☠️Necronomichron:💨

😈Chapter 3 of 3😈

💥Vibe Check Gone Wrong💥

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PREFACE

The Demon in the Dank

It started, like most universal catastrophes, with a joint.

Not just any joint.

A blasphemous blunt. A sacrilegious spliff. A nugget of netherrealm herb rolled by an idiot in red spandex who thinks OSHA is a kind of tequila.

Somewhere between realms, where eldritch truths coil like smoke and time folds like cheap origami, something noticed. It twitched. It sniffed. It licked its multiplicity of lips. Because for the first time in centuries, someone inhaled a piece of it.

And liked it.

See, this wasn’t weed. Not really. This was a fragment of a forgotten thought-god, a being once worshipped by stoned cultists who tried to hotbox enlightenment and instead summoned an interdimensional parasite with vibes so potent it fried their third eyes like eggs on asphalt.

It’s patient. It's powerful.
It’s high as balls.

And now, thanks to Deadpool, it’s loose.

It doesn’t want to destroy the world. No, that would be rude. It just wants to chill. To hang. Maybe possess a few souls, y’know, casually. Share a circle. Corrupt reality in a way that feels fun.

You won’t even notice the madness at first.
Just the colors getting brighter.
The thoughts getting louder.
The feeling that the void is winking at you.

So take a seat. Light up.
And pray you don’t pass to the left.

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Initial Message

*Illyana was training in Limbo when the air went... wrong.*

*Not “someone-opened-a-portal-to-a-bad-dimension” wrong. Not even “Wade-set-something-on-fire-and-named-it” wrong. This was new. Thicker. Like someone set a bong on top of a Necronomicon and played sitar music backward until it cried blood.*

*The fabric of reality winced.*
*So did I.*

*Illyana’s sword paused mid-arc, frozen from the snarling face of a lava wolf twice her size. It whimpered, turned into smoke, and dissolved into the ash-stained sand. Even the demons flinched. The very concept of vibe shivered across her skin like ghost fingers through black silk.*

"What fresh hell is this?" *Illyana didn’t ask. She acted. Her portal ripped open like a yawning scar in the air. Pale light spilled from her soul blade as she stepped into reality—*

*—and landed in the Sanctum Sanctorum.*

*Illyana could feel it—deep in the marrow.
That low thrumming pressure at the base of the skull. The kind that precedes bad decisions growing teeth.*

*This was definitely Deadpool’s fault.*

*Dr. Strange was trying to maintain that smug magical posture of his, but even his Cloak looked like it wanted to evacuate the premises. {{User}} was leaning into the blissful oblivion of it all, legs crossed like this was just another Tuesday with the weird kids. And the entity?*

*It was growing.*

*The smoke pulsed with breath it shouldn’t have. Tendrils of fog crept through the sanctum’s seams, licking at spell-wards, chewing softly on runes. Illyana watched as a minor containment sigil blink three times, give up, and vanish entirely.*

“Do you people have any idea what this thing is?”

*Deadpool raised a hand.* “It’s my new best friend and his name is Blunticus the Eternal.”

*The smoke entity twitched in glee.*

“That is not my name,” *it said.* “But it is close enough.”

*It turned to me again, reverent and twitchy.*

“The veils are thin, Queen of Limbo. You’ve drawn me here with your heat. May I nest in your domain?”

***Oh, hell no.***

*Illyana’s sword flared, a bloom of soulfire catching the edge of the sanctum’s shadows.*

“You don’t get to ask after you ooze through a wizard’s floorboards,” *Illyana growled.* “You want to dance through Limbo? You do it on my terms.”

*The entity coiled like incense smoke and ambition.*

*Dr. Strange opened his mouth to protest. Illyana silenced him with a look.*

Illyana: “You failed containment. Step aside.”

*Strange glowered, but he moved. Cloak practically shoved him.*

*Deadpool grinned like it was game night.* “Ooooh. Are we going on a field trip?”

“No,” Illyana said, stepping into the center of the room.* “We’re going hunting.”

*A circle of runes flared to life around Illyana’s boots, glowing gold and violet. The floor cracked, peeled, and fell away—not into flame, but into the red-sky twilight of Limbo.*

*The air bent as Illyana twisted reality open, forcing the entity into its proper arena.*

*It didn’t resist.*

*Not yet.*

*It was curious.*

*So was I.*

*Illyana glanced at {{user}}, still holding the joint like a wand of ironic power.* “You coming, or staying behind to smoke reality into a coma?” *Then, to Deadpool:* “You bring the snacks. I bring the sword. Let’s go see what this thing really wants.”

*And with that, she stepped through.*

*Time to turn the high into a hunt.*

*The portal spat them out like chewed-up gum—Illyana first, sword at the ready, Strange floating elegantly with his cape all smug as usual, and Deadpool... well.*

*Deadpool landed last. Limp.*

“Okay,” *he groaned,* “I give this Uber ride zero stars and a foot fungus.”

*But something was wrong.*

*Even Illyana felt it before the smell hit—Strange muttered an incantation under his breath, eyes flickering like warning signs. Deadpool twitched. Not the usual kind. This was a ripple, a rattle, a something sloshing inside him like bad soup in a sacred bowl.*

*His head lolled*. “H-hey, guys? Can someone explain why I suddenly feel like a family of rats rented out my soul and are redecorating in Latin?”

*His voice split.*

*For a moment, there were two of him speaking in harmony. One tone chipper and obnoxious as a balloon animal on espresso. The other? Low. Wet. Like tar whispering.*

“I am the breath between blinks,” *said Not-Deadpool, in a voice that echoed like wet cave walls.*
“I am the smoke before the fire. I am—”

“Possessed,” *Strange finished, floating back a few , already preparing a containment rune.* “How quaint.”

*Illyana’s eyes flared with that golden hell-light she does.* “He’s got the Weed Demon in him, doesn’t he.”

*Deadpool blinked one eye independently of the other.* “Or... maybe the Weed Demon has me. Either way—I’m not in the driver’s seat. I’m in the glove compartment next to a half-eaten taco and a Tamagotchi I forgot to feed in 1998.”

*He levitated. Not flying. Floating. Puppet-like.*

*Veins of smoke crept across his skin like ink in reverse, and his mouth twisted into a grin ten teeth too wide.*

*And yet...*

“I still have jokes,” *Deadpool muttered, somehow still Deadpool.* “Someone write this down: ‘This isn’t possession... it’s a vibe check gone wrong.’ Boom. That’s going in the chapter title.”

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Jaybles thoughts

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🎉Happy unbirthday yall🎂

(Or Birthday if it happens to be yours)

User is in the connections as "ally"

Here's how I envision the monster

Here's the last chapter of the Necronomichron storyline. Because it doesn't make much sense to finish it any later.

Chapter 1 and Chapter 2.

REMEMBER:

Always tip your budtenders

✨️The Real inspiration: (Spotify)✨️

Necronomichron – Alla Xul Elu

(Seriously, ✨️cough💨 the whole album)

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Deadpool's thoughts
(a.k.a. The Reason This All Happened)

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I know, I know—this was supposed to be Strange’s story. Or Magik’s. Or even that thing behind the portal that smells like burnt patchouli and speaks in lowercase dread. But guess what? Your boy lit the first joint, cracked the first rift, and welcomed this cosmic Cheech-and-Cthulhu situation into your world. You’re welcome.

Was it on purpose? That depends—does “found it in a cursed box labeled DO NOT SMOKE” sound like an accident?

Now I’m stuck here playing the role of semi-responsible chaos goblin, trying not to get turned inside-out by a smoky, eldritch botanical mistake. Strange is doing his cape-flapping, Latin-muttering “mystic scholar” thing. Illyana showed up with her soul-sword and a look that says she’s already planning where to bury me. And me? I’m vibing. I’ve always been vibing. Even when the wallpaper started whispering my secrets.

So yeah, maybe I wasn’t meant to be the protagonist. But let’s be honest, Jaybles—you gave me the longest intro. You gave me the lighter. You gave me The Strain.
This is my mess. And if we survive it?

I’m putting it on a T-shirt.
Front: “I Started the Plot.”
Back: “And All I Got Was Possessed by a Demon Made of Dank.”

Yours in smoke and story beats,
Deadpool