Milano — Crew Quarters, later that night
Max's body jolted against the cot straps, glow flaring bright enough to light the med-bay. Static crawled across his skin like broken circuitry.
Outside the door, Rocket groaned. "I told you bringing him was a mistake. He's gonna blow a hole through my ship."
"I am Groot," Groot said firmly.
"…Yeah, yeah. You'd miss him," Rocket muttered.
Inside, Max's dream swallowed him whole.
The Dream
He was young again. Takion alive around him, towers thrumming with the hum of the Energia Grid. His father's scarred hands pressed a crown onto his head. Voices chanted his name: Ma'ex Ja'em Mk'rah.
The sky ripped open.
Ultralinks descended in swarms, mechanical locusts blotting out the suns. Fire consumed the horizon.
Max ran across a battlefield, lungs burning, stumbling past the broken form of a Xenoshok. Another Ultralink surged toward him — claws raised.
And then it hesitated.
Its optics flickered, its code breaking pattern.
^This is not glory. This is slaughter.^
Blue hexagons erupted around him, forming a lattice of light. Pain seared through Max's veins as the Ultralink fused with him, armor encasing his body. Energy wings unfurled, bright as stars.
A voice cracked into his mind — sharp, sarcastic, achingly familiar.
^You really know how to pick the worst places to get into trouble, huh?^
Max froze. His chest tightened. He knew that tone. Not from this life, but another. His oldest friend.
"…Navaro?"
^Took you long enough. I've been waiting for you, idiot.^
Relief choked his throat even as the war raged. "Then together… Max Steel."
The bond locked. For a moment, they were unstoppable — two halves reunited, striking as one.
But then the shadow fell.
The Alphalink. A living void. Its hunger stretched across the sky, devouring the Grid, devouring the world. His father detonated himself in a blaze of sunfire, a final defiance.
Max reached for tiny hands slipping away. His people. His family. All gone.
He screamed—
The Wake
Energy exploded out of him as he woke, rattling the Milano's hull. Consoles flickered. Rocket swore loud enough to echo down the corridor.
The Guardians rushed in, weapons drawn. Gamora poised her blade. Drax raised his knives. Groot reached instinctively toward him.
Peter stood frozen, heart hammering.
Max hunched on the cot, breath ragged, veins still glowing faint. His voice was raw.
"Takion. My father. My people. The Grid… gone." His fists trembled. "I watched it burn. I should've burned with it."
The silence pressed heavy.
Gamora sheathed her sword first. "And yet you didn't. That means something."
Drax nodded. "The weak perish. The strong endure. You endured."
"I am Groot," Groot said softly, branches brushing Max's shoulder.
Peter swallowed hard. "…You said his name. Steel. Like you knew him before this. Who was he?"
Max's gaze flicked up, haunted. "…I did. Not just there. Before. Another life. Another world. He was… my brother. There's no other way I can put it." His voice cracked, the glow dimming in his chest. "And I lost him. Twice."
Rocket fidgeted, ears twitching. "…Well. Guess that makes you one of us. Whole crew of losers."
"Speak for yourself," Peter muttered, but his voice lacked heat.
Deadpool meta-cut: "Ohhh, the reincarnated besties angle! Cosmic trauma with a side of bromance. Bet you five credits we're getting at least one tearful reunion arc down the line — cue the Disney+ spin-off: Steel & Max: A Tale of Two Lifetimes."
Later, with the others gone, Max sat in silence. Blue-white light pulsed faintly under his skin as he whispered a name into the dark. He whispered a name to gather courage and himself.
"Ma'ex Ja'em Mk'rah."
Peter lingered outside the door, jaw tight. He didn't know why that name twisted in his chest. Only that this stranger wasn't just some accident they pulled from the Collector's vault.
Somehow, he mattered.