(AN: Apologies for a delay in update, I was in the beach all day and my body was sore when I got back home. Here's for today!)
The screams never reached the outside world.
They clawed against the walls of the S.W.O.R.D. facility but beyond that sealed perimeter, the night remained undisturbed. No alarms spread. No signals leaked. No evidence survived.
Because Tony Stark had made certain of it.
Deep within the facility, far from the chaos tearing through its upper levels, silence reigned.
The room where Vision had been kept felt less like a place of rest and more like a laboratory stripped of conscience. Harsh white lights bled down from above, illuminating metal tables lined with dismantled components, fragments of synthetic tissue, and carefully cataloged pieces that once formed a being who had been far more than the sum of his parts.
Wanda Maximoff stopped at the threshold.
Her eyes traced every piece laid before her, taking in the quiet horror of it all. The stillness in the room pressed against her chest, heavier than the distant screams echoing elsewhere in the facility.
Behind her, Tony stepped in more slowly than usual. There was no swagger in his posture now, no casual deflection to hide behind. His gaze swept across the equipment, the work already done, the lines that had been crossed.
"This… this is not how this was supposed to go." He muttered, the words slipping out under his breath.
Wanda didn't answer. She walked forward instead.
Each step was deliberate as though she were forcing herself to bridge the distance between memory and reality. When she reached the central table, she stopped again, standing over what remained of Vision.
Her hand lifted slightly. It hovered over the body parts.
Tony watched her for a moment before exhaling, the sound quieter than anything else in the room. When he spoke again, the usual armor in his voice was gone.
"I should've handled this," he said. "Sooner."
Wanda remained silent.
"I had the resources," Tony continued, his voice low, steady, but weighed down in a way that was rare for him. "The access. The authority. But I got buried in everything else—cleanup, politics, rebuilding—and I let this sit here like it wasn't urgent."
He paused, jaw tightening slightly.
"That's on me."
For a brief moment, the words hung in the sterile air.
Then Wanda moved.
Her fingers brushed lightly against one of Vision's components, her touch careful as though she feared breaking something that had already been taken apart.
"It's fine," she said softly.
Tony frowned. "It's really not—"
"It is," Wanda interrupted, her voice calm but firm enough to stop him.
Her hand stilled for a fraction of a second before continuing its gentle path.
"If I stayed… if I kept thinking about this," she said, her tone quieter now, "I wouldn't have moved forward at all."
She drew in a slow breath.
"The time I spent away—it helped more than you think."
Tony studied her, searching for something, cracks, maybe, or the kind of instability he had once feared, but found none. Just quiet certainty.
After a moment, he gave a small nod. Not because it fixed anything. But because she had already chosen how to carry it. Wanda's gaze softened as it returned to Vision.
"I just want to bury him," she said. "Properly."
There was no anger in her voice. Only resolve.
This time, Tony didn't hesitate. "Then we'll do that."
Nanotechnology rippled across his arms, flowing outward in controlled streams of gold and red. The particles formed a structured frame around Vision's scattered components, assembling them with precise care into something stable enough to carry.
The process was swift and efficient.
"There," Tony said quietly, stepping back. "That should hold enough until we can bury him properly."
Wanda nodded.
Crimson energy flickered to life around her fingers, not wild, nor destructive, but controlled with delicate precision. It wrapped gently around Vision's reconstructed form, lifting him into the air as though weight no longer applied.
She held him in the air, then she turned and walked out.
Tony followed without another word.
.
.
Far above the facility, unseen and undetected, a lone figure stood at the edge of the rooftop.
Doctor Stephen Strange did not interfere with everything that happened.
His gaze remained fixed on the events unfolding below, his expression unreadable as the Cloak of Levitation rested against his shoulders, shifting only slightly in the night air.
Once, he had seen over fourteen million possible futures.
Only one had led to victory.
And yet, after the blip, the timeline he returned to was not among what he knew.
Not the sequence. Not the variables. Not even Elias.
The man's very existence had fractured the path Strange once knew, introducing changes that had no precedent and outcomes that should not have existed. Even if the result still leaned toward success, the road leading there had become something unfamiliar and unpredictable.
And that uncertainty lingered.
Which was why Strange had prepared.
The spell he placed on Elias had done more than ensure his return—it had marked it. The moment it returns here in their timeline, it would automatically send a signal only he could perceive.
A quiet alarm so he can assess what Elias would do 'when' he returns.
Then, he felt something. It wasn't from the mark he applied to Elias. This one was a normal space invasion near Wanda, whom he also monitored. And yes, something obviously happened between her and Elias. He clearly saw it during their interaction when Elias was about to leave.
This meant that since Kristen arrived beside Wanda, Strange had been watching them.
He saw everything that transpired before all of this scene inside the S.W.O.R.D. building even happened.
And he did nothing. He did not intervene or interrupt the flow of the events and just silently observed.
Below, Wanda and Tony finally emerged from the facility, Kristen rejoining them as the echoes of what had occurred were left buried behind reinforced walls.
Strange watched for a moment longer. Then, without a sound, he was gone.
.
.
.
The next morning arrived with a quiet kind of clarity.
Sunlight filtered gently through the trees, spilling gold across the forest clearing where Vision had once imagined a future—simple, peaceful, and shared. It was a place meant for beginnings.
Now, it bore witness to an ending.
The burial had been arranged with efficiency that bordered on surgical precision, no drawn-out ceremony, no speeches that tried to make sense of loss. Just careful hands, measured movements, and a grave dug where Vision had chosen to build something lasting.
Six feet beneath the earth, he was finally laid to rest. A single tombstone stood at the head of the grave, its surface smooth, its engraving simple:
In loving memory of Vision,
an Avenger, a friend… and something more.
The words lingered in the air as much as they did in stone.
Wanda stood closest. Still. Silent.
Beside her was Kristen, unmoving, her presence steady and watchful, like a shadow that refused to leave its post. A few steps behind them, others had gathered—those who had come not out of obligation, but because Vision had meant something to them in ways that words rarely captured.
Tony Stark stood with Pepper and their daughter, Morgan, his usual presence subdued beneath the weight of the moment. Clint Barton lingered off to one side, hands in his pockets, gaze distant, reminiscing about Pietro. Bruce Banner, still in his Professor Hulk form, stood quietly, arms folded, as though trying to make himself smaller in a space that didn't need strength.
And there, leaning slightly on a cane yet standing with quiet dignity, was Steve Rogers (old).
Even Doctor Stephen Strange had come. No robes. No capes in motion. No flashing spells.
Paying respect to someone who had once questioned what it meant to be one.
No one spoke. There wasn't much left to say that hadn't already been felt.
Time passed quietly, marked only by the shifting light through the trees and the soft rustle of leaves overhead. One by one, they began to leave—not abruptly, not coldly, but with the understanding that grief did not need an audience.
Clint gave Wanda a small nod before turning away. Bruce lingered a second longer, as if considering words he ultimately chose not to say, then followed. Pepper gently guided Morgan back toward a separate car, since Tony would be driving Steve today.
Soon, the clearing grew emptier.
Until only five remained.
Wanda.
Kristen.
Tony.
Steve.
And Strange.
Wanda hadn't moved. Not since the last handful of earth had settled.
It was Strange who stepped forward first.
"Grief has a way of changing the path ahead," he said quietly, his voice measured, carrying just enough weight to be heard without disturbing the stillness.
"Sometimes in ways we don't immediately see."
Wanda didn't respond. Her eyes remained on the tombstone. Strange continued anyway.
"The man you've interacted and spent time with—Elias," he added, his gaze sharpening slightly, "he is not someone I've encountered within any of the futures I once saw. The reality we are living in today is not one I predicted. I no longer have the Time Stone, so I will leave you with a word of advice."
That, more than anything, carried unease.
"Be careful around him," Strange said. "And more importantly, do not easily give away your trust. He may be more than what he appears."
Wanda's lips parted slightly, but the response never came. Kristen stepped forward instead. Her presence shifted the air.
"You speak boldly for someone standing before the Mistress," she said, her voice calm, yet edged with something far less forgiving.
"Be mindful, Sorcerer. Slander directed at my Lord is… unwise."
Her eyes didn't leave Strange. "Consequences tend to follow."
Tony, who had been listening in silence, let out a quiet exhale.
"Okay," he muttered, stepping in slightly, raising a hand in a half-hearted attempt at de-escalation.
"Let's… maybe not say that word out loud."
He glanced at Strange, then back at Kristen, clearly weighing his next words.
"After last night," he added carefully, "I'm really not in the mood to deal with any more… surprise guests. Especially the kind with claws, or hands for limbs, or whatever else you decide to summon."
Steve shifted his weight, looking between them, the tension settling into something he recognized all too well.
"Alright," he said, voice firm but calm. "Someone wants to fill me in on what exactly is going on here?"
No one answered immediately. Steve sighed softly, his grip tightening slightly on his cane.
"We just got the world back," he continued, quieter now, but no less resolute. "After everything we lost… everything it took to fix it."
His gaze moved between Strange and Kristen.
"Let's not be the reason it falls apart again."
Strange held his stare for a moment before giving a small, acknowledging nod.
"I'm not trying to push the world into another conflict," he said. "I'm trying to prevent it from being pulled into one."
A brief pause followed. Then, without another word, Strange turned and left.
Steve watched him go, then looked toward Tony.
"Drive me home?" he asked simply.
Tony huffed lightly. "Yeah… yeah, I lost the best. Come on."
The two of them walked off together, leaving the clearing behind as the quiet returned once more.
Wanda and Kristen were the only ones left.
The forest seemed to breathe around them.
Then, a flash of light cut through the air.
It wasn't violent. Not like the chaos of battle or the tearing of reality.
It was controlled, precise, and familiar. Just like when Kristen arrived at her apartment.
Wanda opened her eyes after the light vanished, and she saw him.
Elias Mercer stood a few steps away, as if he had always been there, sunlight catching against him in a way that felt almost deliberate. There was no tension in his posture, no sign of strain.
Just that same easy, infuriating smile. The one that had slipped past her defenses when she hadn't been looking. The one that had been there when she felt lost.
"Miss me?" he asked lightly.
.
.
.
Kristen moved first.
The instant Elias Mercer appeared in that quiet clearing, she stepped forward and dropped to one knee without hesitation, her head bowed in absolute precision.
"Welcome back, my Lord," she said, her voice steady—but carrying a faint tension that hadn't been there before.
"I must apologize."
A brief pause followed.
"For my failure to maintain optimal control during your absence. The situation escalated… beyond expectation."
Elias blinked.
The easy smile on his face didn't disappear—but it definitely faltered, caught somewhere between confusion and mild disbelief. His gaze shifted from Kristen's bowed form to Wanda Maximoff, one brow slowly arching.
"…Okay," he said, gesturing lightly toward Kristen. "I feel like I walked into the middle of a report I didn't ask for."
He tilted his head slightly.
"What happened?"
Wanda met his gaze. There was a quiet steadiness in her now—something settled, something no longer unraveling.
"A lot," she said simply. She took a small step closer, her eyes never leaving his.
"After you left, I went to S.W.O.R.D.," Wanda began.
"I wanted Vision's body… so I could bury him properly."
Her expression didn't change.
"They refused," she continued.
"Said they had legal authority over him. That he wasn't mine to take."
A faint pause. "So I left."
Elias' eyes narrowed just slightly—not in anger, but in focus.
"Then Kristen appeared before me, said you sent her to protect me," Wanda added, glancing briefly at the kneeling woman before returning her attention to him.
"There was a sorcerer. Agatha. She was spying on me."
At the name, Elias' expression shifted—recognition flickering faintly, though he didn't interrupt.
"We dealt with her," Wanda said. "After that… things didn't settle."
Her tone hardened just a fraction.
"Thugs showed up at my apartment. Armed and organized. Not random. They clearly planned before going after us."
Elias exhaled quietly. "Of course they did."
"Kristen handled them," Wanda continued.
"But that led to S.W.O.R.D. getting involved again. We were taken for a formal request to make a statement."
She paused briefly, then added,
"But their real goal was different. They marked Kristen as something they needed to study, and they wanted to kill me."
There was no emotion in the way she said it. Just a fact.
Elias' gaze flickered downward for a split second toward Kristen. Then back to Wanda.
"Tony intervened," Wanda said.
"Made sure whatever happened inside didn't leak out. Covered everything. In fact, he arrived even before SWORD took us and gave us a warning that they were monitoring us all this time since I visited them."
A softer breath followed.
"And Kristen… she summoned those things I didn't recognize to handle the situation."
Elias let out a quiet huff through his nose.
"…Yeah. That sounds like her."
Wanda's gaze lingered on him.
"It ended there," she finished.
"I got Vision back. Tony assembled his parts, and then I buried him here." Wanda pointed at the tombstone behind her.
Elias processed it all without speaking, his expression thoughtful—but not particularly alarmed.
Then, after a moment—
"…Okay," he said.
His eyes shifted back to Kristen.
"I'm still not seeing the part where you needed to apologize."
That made Kristen stiffen—just slightly.
"My Lord," she said, still kneeling, "my miscalculation led to unnecessary losses. My confidence in controlling the situation resulted in the destruction of multiple summoned assets."
A brief pause.
"My failure reduced operational efficiency."
Elias stared at her. Then sighed.
"…Kristen."
His tone wasn't harsh. But it was firm.
"It doesn't matter."
That made her pause. He gestured lightly.
"I don't care if every single one of those… whatever-you-summoned is gone," he said.
"They're expendable. That's the point."
His gaze sharpened slightly—not cold, but clear.
"What matters is that you're fine."
"And that she's fine."
His eyes flicked toward Wanda.
"That's it."
Kristen remained still, processing. Elias shook his head lightly.
"And another thing," he added, his tone shifting into something more deliberate.
"You kneeling like that? That wasn't part of the deal."
That made her look up slightly.
"I didn't bring you along to worship me," Elias continued.
"I told you what I wanted, to give you freedom to feel. The ability to actually live instead of just… functioning."
His expression softened just a little.
"In return, you help me. Like you've been doing."
"That's the agreement."
Then Kristen lowered her head once more—not in submission this time, but in acknowledgment.
"…Understood."
Elias gave a small nod.
"Good. You can return for now. Thank you for all your help, Kristen." She just bowed then in flash of light, she was gone.
The clearing grew quieter. Now it was just the two of them.
Elias turned back to Wanda, the lighter edge of his expression returning.
"So," he said casually, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"Ready for another vacation?"
Wanda stared at him for a second.
She shook her head.
Elias blinked.
"…Huh."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Still got something you need to do here?" He asked. They have clearly already planned this vacation even before he left, so the only thing he could think of is that she still had something to do.
Wanda let out a soft laugh.
"There's nothing left for me here," she said.
Elias' expression shifted, confusion flickering.
Until she continued.
"If it's okay…" Wanda added, her voice quieter now, but certain, "I want to go with you."
"Permanently."
That caught him completely off guard.
"…Wait—what?"
But Wanda didn't take it back. She didn't look away. She meant it.
Elias broke into a wide grin.
"Oh—okay, yeah, no, we're doing that."
Before she could react, he stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her slightly off the ground in his excitement.
"Welcome aboard," he laughed, the energy in his voice completely unrestrained now.
"You're gonna love it—different worlds, different timelines, things that make this place look like a quiet weekend—"
Wanda let out a small breath of laughter against him, not pulling away.
"And don't worry," Elias continued, still holding her, already rambling, "we'll start you off somewhere manageable. No apocalyptic Hellscape on day one. Probably. Maybe."
She shook her head lightly, smiling.
They stayed like that for a moment longer.
Then Elias pulled back slightly, though his hands still rested on her shoulders, his excitement not fading in the slightest.
"Oh—actually," he said, as if just remembering. "Quick stop first."
Wanda raised a brow.
"Tony," Elias clarified.
"Guy helped you out. Covered things up. I owe him one."
Wanda nodded without hesitation.
"I don't mind," she said. "What are you planning to do?"
Elias' grin returned—sharper this time. "You'll see."
End of Chapter 70.