It was a nice set of rooms, all things considered.
Very classy, with carved illustrations into the stone walls, leather coaches, an arm chair and a table for six. A corridor to the side led to small but individual private rooms, each with their own bed. Better than he'd expected to be honest, but it was the last thing on his mind at the moment.
Peter sat quietly, mind a blur as he tried to apply some kind of logic to the latest fiasco he'd gotten involved with. He wasn't having very much luck.
He wished Eli had at least given him more than the broad notes of the situation before dragging him here, because "there's a girl with magic portal powers being chased by giant magic demons, let's go beat them up" was not a good explanation.
Nor was dragging him to the Sanctum, because Peter had very bad memeries with magic at this point. (Memories. Hah. There's a ironic joke somewhere in there)
Then again, an Eli who wasn't impulsive and more than a little tigger-happy wouldn't be Eli at all, so here he was anyway.
"You know what I don't get?"
America (who was nice enough that he wished he'd met her under better circumstances) startled, pulled out of the morose silence that had overcome them ever since the sorcerers had (despite many protests) escorted them to these quarters and effectively locked them in their room. She'd gotten a few more hours of sleep, but she'd woken up and shown no inclination to continue the conversation.
Eli looked up from the book he'd managed to swipe from Sorcerer Wong's desk right before they were kicked out of the room.
"Why does she need to take your power?"
The thought had been nagging at him ever since he heard of the former Avenger's plan.
America frowned. "You heard Stephen. She wants her children back."
In that, Peter could sympathize. He knew better than anyone what it was like to lose family.
To lose everything.
But Eli had understood his question. "But she doesn't need your innate ability, America. She just needs the one single portal and all her problems are solved. Or so she seems to thinks."
Peter nodded. "Doesn't make sense, does it? Why go through all this effort when she's better served by just outright asking you for help? I mean, I haven't known you for long, but you don't seem the type to refuse..."
America was shaking her head before he'd even finished talking.
"No, but even if the murderous bitch-" Eli and Peter both winced at the sharp but justified title. "had asked for help rather than sicking demons on me, I wouldn't have been able to do anything. Your missing some of the context. I travel the multiverse, but I have no control over where I end up,"
He blinked. "None?"
"None." She sighed weakly and ran a hand through her hair. "And this isn't magic, or at least not the kind that the Masters of The Mystic Art's use. I can't train to get better. It took me years just to stop opening portals whenever I was scared and even now it's still a fifty-fifty chance, assuming I'm lucky.
She collapsed back onto the couch, exhaustion almost visibly coating her. "I'm rarely lucky."
...That sounded rough.
Eli chimed in then, sounding immensely curious. "So every jump between worlds is blind but and random?"
"Sort of." She raised a hand and tilted it in a so-so gesture. "If I really, and I mean really put the effort in? I can usually call up a gateway. I just can't choose where it's going to lead to."
"...Wow. Respectfully, that is such a crap superpower."
Peter glared at his idiot of a roommate, but America just snorted.
"Right? You have no idea the kind of insanity I've literally walked into." She shook her head and fully reclined on the coach, arms relaxed by her sides. "I opened my first portal when I was just a kid. Strange- my Strange, believed that I would have always grown to have the ability, but using it so young damaged it. Or me. Or both."
She stretched for a moment before stilling.
"Honestly I didn't understand what he was saying half the time, but what he theorised was that my first time using the power fried my capacity for fine control. He thought it was a miracle that I made the progress that I did, especially without any kind of specialised training." She smiled sadly. "He... promised to help me, you know? Had a whole plan an everything. I really thought..."
She trailed off, a grief he found far too familiar flashing across her features, and Peter found himself having too look away..
'I'm sorry."
"Don't be." She smiled weakly. "I'll get over it. I always do."
(The grief, the loss, having to walk off the pain because the alternative was losing yourself. Over and over and over-)
Now Peter was invested, damn it.
He cleared his throat, mental tamping down on... all of it, before turning back to the duo. He ignored Eli's smug look, the empathy no doubt already clueing him in on Peter's feelings.
America had seemingly not noticed his little lapse, staring at the ceiling with a vacant look in her eyes.
He tried to smile when she finally looked back at him.
It likely wasn't very convincing, but she mirrored the gesture somewhat, before they both turned to Eli when his friend decided that the silence had gone on long enough.
"You're wondering why she doesn't just ask for help like any sane individual would do?" Eli closed his book with a snap and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face furiously. "Well, given that we've established that she's not sane-"
America grunted in agreement and gave a thumbs up.
"- I think that question's already been answered. We can move onto the next most obvious one." His expression went serious. "What the hell is she waiting for?"
What?
"What?"
In response, Eli waved the book in his hand.
"This is a translated copy of some ancient Hindu text. The original Sanskrit version's probably more accurate, but I've got the gist of what it is we're up against."
He crossed his arms.
"The Scarlet Witch. The Sorcerers have known about her for pretty much as the long as they've existed."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Prophecy"
Because at this point he wasn't discounting anything, regardless of how ridiculous it might seem. Anything was possible with magic.
(A wave of the hands, a golden glow, and the whole world was made to forget.)
No, back in the box you go.
God, he hated magic.
"Yeah. The exact wording hasn't been transcribed here but they put in the general idea. And it's one of the fun onestoo." He cleared his throat "The Scarlet Witch will ascend and the world shall flourish or burn at her grace.
...
Oh, wonderful.
"Shit." America surmised.
"Oh, absolutely. The sorcerers have always known that she was coming. Matter of if, not when. According to the book, she's like nothing they've ever faced head on. A nigh-omnipotent force of nature who's very presence can alter reality itself. Everyone with me so far?" He waited for them to nod. "Great. Back to my question then. What exactly is she waiting for?"
He got up off his chair and started pacing.
"She had Dr. Strange dead to rights. Dead to friggin rights! She could have finished him off, traveled to the sanctum in seconds, and the first we'd have learned of it is when she brought the building down on our heads." He shook his head. "But no, she doesn't do that. Instead, she lets him go. Rather than attack the moment she figured out where you were-"
He pointed to America.
"-She gives the Masters of the Mystic Arts time to prepare. The one fighting force - bar the Avengers, who are scattered across the universe - who could possibly slow her down, and she gives them ample opportunity to fight back. Why?"
Peter...didn't have a good answer for that.
"She was an Avenger, once." He tried weakly. "Maybe she doesn't want to hurt a former colleague?"
The looks he received made it very clear how stupid that sounded.
"She wants to show off." America muttered, her voice quiet but heard all the same. "I've know her type. Strong. Stronger than anyone and anything and desperate to make sure everyone knows it. What better way than to mow down the Masters?"
Eli shook his head. "No. I wouldn't be surprised if she's arrogant as all hell, but I don't believe she wants a fight. What she does want are her children back. That's why it doesn't make any sense, damn it! What is she waiting for?"
America frowned, the validity of the point registering, as well the question it inspired.
Why exactly would the all-powerful witch not attack them from the get go?
Why exactly had she waited?
The implications were...troubling(terrifying) and he got off his chair.
Time to switch tracks.
"Well....Never mind that then. Getting worked up won't solve it." He nodded at both of them. "We'll figure it out, okay? We'll figure it-"
DANGER!
His senses flared as the building rumbled, the very floor shaking beneath their feet. Plaster and debris raining down from above. He barely flinched when Eli raised his hands, light exploding into being and reinforcing the ceiling.
No, he was far too busy trying to calm his thundering heart and overcome the sudden existential terror he could feel slowly clogging his thoughts.
He noted, dimly, that the sentiment was shared by the others. America remained frozen, the look on her face that of disbelieving horror. His roommate was trying to smile, but he couldn't disguise the paleness of his skin or the harrowed look in his eyes.
"Damn it Peter. You had to say it."
...
The Sorcerer Supreme stood vigil in the courtyard of Kamar Taj, It's greatest defender watching over his home.
Stephen Strange stood at his side, both silent.
Hundreds of Sorcerers stood in disciplined lines behind the pair, backs straight, senses sharp and magic roiling beneath their skin, awaiting their call.
No one said a word. They only knew their roles. They all knew the risks.
They would only have one chance.
Slowly, time passed.
The darkness of night fled, and the first golden rays of dawn touched the earth
The world rippled, and a small shape appeared on the horizon.
"Shields!" Wong bellowed, and golden light erupted, a beam of pure magic and will lancing out into the sky. It made it hundred of meters up into the sky before stilling and erupting, threads of golden light lancing in every which way.
In seconds, they circled Kamar Taj and overlapped, a cumulative ocean of energy forming a golden dome that surrounded the building for just a moment before vanishing, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air to speak of it's existence.
A potent spell. Near unimaginable power meshed with the per-existing wards of Kamar-Taj, the intent to protect and defend bolstering them to new heights.
A fortress made a hundred time greater. Such was it's might now that now common foe could hope to overcome it's defenses, to overcome all of their collective will made manifest.
But Wong knew the truth. They faced no ordinary foe, and the shield would not hold.
Slowly, the spec of blood red accelerated, space seeming to twist around it as it crossed the intervening stance in the blink of an eye.
It stopped an inch before colliding with the barrier, light dimming and unveiling-
Vishanti preserve us.
Wong had heard of Wanda's transformation, but seeing it? Seeing the undeniable proof of her corruption, the way her very magic had been tainted with tangible madness and vile cruelty?"
He could only shake his head.
That poor, poor woman.
Her very presence stole the light from the world, black intermixed with roiling crimson spreading out in al directions and blotting out the rest of the world. Soon, all the illumination that remained came from the her and her deadly intent.
She looked down at them, hovering above them with an expression that was death made manifest.
No emotions. Unnatural and disquieting all on it's own.
Slowly, she raised a hand.
Red lanced out.
Had they not reinforced the wards, Kamar Taj would have been annihilated.
As it was, the impact rattled it down to it's foundations, a pressure so great he could feel it in his very bones.
But the shield held, if only just.
"Shit" Stephen murmured quietly.
Wanda shifted and stuck one more.
"Ready-!"
Again Kamar Taj shook.
And again.
Each time, they reinforced the barrier by the skin of their teeth.
Each time, just a little less powerful. A little less stable.
"We can't maintain this!" Someone behind him roared. "This is too much!"
"Hold your position!" Another Master commanded before he could reply. "Stand strong and fulfill your duty! We have one chance! We will whether her attack!"
For a moment, Wong felt the comforting warmth of pride bolstered his strength.
And then Stephen spoke, and the warmth was replaced with ice.
"That's not her attacking." His fists clenched, the knuckles white and shaking. "She's just-
The words died in his throat as she smiled.
A wave of terror, of great and terrible fear that drowned out rationality and stole the very breath from his lungs enveloped him, enveloped them all as she bean to speak.
"Knock, Knock"
She drifted lower, an aura of crimson flames trailing behind her.
"Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!" She laughed, an orchestra of cruelty and vicious delight that could've made the bravest soul despair. "I must say, Stephen. I was worried there for a little while. You've always been the pragmatic type, and I was afraid you'd do the smart thing and hand over the girl."
"God help us all." Stephen murmured quietly.
"But I should have known better. You're a hero, Stephen. You wouldn't do something so unfair. So cruel. So...boring." She tilted her head in consideration. "Well. This time anyway."
"Are you ready?"
Stephen nodded.
One chance.
"No response? No witty reply or clever justification?" She shrugged. "As you wish. Before we start, though, I'd like to commend you. I commend you all for the effort. It takes courage to face the end head on. I respect that. That said, I do so hope that this wasn't the best you oould do, because if it was?"
She grinned one last time, eyes burning red.
"You're all going to die very, very quickly."
"Attack!"
The barrier shattered like glass, and the Scarlet Witch descended