The fluorescent lights of the police station buzzed overhead as Steve Rogers, Logan, Simon Williams, Vision, Ben Grimm, and James Rhodes were ushered into the processing area. The sterile, tiled floors reflected the tense atmosphere that hung in the air. Each Avenger stood in a line, a mix of irritation and resignation on their faces as they were guided through the standard procedures of arrest and processing.

Steve Rogers, ever the leader, maintained a calm and composed demeanor, though his clenched fists betrayed his frustration. He kept a careful eye on the officers as they took his fingerprints and processed his information. The weight of his shield, now confiscated and sitting on a nearby table, felt like a heavy reminder of the predicament they found themselves in.

Logan, on the other hand, was barely containing his annoyance. The gruff, battle-hardened mutant scowled at the officers, his claws itching to be unsheathed. He muttered under his breath as they tried to take his fingerprints, the scanner struggling to read through his adamantium-enhanced bone structure. When they finally succeeded, he gave the officer a dark look that sent a clear message: don't push your luck.

Simon Williams, still reeling from the bizarre situation they were in, looked more confused than anything else. His dramatic flair and larger-than-life personality seemed dulled by the reality of being in a police station. As they took his information, he leaned over to Steve, whispering, "I didn't think my first day in this world would involve getting arrested."

Steve shot him a reassuring look. "Just keep your head down, Simon. We'll figure this out."

Vision, ever the calm and logical android, complied with the procedures without complaint. His stoic expression didn't betray any emotion as they took his photo and collected his data. Despite the situation, his mind was already racing, analyzing the events that led them here and calculating the best course of action to resolve it.

Ben Grimm, the Thing, stood out among the group like a mountain among hills. His massive, rocky form made the entire process cumbersome for the officers. They had to improvise with equipment, using a specialized scanner to capture his fingerprints and a larger camera to take his mugshot. Despite the inconvenience, Ben remained stoic, though the look on his face suggested he'd rather be anywhere else.

James Rhodes, or Rhodey as he was known to his friends, had the most complicated situation. The War Machine armor, now powered down and stored in a containment unit nearby, was a point of contention. The officers weren't sure how to handle it, and Rhodey had to walk them through the process of safely removing him from the suit. He reluctantly stepped out of the armor, feeling vulnerable without its protection.

"Make sure you don't mess with anything inside," Rhodey warned the officers, his voice carrying a note of authority. "That suit's not just for show."

The officers nodded, clearly intimidated by the tech and the man who wore it. They handled the suit with care, placing it in a secure area, though Rhodey kept a close eye on them the entire time.

They were heroes, used to dealing with world-ending threats, yet here they were, being treated like common criminals. It was a humbling experience, and not one any of them were eager to repeat.

Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, stood among his fellow Avengers, feeling a mix of anxiety and awkwardness. Unlike the others, Peter wasn't as used to dealing with law enforcement on this scale—especially not as a suspect. He shifted uneasily as the officers processed him, pulling his mask off to reveal the young, nervous face underneath.

"Uh, sorry about this," Peter mumbled as they took his fingerprints. The officer gave him a curious look, as if trying to figure out what a kid was doing with a group like this. Peter's youth stood out even more in this environment, making him feel like a fish out of water.

As the group was led into the holding area, Peter stuck close to Steve, hoping to blend in and avoid drawing too much attention to himself. It wasn't every day that he found himself without his mask in such a public place, and the reality of their situation was starting to sink in.

When they finally sat down on the benches in the holding cell, Peter fidgeted, unable to keep still. He glanced around at the others, trying to gauge how they were handling things. Steve seemed as calm as ever, while Logan looked like he was one wrong move away from tearing the place apart. Simon was still processing everything, and Vision was deep in thought, likely running through a thousand scenarios in his head. Ben Grimm, as usual, looked like he'd rather be smashing something, and Rhodey was clearly worried about the War Machine suit.

Peter couldn't help but speak up, his voice betraying his nervousness. "So, uh, this is definitely not how I imagined today going."

Steve gave him a reassuring smile. "None of us did, Peter. But we'll get through this. Just hang tight."

Peter nodded, trying to take comfort in the captain's words. But his mind was still racing. He'd dealt with plenty of villains and dangerous situations before, but getting arrested was a whole new experience. And being without his mask made him feel exposed in a way he wasn't used to.

"Guess I'm not the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man here," Peter muttered to himself, trying to make light of the situation, though the humor fell flat.

Logan shot him a look, his voice gruff but not unkind. "Kid, if you keep worrying, you're gonna give yourself gray hair before your time. We'll be fine."

Peter smiled weakly. "Right. Got it. Don't worry. Just another day in the life, right?"

Simon, picking up on Peter's unease, added with a dramatic flair, "And remember, Peter, every great hero has to go through trials like this. We'll look back on this and laugh one day. Or at least, we'll try."

Ben chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through the cell. "As long as we don't end up in here too long. I got better things to do than sit around."

Rhodey, always the practical one, chimed in, "Let's just hope they don't mess with any of our gear. We'll be out of here soon enough."

Logan paced the cold, sterile floor of the holding cell, his frustration palpable. He hated being confined like this, but what grated on him even more was the complete lack of answers. None of them knew how they had ended up in this strange world, or why they were even here in the first place. Every time he tried to piece it together, all he could recall was a chaotic blur—a villain with flashing eyes, a blinding explosion, and then... nothing.

"Damn it," Logan growled, running a hand through his unruly hair. "None of this makes any sense. What the hell happened? I remember the fight, some bastard with glowing eyes, and then boom—everything goes to hell. But after that, it's all just a big damn blank."

Steve leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed as he tried to make sense of it too. "We remember the same, Logan. There was that explosion, and... we were with Deadpool and Iron Man. But now they're gone, and we have no idea where they are—or where we are, for that matter."

Peter, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "It's weird. It's like someone's messing with us, keeping us in the dark."

Rhodey, ever the pragmatist, leaned against the bars of the cell. "If we don't know where Tony and Wade are, then we've got a problem. And we don't even know who's behind this. We're flying blind here."

Vision, who had been standing with an air of calm contemplation, spoke up, his voice even and measured. "It's possible that the disruption in our memories and communication is a result of some external manipulation. We should remain vigilant and not jump to conclusions until we have more data."

Logan stopped pacing for a moment, his gaze narrowing as he thought back to their last moments before everything went dark. "Deadpool was right there with us. If there's anyone who can survive something like this, it's that crazy son of a bitch. But where the hell is he?"

Steve nodded. "And Tony—he'd have some kind of plan, or at least a way to track us down. The fact that we haven't heard from him is... troubling."

The room fell into a tense silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts, trying to make sense of the pieces they had. Logan resumed his pacing, his mind racing but getting nowhere. The sense of unease was growing, not just because of their circumstances, but because of the nagging feeling that there was something important they were all missing.

Peter finally broke the silence. "So, what do we do now? We're stuck here, no idea where we are, no idea who's behind this... what do we do?"

Steve straightened up, his voice steady. "We stay calm, and we keep our eyes and ears open. We'll find a way out of this, together. But first, we need to figure out where we are and who's running the show here."

Vision added, almost too quickly, "Indeed. Our priority should be gathering information and identifying any potential threats. Only then can we formulate a proper response."

Logan clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking audibly. "Whoever's behind this, they better hope we don't find them first. 'Cause when we do, they're gonna wish they never messed with us."

Ben Grimm, leaning against the wall with his massive arms crossed, was the first to speak up. "This whole thing's got Doctor Doom written all over it. The explosions, the confusion—classic Doom. He's always got some twisted plan up his sleeve. Wouldn't be surprised if he's behind this mess."

Logan, who had finally stopped pacing, snorted. "Maybe. But I've got a feeling it's more in the psychic territory. Emma Frost, Cassandra Nova, or even Bastion—they've all got the brains and the means to pull something like this off. Maybe someone's messing with our minds, making us see things that aren't real, or trapping us in some kind of psychic loop."

Simon perked up at the mention of Emma Frost. "You mean the... uh, you know..." He gestured vaguely, clearly trying to avoid saying something crass but failing miserably. "The one who doesn't really leave much to the imagination?"

Ben Grimm, leaning against the wall with his massive arms crossed, was the first to speak up. "This whole thing's got Doctor Doom written all over it. The explosions, the confusion—classic Doom. He's always got some twisted plan up his sleeve. Wouldn't be surprised if he's behind this mess."

Logan, who had finally stopped pacing, snorted. "Maybe. But I've got a feeling it's more in the psychic territory. Emma Frost, Cassandra Nova, or even Bastion—they've all got the brains and the means to pull something like this off. Maybe someone's messing with our minds, making us see things that aren't real, or trapping us in some kind of psychic loop."

Simon perked up at the mention of Emma Frost. "You mean the... uh, you know..." He gestured vaguely, clearly trying to avoid saying something crass but failing miserably. "The one who doesn't really leave much to the imagination?"

Peter couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, that's Emma. But she's also one of the most powerful telepaths out there. If anyone could mess with our heads like this, she could."

Thing looked over at Peter. "Hey? That goblin guy you fight, do you think he might be behind this?"

"Green Goblin? I wouldn't put it past him. He's smart, but he's not that smart. Doc Ock or Tinkerer though, I wouldn't be surprised."

Steve Rogers, ever the voice of reason, offered his own theory. "It could be a number of things, but my gut tells me this might be something bigger, more calculated. Maybe it's Hydra or AIM—organizations that could gain something from taking us out of the picture. This isn't just random; it feels orchestrated."

Logan crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as he glanced around the room. "So, we've got Doom, psychic warfare, crazy doctors with tentacles, and shadow organizations. Great. That narrows it down to about a hundred different enemies we've made over the years."

As the conversation continued, everyone started sharing their thoughts, but one voice was conspicuously absent. Rhodey noticed and turned to Vision, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

"Vision," Rhodey asked, his tone curious but tinged with concern. "You've been awfully quiet. What do you think happened? Who do you think is behind this?"

All eyes turned to Vision, who appeared almost startled by the question. He blinked, a small flicker of something crossing his face—an expression too quick to catch, gone before anyone could analyze it.

"Well..." Vision began, his voice measured and calm, though it lacked his usual confident cadence. "It's difficult to say without more data. This situation could be the work of an unknown enemy, or perhaps even an ally who has gone rogue. Until we have more information, it's unwise to jump to conclusions."

Logan tilted his head, sensing something off but unable to put his finger on it. "Yeah, but you gotta have some kind of theory, right? You're the data guy."

Vision hesitated for a fraction of a second, then replied, "Perhaps. But without more concrete evidence, any theory would be pure speculation. For now, we should focus on gathering information and finding our missing teammates."

Vision seemed to notice the lingering unease among his teammates. After a brief moment of reflection, he spoke up, his tone sincere. "I must apologize for my earlier reticence. I realize it may have come across as uncharacteristic, but the truth is, I've been processing an enormous amount of data since we arrived here. My systems have been working to adapt to the unique energy signatures and environmental differences in this world, which has caused some temporary fluctuations in my cognitive functions."

He paused, giving them a slight nod. "I didn't want to alarm anyone with this information, but I assure you, I am operating at full capacity now. My primary concern is, as always, our safety and the mission at hand. I regret any concern I may have caused."

The explanation seemed to put the others at ease, and Steve nodded, accepting the apology. "We're all a little on edge, Vision. No need to worry. Let's focus on figuring out what's going on and getting out of here."

———

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi and Chief Kenji Tsuragamae were in a small office within the police station, the air thick with the scent of strong coffee and the hum of computers. The two men were huddled over a terminal, scrutinizing the results that had just come in.

Naomasa leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he processed what he was seeing. "We've run their fingerprints through every database we have access to—nothing. Not a single match anywhere. It's like these people don't even exist."

Chief Tsuragamae, his large, dog-like features set in a serious expression, nodded as he looked over the same data. "No records of any kind. No criminal background, no identification, no history. It's as if they appeared out of thin air."

Naomasa glanced at the X-rays spread out across the table in front of them, his brow furrowing even deeper. "And then there's this... Their organs are... out of place. Not just slightly—completely different from anything we've ever seen. Some of them have redundancies, and others have organs we can't even identify."

The Chief's ears twitched as he studied the images, a low growl rumbling from his throat. "This isn't normal, Tsukauchi. We're dealing with something far beyond the usual scope of our work."

Naomasa nodded slowly, his mind racing. "It's like they aren't even human... or maybe not from this world. The technology they have, the abilities they've displayed—it's not just advanced; it's alien."

Chief Tsuragamae stood up, his demeanor tense. "We need to approach this carefully. If they're a threat, we have to be ready. But if they're allies... We need to figure out what they want and why they're here."

Naomasa agreed, the gravity of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. "I'll see if I can dig up anything else, maybe cross-reference with some of the more classified files. But for now, we have to keep them under close watch."

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi remained at his desk, the faint glow of his computer screen casting long shadows across the room. He was alone now, the bustle of the police station dimmed as the night wore on. The strange results of the Avengers' fingerprints and X-rays gnawed at him—this wasn't just a case of a few missing records; this was something far beyond his usual purview.

He began cross-referencing the mysterious group's details with classified files, some of which were well outside his usual access level. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he navigated through layers of restricted data, using his credentials to unlock archives that even most Pro Heroes wouldn't know existed.

The deeper he dug, the stranger things became. He accessed databases tied to covert government programs, secret hero registries, and files from organizations that dealt with extraterrestrial or interdimensional threats. Yet, no matter how far he reached, there was nothing. No history of the individuals in question, no prior incidents, no mention of them in any known hero or villain logs.

Frustration mounted as he pulled up the X-ray results again, this time overlaying them with the few alien anatomy files he had at his disposal. Still, nothing matched. These weren't creatures from any known world, or if they were, their physiology had been drastically altered. He wondered if they could be experiments—creations of some mad scientist or quirk-user with unimaginable power.

Naomasa leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen as if it might suddenly reveal the answers he was looking for. There was a lingering thought in the back of his mind—a nagging suspicion that wouldn't go away. What if these people weren't from this world at all? What if they were from another dimension, another reality entirely? It would explain the discrepancies, the untraceable records, the alien anatomy...

But even that theory was flimsy without proof. He knew he needed more information, more data, but for now, all he had were questions without answers.

With a sigh, Naomasa closed out the files and shut down his computer, the feeling of unease settling over him like a heavy blanket.

He paused to examine the peculiar results for Vision, who had been unusually quiet during the police processing. The X-rays had been particularly baffling, but Naomasa's focus was now on the android's fingerprint data.

He frowned at the results. "These prints don't match any human pattern I've seen before," he muttered to himself.

Naomasa rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. He picked up a piece of paper and squinted at the small print. "Let's see... synthetic, non-organic material... Superficial... What? Wait a minute."

It took him a few seconds of contemplation before realization dawned. "Of course! An android!" he exclaimed, almost knocking over his coffee cup. "How did I not see that earlier?"

He shook his head, chuckling to himself. "I've been treating a robot like a human this whole time. No wonder he was so quiet during processing. Wait...do robots have gender?"

———

Kenji Tsuragamae walked into the holding cell area, his stern expression softened by the dim light and the weight of the day. He glanced at the group of Avengers, each one looking more out of place than the next.

"Listen up," Kenji began, his voice authoritative but not unkind. "You'll be moved to different cells for the night. Tomorrow, someone will come by to sort out the details and hopefully clear up this mess."

Peter Parker, ever the one to lighten the mood, tilted his head and squinted at Kenji's uniform. "Uh, Chief, is it just me, or does that hat make you look like you're in a really intense game of 'Guess Who'? You know, like if you had a dog head, you'd fit right in!"

Kenji raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by the comment. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

Peter shrugged with a sheepish grin. "Just a joke, Chief. Sorry about that."

Kenji gave a small, almost imperceptible smile before turning back to the task at hand. "Just get through tonight. We'll get this sorted out as quickly as we can."

As the Chief walked away, Peter leaned over to Steve. "I mean, who doesn't love a good dog head joke? Helps take the edge off, right?"

Steve shook his head with a faint smile, clearly amused.

———

As the group was escorted to their cells, the atmosphere was filled with a mix of uncertainty and resignation. Two cells were prepared for them: one slightly larger with four bunks, and the other more compact with three.

Logan, Thing, Rhodey, and Peter were guided into the first cell. The door clanged shut behind them, and they were left to settle into their new quarters.

Logan immediately made his way to the bottom bunk of one of the two sets of bunk beds and flopped down with a tired groan. The metal springs creaked under his weight, but he didn't seem to mind.

Thing, ever the practical one, clambered up to the top bunk of the other bed. "Top bunk's mine!" he declared with a grin, his large frame somehow managing to fit comfortably in the small space.

Rhodey and Peter followed suit, Rhodey taking the other bottom bunk while Peter climbed into the remaining top bunk.

"So, this is how we spend the night," Rhodey said with a wry smile, trying to make the best of their situation.

Peter, looking around the cell with a mix of curiosity and humor, added, "Well, it's not exactly the Ritz, but it'll do. Just think of it as a very exclusive sleepover."

Logan let out a gruff laugh from his spot on the bottom bunk. "Yeah, exclusive and incredibly cramped."

Thing shifted on his bunk, the bed creaking under his weight. "I've slept in worse places. Just gotta figure out how to make this work until we're outta here."

Peter swung his legs over the edge of his bunk, looking over at Thing. "Hey, Ben, if you need a hand with the top bunk, just let me know. I've got a pretty good balance up here."

Thing chuckled. "Appreciate it, kid. But I think I can handle it."

———

The next morning, the dim light filtering through the small window of the cell barely cut through the early morning haze. Logan stirred on his bunk, feeling the weight of sleep still clinging to him. However, it wasn't long before he sensed something was very wrong. The bed felt... heavier?

Logan's eyes snapped open just in time to hear a loud creak and then a sharp snap as the bunk above him gave way. He barely had time to react before the full weight of Thing's stone-like body crashed down on top of him.

"Aw, crap!" Logan grunted, the breath forcibly expelled from his lungs as he found himself pinned beneath Thing.

"Sorry, sorry!" Thing groaned, trying to shift his massive frame off Logan. "This bunk wasn't built for someone with my... unique physique."

From the other side of the cell, Rhodey and Peter woke to the commotion, both staring wide-eyed at the sight of Logan trapped under Thing's considerable weight.

"Ben!" Rhodey exclaimed, hurrying to help. "You okay, Logan?"

Peter, half-suppressing a laugh, added, "That's one way to wake up."

Logan grumbled, his voice muffled by Thing's back. "I'm just peachy. Now get off me before I start using my claws to get some breathing room."

Thing finally managed to roll off of Logan, who gasped as he filled his lungs with air again. Thing looked sheepish as he sat on the floor, the remains of the collapsed bunk scattered around him. "Didn't mean to flatten ya, Logan."

Logan sat up, rubbing his ribs with a wince. "Yeah, well, next time you decide to make a landing like that, give a guy some warning, will ya?"

Rhodey shook his head with a grin. "Let's just hope the other cell has sturdier bunks."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle as he swung down from his bunk. "Hey, at least it wasn't the ceiling that gave out. Imagine explaining that one to the cops."

Logan shot him a look that was half-amused, half-annoyed. "Kid, you're not helping."

The morning had certainly started with a bang—literally.

———

What villains do you want to see appear?

Zemo
Lady Bullseye
Scorpion
Tarantula
Emma Frost
Crossbones
Green Goblin
Red Hulk (Original Character)
Tinkerer (Original Character)
Electro
Mysterio
Chameleon
Taskmaster
Whiplash
Mister Sinister
Sidewinder

Anyone you think I should remove or add or is this good?