Marvel: Karma

The Tallus blazed red with emergency light after an hour of silence. Dean groaned as reality twisted around them, yanking them through dimensions and dumping them face-first into scorched earth.

This wasn't the clean suburbs of Earth-616. This was hell.

Smoke choked the air. Massive craters dotted the landscape, and broken buildings stood like teeth against a blood-red sky. Makeshift shelters huddled in shadows of destroyed overpasses. The smell of burnt plastic and worse filled their nostrils.

"Sentinel attack?" Dean whispered, pointing to blast patterns in concrete.

Blink shook her head. "Something worse. This wasn't quick—it was systematic."

In the distance, machinery hummed and weapons cracked. Someone was still fighting.

A rifle barrel pressed against Dean's head.

"Don't move, mutants."

The voice was familiar yet wrong. Blink turned slowly and found herself staring at a ghost.

Kamala Khan stood before them, but not the bright teenager from the files. This version was older—mid-twenties—with short hair and scars on her arms. She wore battle-worn tactical gear, and her massive weapon looked cobbled together from Sentinel parts and determination.

Behind her, survivors emerged from rubble. All carried weapons. All had haunted eyes.

"You picked the wrong territory," the woman said. Her vest read: KHAN.

"Kamala...?" Blink whispered.

Khan's eyes went cold. "How do you know that name?"

"I know someone who looks like you."

Dean's thoughts were running wild in his head. 'Okay, she's not the fangirl I read about….'

"Clone? Shapeshifter? Or homework?" Khan's grip tightened. "Mutants who know things they shouldn't are usually dangerous."

"We're not from this world," Blink said carefully.

Khan laughed harshly. "Right. You appeared out of thin air with a light show, and he's got tech I've never seen." Her voice dropped. "Give me one reason not to kill you both."

"We're Exiles. We help people."

"Help people?" Khan's expression twisted. "Let me guess—you're here to 'liberate' us poor Inhumans? Show us our errors?"

Her survivors shifted—not refugees, but soldiers. Battle-hardened and suspicious.

"These are my people," Khan continued. "We protect each other against Sentinels, against sellout humans. And most importantly—against mutants who think they know what's best for everyone."

"What happened here?" Dean asked.

Khan studied him. "Everything fell apart. Inhumans fighting mutants. Mutants fighting humans. Sentinels hunting everyone. And us in the middle, trying to keep anyone alive."

Her voice carried years of exhaustion, but underneath was something harder. Something forged in fire and loss.

"Could be scouts," a lieutenant whispered.

"Could be," Khan agreed, eyes never leaving them.

"We're not from around here" Dean explained.

"Question is—what faction sent you?"

The standoff stretched. Khan's people formed a loose circle, weapons ready but not aimed. Professionals who'd done this before.

"Listen," Blink said, "I know this is hard to believe, but we really are here to help—"

"Where you come from doesn't matter," Khan cut her off. "What matters is you're here now, in my territory, with my people at risk. When strangers with powers show up asking questions, people die."

Pain so deep it had calcified into rage. Blink recognized it—she'd felt it herself.

"Who did you lose?" she asked softly.

The question cracked Khan's facade. For a moment, Blink saw the broken heart underneath.

"My family," Khan whispered. "My husband. My little girl." Her hand moved to a locket. "She was five. Still believed in bedtime stories."

"What happened?"

Khan's jaw tightened. "Sabretooth happened."

The name hit Blink like a punch. She tried to keep neutral, but Khan was watching too closely.

"You know that name," Khan observed, weapon rising.

"I've heard of him."

"Most people have. Came through our sector three years ago. My husband thought he could reason with him; explain we were just normal people surviving." She paused. "Sabretooth didn't care. Said killing was killing, and we smelled like fear anyway."

Blink felt sick. In her world, Victor was complicated—dangerous but protective. He'd saved her life countless times, the closest thing to a father she'd known. But this Sabretooth...

"He made me watch," Khan continued, voice getting quieter and more terrifying. "Made sure I understood this was what happened to people who got in the way. Then told me to run and spread the word." Her eyes focused on Blink. "So, forgive me if I don't trust strangers, especially ones who react like they know him personally."

The radio crackled. "Khan, movement in Sector 9. Could be Sentinel patrol."

"Could be mutant reconnaissance," Khan replied. "Standard protocol. Eyes open, weapons ready."

She looked back at them. "Here's what happens. You come with me. You answer questions. And if I get even the slightest hint, you're here to hurt my people..." She didn't finish the threat.

Moving through the settlement under guard, Blink saw the full scope of what Khan had built from tragedy. Not just a refugee camp—a fortress community carved from the old world's bones. Gardens grew behind razor wire. Children played under watchful eyes. A school operated in a bank vault, walls thick enough to stop almost anything.

"You built all this?" Dean asked respectfully.

"We built this," Khan corrected. "Every person contributed. Sarah's our medic—lost her family to an Inhuman patrol. Rodriguez designs defenses. Marcus trains fighters."

They passed a medical tent where a one-armed man was treated for burns.

"Sentinel patrol?" Khan asked.

"Three of them. New tech—mutant-detection enhancement." Rodriguez grimaced. "They're adapting faster than we are."

"They always do. That's why we stay ready."

Everyone watched Blink and Dean for signs of mutation. Every gesture analyzed for threats.

"How long have you been fighting?" Blink asked.

"Since the day my family died," Khan replied without hesitation. "That's when I learned the truth—to protect anyone, you have to be stronger, smarter, and more ruthless than everyone else."

They reached the command center—a reinforced former community center. Tactical maps covered surfaces, marking territories with colored pins. Red for Sentinels. Blue for mutants. Yellow for humans. Green for Khan's secured Inhuman havens.

"This is what we're up against," she said, finger tracing battle lines. "It's not good versus evil anymore. Everyone fights everyone else, and people like us get caught in crossfire."

She pointed to photos pinned in a corner. Memorial wall. Center photo showed a man holding a small girl—both smiling, unaware of coming tragedy.

"My husband thought Sabretooth could be reasoned with," Khan said, voice carefully controlled. "Thought if we just explained..." She trailed off.

Blink stared at the photo, thinking about her complicated relationship with Victor. He'd been brutal but protective. He'd taught her to survive, pulled her from that prison dimension when everyone else had given up. Never gentle, but hers in a way that mattered.

This Sabretooth was just a monster.

"I'm sorry," Blink said, meaning it.

"Sorry doesn't bring them back." Khan's eyes were hard as flint. "But it taught me that sometimes, to protect the innocent, you have to become the monster." She looked directly at Blink. "What kind of monster are you?"

Before Blink could answer, Marcus burst through the door, face pale with panic.

"Khan, you need to see this. Something's happening to the sky."

They rushed outside, and Blink's blood turned to ice. High above them, reality was beginning to crack.

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