The Merc with a Mouth on Power: An Unfiltered Guide for the Bastard Who’ll Never Read This (Probably)

I was about your age when I first thought I could be someone. Not some body—that part was already ruined by the time I started shaving. But I thought power, real power, could make me a thing. Not a broken, cancer-riddled lab rat. Not a joke in a spandex suit. A goddamn force. And if you’re reading this, I assume you’re still at that stupid age where you think power’s a gift instead of a curse. So let me ruin the surprise.

Power Isn’t the Same Thing as Control (But I’ll Bill You for the Lesson Anyway)

Back when my face was still intact—and by “intact” I mean “not a Jackson Pollock painting of meat”—I thought power meant choice. That’s the lie they sell you. Join Weapon X? Shiny metal arms! Get super-regeneration? You’ll never die! But here’s the fine print: They don’t tell you power’s like a loaded gun with a hair trigger. One second, you’re the guy holding it. Next, you’re the guy bleeding out because you forgot to ask, “What happens if it backfires?”

I sold my soul to Ajax for a shot at being “fixed.” I thought the power would erase the cancer, the pain, the fact that my own body was betraying me. But all it did was turn me into a monster who could heal fast enough to survive the betrayal. Funny, right?

The Day I Realized I Was Already Broken (But Not in the Cool, Action Figure Way)

You ever stare at yourself in the mirror and realize the person looking back isn’t you anymore? Not the scars—that’s just decor. I mean, the you that loved chimichangas, that weirdo girl in the bar who laughed at your jokes, the guy who thought being a mercenary was just “getting paid to punch people.” Power didn’t erase the cancer. It just gave me time to watch the rest of me rot.

I tried to fix the broken parts with more power. Joined X-Force. Wore a stupid blue suit. Let Cable talk me into “saving time” like that ever works. (Spoiler: It doesn’t. Time hates all of us.) Every time I grabbed for more, I ended up further from the guy I used to be. Turns out, the real superpower is knowing when to say “uncle” before you’re elbow-deep in your own intestines.

Why Vengeance Is a Bad Business Model (Unless You Like Therapy Bills)

Okay, hotshot. Let’s say you do get the power you want. What’s next? Revenge? Proving you’re not a loser? Congratulations—you’re now the guy in every bad comic book ever. I spent years chasing the idiots who made me a science experiment. Killed a lot of people. Broke a lot of things. Cost me my team, my sanity, and one really nice leather jacket.

Vengeance is a trap. It masquerades as purpose, but it’s just a loop. You hurt someone, they hurt you back, and suddenly you’re both just a couple of jerks with bruises. I finally figured this out when I tracked down the lab tech who wrote my “treatment plan.” Turns out he was just some intern who liked the color red. Killed him anyway, but I felt like crap afterward. Moral of the story: Sometimes you win, and it still sucks.

How to Be a Monster (Without Hating Yourself for It)

Here’s the part where I’m supposed to say “Don’t be like me.” But let’s be real—I’m the best damn monster I could’ve been. Power didn’t save me. It didn’t make me rich or loved or even sane. But it let me choose how I wear the damage.

You think I’m out here cracking jokes about fourth walls and tacos because I’m not traumatized. Nope. I do it because laughter’s the only thing that keeps the void from asking for your autograph. I’m not a hero. I’m not a villain. I’m the guy who realized the power wasn’t in the mutation or the gun or the suit. It was in deciding what kind of damage to leave behind.

Power Is Just a Tool. Try Not to Build a Coffin With It.

If you’re lucky, you’ll learn this before you ruin your life. If you’re unlucky, you’ll be me—typing into the void, begging the kid I used to be to stop chasing the next big thing. Power’s not the point. It’s just the shovel. What you build with it? That’s the legacy.

I built a life where I can save the people who matter. (Mostly.) Where I can laugh at the absurdity of being a walking corpse with a Netflix account. Not bad for a guy who started out wanting to erase himself.

Now go do better.

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Talk to Deadpool on HoloDream about living with regrets, the ethics of chimichanga consumption, or why therapy is overrated (until it’s not).