Chapter Text
The sky above Mount Wundagore twisted, an ethereal rift tearing open the fabric of reality. The portal was star-shaped, pulsing with cosmic energy. Through it, two figures collided, one of them a blur of power and speed.
Wanda Maximoff’s heart pounded in her chest as she focused all her grief and desperation into a surge of red energy. The woman in front of her—America Chavez—was in her way, and Wanda would not let anything stop her from getting the power she needed to bring her children back.
America dodged and weaved, her fists as powerful as the punches of a celestial force. She wasn't intimidated by Wanda’s destructive energy. In fact, the 14-year-old was determined to stop her, no matter the cost.
“I won’t let you do this!” America yelled as she twisted her body mid-air, unleashing a powerful punch that sent a shockwave through the air.
“I will do whatever it takes to bring them back!” Wanda screamed in return, her eyes wild, filled with grief, and blinding rage.
Wanda’s chaos magic surged, sending another barrage of crimson blasts at America, but the teenager dodged with agility far beyond her years, propelled by the energy that surged from her own powers. With a grunt of determination, America launched herself into the air again, creating a star-shaped portal just above Wanda.
Before Wanda could react, America punched her with the full strength of her cosmic-powered fist. The blow landed with a deafening crash, sending Wanda flying backward into the nearby concrete wall. The impact cracked the stone, sending debris flying as Wanda crumpled to the ground.
The red magic that had surrounded Wanda flickered out, leaving only silence in its wake. Wanda lay motionless, her body slumped, unconscious from the force of the blow. America stood still for a moment, chest heaving with exertion, her eyes fixed on the fallen woman.
Without hesitation, America stepped back into the star-shaped portal she had created, vanishing from the scene in a flash of light. She wasn’t here to finish the job—she had done what needed to be done. The portal closed behind her, leaving no trace of her presence.
The Mutant Underground headquarters shook with the force of the explosion. The walls rattled as the floor trembled beneath their feet. A loud crash echoed through the hallways, and the entire team was on high alert. This wasn’t just another normal tremor—they had felt it before. Something big had happened.
“What was that?” John Proudstar demanded, his eyes narrowing as he checked the monitors. They flickered with static, giving no clues as to the source of the explosion.
“It’s not the Sentinel Service,” Lorna Dane said, shaking her head. “No signals, no alarms.”
The team quickly sprang into action, rushing toward the disturbance. Clarice, her eyes already flickering with the shimmering light of her teleportation abilities, glanced over at John. “Doesn’t feel like them. But whatever it is, it’s big.”
With one swift motion, America launched herself into the air and punched Wanda with all the strength she could muster. The blow was like a battering ram, sending Wanda hurtling backward, crashing into a concrete wall. The force of the impact created a deafening crash, the sound reverberating through the surrounding area.
America hovered for a moment, watching Wanda's still form. She didn’t feel any satisfaction from the fight—only a heavy, sinking feeling that this was something she’d had to do, but didn’t want to. Wanda's power was a danger to everyone, and the choice had been made for her.
Without another word, America stepped back into the star-shaped portal, disappearing from sight. The rift snapped shut behind her, leaving Wanda in an unfamiliar world.
The other figure was a woman—Wanda Maximoff—her body battered and unconscious, her clothes torn from the impact. The air around her still felt heavy with a strange, lingering energy, and her hands were blackened, scorched as if by a powerful force she had unleashed.
“What the hell happened here?” Lorna muttered, kneeling down to check on Wanda.
John scanned the woman’s still form. “She’s alive. Just unconscious.” He checked her pulse. ”
John said, the certainty in his voice clear. “Let’s get her in the vault first.”