The quiet hum of Avengers Tower was interrupted by a sudden gust of wind—a silver blur flashing through the corridors. Alarms blared for a heartbeat before the internal systems recognized the presence: Pietro Maximoff, cradling an unconscious Wanda in his arms.
He appeared in the common room, startling everyone. The Avengers were on their feet in seconds—shields raised, weapons half-drawn, minds on edge.
"Don't!" Pietro shouted, his voice raw with urgency. "Please... I didn't come here to fight."
They paused, hesitating. Natasha's hand lingered on her pistol. Tony's eyes narrowed behind his HUD. But it was Steve who spoke first, his voice calm but stern.
"Put her down. Slowly."
Pietro gently lowered Wanda onto the couch, his movements careful, almost reverent. Her face was pale, twisted in pain even in unconsciousness. Sparks of red energy flickered around her fingers like dying embers.
"She's not well," Pietro said, breathless. "Something happened after... after she used her powers on Rin. I don't know what exactly. But ever since then, she's been—"
He looked up, desperation clear in his eyes.
"She's been losing control."
Bruce stepped closer, cautiously scanning Wanda from a distance. "Losing control how?"
"Power surges," Pietro said. "Unpredictable, violent. I've never seen her like this. One moment she's fine, and the next she's screaming, lashing out—destroying everything around her."
Clint frowned. "How long has this been going on?"
"Since Sokovia," Pietro replied. "There was a city on the outskirts. She lost control there. The whole place is gone—reduced to a crater. Nothing left but scorched earth and ash. I barely got the civilians out in time. My speed's been... increasing. Somehow. But even with that, I almost wasn't fast enough."
He turned back to Wanda, brushing a strand of hair from her face with trembling fingers.
"She cries when she sleeps. I think... I think she's aware of what's happening. And it's terrifying her. I didn't know where else to go. Whatever is happening to her... it's beyond me. I thought coming here—bringing her to you—might be the only right thing left to do."
There was a long silence. The Avengers exchanged glances, the weight of the situation settling in like a heavy fog.
Tony crossed his arms, his voice sharp. "You expect us to just trust you? After everything?"
Pietro didn't flinch. "No. I don't. But I'm not here for me. I'm here for her. I know we haven't exactly been on the same side, but whatever's happening—it's tearing her apart. You want to lock me up? Fine. Just… please. Help her."
Rin, standing at the edge of the group, stepped forward and raised a calming hand. "Everyone, relax. He's telling the truth."
The team turned to her, surprised at the certainty in her voice.
In the original timeline, she thought silently, they weren't enemies. They fought beside us. Whatever corrupted her... it wasn't always there. If he brought her here, it means there's still a chance to bring her back.
Steve looked at Pietro, then at Wanda, and finally at Rin. He gave a small nod.
"Alright. We help her. But you stay under observation until we figure this out."
Pietro exhaled in relief, his shoulders sagging. "Thank you."
Tony sighed, gesturing to Bruce. "Get the scanners ready. Let's see what we're dealing with."
As they carried Wanda to the med bay, red sparks danced faintly around her again—and for the briefest moment, everyone felt it:
Something dark was stirring beneath the surface.
In the lab, Tony had Wanda carefully placed on the diagnostic table. His equipment, calibrated to detect the type of energy previously seen around Rin, began scanning immediately. He frowned as the readings danced erratically across the screen.
"This doesn't make sense," he muttered. "The data is fluctuating too wildly to analyze. It's like trying to track a ghost in a lightning storm."
Bruce, peering over his shoulder, nodded slowly. "These signatures... they're unstable, volatile. Whatever's going on inside her, it's not just power—it's chaos."
Rin, standing quietly nearby, was lost in thought. Her brows furrowed as she tried to match the strange phenomena to any known magical patterns. She crossed her arms, deep in concentration, mind racing.
Just as she turned around to speak, Natasha raised a brow.
"Uh, Rin... you've got something on your back."
Rin blinked, reaching behind her and pulling off a small note that had been stuck there. Her eyes narrowed as she read the elegant handwriting:
A little clue for my dear disciple: Wanda's power is not restricted to mind control and psychokinesis. The true nature of her power is reality warping.
A chill ran down her spine.
She didn't say anything, but the implications were already sinking in. If this note was genuine—and she had a sinking feeling it was—then Wanda's abilities had only just begun to reveal their true nature. The note's presence was more than unsettling; it was a warning.
The team watched as the scanners displayed chaotic bursts of red energy, shifting unpredictably across the monitor. It was almost like the machine couldn't decide what it was reading. Patterns would start to form, only to be shredded apart by unseen forces.
Bruce leaned in closer. "She's rewriting the scan as it happens. The data can't stabilize because her power is actively rejecting categorization. It's... sentient in a way."
Tony stared, deeply unsettled. "She's not just powerful. She's a walking anomaly."
Wanda stirred slightly on the table, letting out a faint, broken whimper. The red energy flickered once more.
Pietro stepped forward, eyes wet. "Please. Don't let her become something she's not. Don't let this... thing consume her."
Rin looked at Wanda, then back at Pietro. Her voice was quiet, but resolute.
"We won't. She's not beyond saving..." or at least, Rin hoped so. There was conviction in her voice, yes—but deep down, an uneasy knot of uncertainty twisted in her chest. The magic surrounding Wanda wasn't just unstable—it felt ancient, unbridled, and dangerously close to something no one truly understood. Rin held onto her resolve not just for Wanda's sake, but to keep her own fear at bay.