an Avenger assault rifle, two retro silver handguns, two sub-machine guns, two steel katanas a handful of grenades, two knives, a teleportation device, etc.

He was the best. Well, at least that's what he spews to the people of Omega. And they lap it up, like its Gospel. And why shouldnt they? Since the Archangel left the "Merc with a mouth" has made Omega his home, his hunting grounds, his kill-zone.

When anyone needed some 'wet-work' done, this was your guy. He delivered results in the most unorthadox ways possible, but there was no rguing he got the job done. Just make sure you have the credits handy, or... well I'll let your imagination run free on that one.

"Okay, okay! I don't a 20 minute long narration before shit gets started. This isn't Pacific Rim you know." The merc said to no one in particular

The red figure puffed a gust of air and turned his attention to a dark cramped alleyway. The types out of a typical movie, only this one had a lot more litter and shady looking people. The Merc pointed his thumb in its direction while keeping a firm gaze on it.

"See in there chaps. Oh, What am I saying! This is a Fanfiction, there are no pictures. Pfft! But anyway use your lovely imaginations, and picture my target in there. Dude goes by the name Zay-Ide. Messed up name, takes more effort to pronounce than: Ra's Al Ghul!" He turned his head to sky and raised an eyebrow. "Say, what? Za-eed. That's his name? You, sure? Well of course you wrote it so you'd know, my little yellow friend!"

He hopped off the crate and strolled towards the deserted alleyway. Pride followed his steps and he swung his arms too far forward, with his head swinging from side to side alternating with his footsteps. Almost like how an old-fashioned pimp would be portrayed in a typical children's movie. The merc then proceeded to hum a tune.

"Smack dat! All own da flow! Smack dat! Gimme sum more! Smack dat! oooooohhhh!"

With only a few steps into his journey, the crimson figure froze and turned backward "By the way my little fan-boys and girls, my name's Wade. Wade Winston Wilson. But, if you call me that I might just have to kill you! So to avoid a painful and permanent death: call me Deadpool!" He winked and pressed his back against a wall; Quickly he reached inside his satchel to retrieve a rectangular plastic object beofre taping it to the wall. Shortly after he snatched another but unfortunately is broke in half.

"Ahh, damn! No, worries, though. Duct-tape fixes everything, from: broken bones and severed limbs to smashed pc-screens."

Deadpoolcontinued on to vigorously wrap the plastic thing with tape. He checked a few wires just beofre attaching it to the wall, making sure to check it was placed correctly. On he went until he made a profane portrait using the objects

"Now we're blowing!" Deadpool nodded in pride, arms at his sides. "Gotta love the miracle of art. Beautiful she is!"

THe merc stood back, hands on hips, admiring his so called piece of art. On the wall ahead of him was a very rudimentary image of a woman's breasts and what supposed to be nipples.

"Lovely don't you guys think? The new pop-art if you will. Kids, you better follow in my footsteps." Deadpool joked aroung with the no one once again, "Now, plastic explosives are rigged! Zaeed, my not-so-retardidly-sounding friend, this is the red before the storm!"

Deadpool hopped up, bringing his legs into a perfect splits in the air, and then landed without a thud a primed detonator held in his hand; Deadpool flicked open the cap and held his thumb an inch away from the flashing button.

He smiled and raised an eyebrow, "Now, before I torch this mother and carry on with my epicicly epic adventuring-adventure, I want you! (I'm pointing at you reader, that's right!) To write me a review about how wicked, or how lame – but I dunno why you'd want to do that? – 'bout this fanfic! I'll give you a spoiler on what's about to happen… I get to beat up a couple of bastarians -Deadpool style of course - and after I get to see Tony Parker! Stay tuned, cuz it's gonna be freakin ball-sweating action!... KABOOM! Haha, just kidding. I had you there though!"