⚜️ Saga 0: The Ash Years
🗓️ Location: Abandoned Safehouse | Slovakia | Late Morning
The basement chamber stank faintly of scorched wood and broken mana threads.
Candle sigils flickered in a tight ring around the room—six ancient glyphs carved into the stone floor like echoes of a forbidden equation. Old metal chains lay limp in the corners, more ceremonial than practical now.
Dante stood at the center of the circle, calmly with his sleeves rolled to the elbow, revealing the black binding runes along his forearms—some carved with ink, some earned in fire.
Across from him, Wanda's hands hovered in the air, trembling slightly. Red energy whispered between her palms. Not strong, not stable—barely a shimmer—but it was there as if it was 'Alive'.
"I keep trying to shape it, and it keeps slipping," she hissed, frustration painting cracks in her composure.
"That's because you're still thinking about control," Dante said evenly. "You don't own chaos. You can only negotiate with it."
He circled her slowly like a teacher -Detached, but focused.
"Breathe in. Let the power know you're not scared of it. Only then will it show you respect."
Outside the room, behind a stone grate that hadn't closed properly, Pietro crouched low. His breath fogged softly in the cold passage. He shouldn't have followed… but he couldn't stay away either. Wanda was changing too fast. Too completely.
"'Negotiate'? Really?" she said, furrowing her brow. "It's not a contract. It's a scream in my skull."
"Then scream back louder," Dante replied.
He stepped behind her gently, not touching her, but close enough for her to feel the steadiness in his breath.
"Chaos doesn't ask permission, Wanda. Neither should you."
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Her fingers twitched. The flickers in her palms sharpened, coalesced into twin currents that looped outward in unstable spirals.
The glyphs around them sparked in protest—reacting to her emotional spike.
"Don't suppress the storm," Dante said. "Let it widen."
"I don't know how," she muttered. "Every time I reach for it, I see too much. I see dust, I see—endings."
He nodded. "Good. Now start seeing choices."
She opened her eyes.
The glow turned steady.
In a heartbeat, the sigils ignited fully—smooth, bright lines girded in red-gold, orbiting her hands in slow flame. Reality bent in microfractures all around her body, cracking stone faintly underfoot.
Wind stirred inside four sealed walls.
Dante's voice returned—lower now, almost impressed.
"There. That's not just chaos."
"That's 'intent'."
The Sin System chimed lightly—only to her, ethereal but proud:
> [System Update — Bond-Linked Skill Manifested]
> Wanda Maximoff | Status: Waking
> ✦ New Trait: "Double-Anchor Potential (High Probability Tier)"
> ✦ Chaos-Type Affinity: Adaptive Mutation – Emotional Field Trigger
> ✦ Synchronization: 41.8%
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From the hallway, Pietro nearly swallowed a curse. He watched his sister hold raw reality in her hands like it belonged to her.
Her crimson aura hadn't just grown brighter. It sang.
But what chilled him wasn't the magic.
It was the way she 'smiled'-Quiet, Certain. Like the girl who once cried in their shared bed at night had been evaporated—and replaced by someone who held a thread to something far darker… and far more comforting.
He backed away, heart thudding.
Wanda's voice floated faintly from within.
"I wasn't meant to just survive this world."
Dante's reply came softer than flame.
"No. You were meant to tilt it sideways."
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