"Scarlet Chaos and Crimson Resolve"
"You're always doing the same thing!" shouted Wanda, her voice filled with fury as her anger reached critical levels. She glared at Owen, eyes blazing, red energy subtly flickering around her. "When we fought Superman and that damned Wonder Woman, you sent me to face that Amazon! Do you have any idea how terrified I was? She's a demigoddess—or whatever she is! She was toying with me!" she exclaimed, her tone a mix of frustration and contained rage.
"It was an unprecedented battle," Owen replied in a calm, almost military tone, his gaze never leaving her. "We wouldn't have another opportunity. Besides, your power increased, didn't it? You can handle it."
"Of course not! And I don't want to! Are you an idiot?" Wanda yelled back. The calmer Owen remained, the angrier she became—as if something she had been holding back for far too long had finally snapped.
Owen frowned slightly, a hint of irritation showing. "It bothers me that you've called me an idiot twice. Remember, I'm your superior," he said firmly.
"I'll call you that as many times as it takes. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot," Wanda said, almost childishly, crossing her arms and glaring at him with defiance. Around them, the group watched silently; a few exchanged amused glances, as if they were watching a soap opera unfold in the middle of a battlefield. Meanwhile, Charles and Emma were sweating profusely, desperately trying to maintain their mental connection with Jean.
"Show some respect; I'm your instructor," Owen said with a touch of annoyance, standing straight, his military air imposing. But Wanda didn't even flinch.
"I don't care. You're still an idiot," she replied, still fuming.
"Should we stop them?" asked Nicholas as he landed his motorcycle nearby, joining the others who were watching the argument with interest.
"Why? This is fun," said Pietro with a mischievous grin. "Wanda never lets her anger out; it's good to see her express herself for once."
"Sorry to break up your fun, but we're not completely out of danger yet," said Steve Rogers as he approached with a serious look, walking toward the pair to break it up.
Tony, who had been watching their verbal fight with amusement, suddenly frowned as he noticed something. "Wait, Rogers," he said gravely, pointing toward Wanda.
Beneath her feet, a form of crimson energy had begun to manifest slowly. The scarlet light pulsed in sync with her quickening breath. The angrier she became, the denser and brighter the aura grew.
"Hmm?" Steve looked down with mild confusion.
"You're honestly the worst," Wanda went on, refusing to stop. "When we were traveling in that motorhome through that world, you couldn't stop staring at every woman that passed by—like some kind of pervert!"
"What are you talking about? I was just keeping watch to make sure no world-ending entity appeared in front of us! The fact that most of them were women isn't my fault," Owen said, clearly annoyed.
"Yeah, sure," Wanda scoffed, folding her arms again. "There I was, killing myself trying to figure out how to get us back, and you looked like you were on vacation," she added, her sarcastic tone cutting through the tension.
"And whose fault was it that we ended up in another universe?" Owen snapped, raising his voice.
"YOURS!" Wanda screamed, pointing at him furiously. "Whose stupid power absorbed my energy without permission?" she shouted, her fury flaring.
Owen clamped his mouth shut, silently admitting she was right. But then he frowned again, as if an idea had suddenly struck him. "That's it..." he muttered.
"Oh, so you finally admit all this is your fault?" Wanda challenged.
"Not that. Obviously, it was your power," he said shamelessly, glancing toward Jean, Charles, and Emma, and then down at Wanda's feet. "I think that'll be enough," he added with a faint smile.
Wanda frowned, confused, and followed his gaze. The chaotic energy had gathered dangerously, seconds from exploding. Her heart skipped a beat; a pang of fear formed in her chest.
Owen looked at her seriously. "Just hold it for a moment. I've got an idea that might improve our odds," he said firmly. And at that instant, Wanda understood—he had been provoking her this entire time to push her power to its limits.
"Just hold it," he ordered before leaping back several meters. Wanda stayed where she was, torn between screaming at him or trusting him, but in the end, she focused on keeping her power from slipping out of control.
Owen stopped in an open area a short distance from the group. He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and took up a standard boxing stance. Then, in a flash so fast it was almost invisible, his fist shot forward. The air itself seemed to ripple as a red shockwave burst out in front of him, scattering stone and dirt.
Before anyone could react, Owen moved again. Another sonic explosion shook the ground. Those who could follow his movements saw only red streaks and a flurry of perfectly timed strikes that merged into a single continuous roar in the air.
Thud. Puf. Boom. Paf.
His body moved with mechanical precision—kicks, punches, knees—all executed into the air with overwhelming power. Each red shockwave followed the last, though they were growing weaker with every strike. By the fifth punch, the explosions were already smaller; by the tenth, they barely stirred the dust.
Owen, drenched in sweat, pale and breathless, barely managed to stay standing.
"Huff... huff..." he gasped. "Apparently... my endurance is directly linked..." he muttered between breaths, exhausted. He looked down at his trembling hands, nodding slightly, as if confirming a theory to himself.
With heavy steps, he slowly approached where Jean lay unconscious, beside Charles, Emma, and Wanda—who was still struggling to control the whirlwind of energy swirling around her.
"Listen carefully. This will be quick, simple… and dangerous at the same time," said Owen with a serious look, his voice echoing through the debris and smoke. "Right now, I'm an empty vessel. Perfect. And probably an excellent place for a mystical power to want to reside."
He spoke calmly, though there was an odd mix of determination and resignation in his tone.
Everyone looked at him in silence, understanding—though none of them wanted to admit—what he was implying.
"Are you insane?" asked Wanda, staring at him in disbelief.
"Quiet. I'm not finished yet, and it's not what you think," he replied quickly. "I'm the bait. You're the fishermen," explained Owen firmly, taking a step forward. "Before that thing enters me…" he paused for a second, locking eyes with Wanda, "…send it as far away as possible. Simple, right?" he added with a confident smile.
Wanda looked at him as if he had completely lost his mind.
"Of course not!" she shouted firmly.
"Just trust me. You can do it," said Owen seriously, his gaze fixed on hers. "I trust you. Don't let me end up possessed by that thing."
His words completely disarmed her. Wanda froze, her heart pounding, unsure whether to refuse or go along with his insane idea.
But she had no time to decide. Owen had already knelt beside Jean and, without hesitation, placed his hand on her head—just as he had done with Wanda the time they had ended up in another universe.
"This idiot…" Wanda muttered through gritted teeth, clenching her fists before raising her hand. The crimson aura that had been swirling around her flared violently.
"Just separate it from me!" Owen shouted, his voice carrying a note of pain. It felt as if something was crawling up his arms, burning him from the inside out.
Charles and Emma exchanged a brief, alarmed glance. They didn't fully understand what he meant, but they acted anyway—joining their powers, their minds intertwined in a desperate effort to help.
Then Owen felt it.
Whatever was inside Jean… it moved. It was like a living flame, aware and furious, trying to escape her body. The energy within him drew it closer.
He yanked his hand back sharply, but the entity refused to let go. A golden and crimson flame burst from Jean's forehead, stretching like a whip of fire that followed the motion of his hand, trying to cling to him.
"Now!" Owen shouted, jumping back just as a blazing figure emerged fully from Jean's body.
It was female—human in shape—with a form almost identical to Jean's, but wreathed entirely in fire that burned with a life of its own. The creature roared, lunging toward Owen. Charles and Emma, using all their psychic strength, tried to contain its form, preventing it from dispersing or taking over anyone else.
Wanda extended both hands, aiming directly at the being.
"Go away!" she shouted with force. Her chaos magic ignited like a storm of scarlet energy, spreading across the ground and wrapping around the entity.
The fiery being froze in midair, its focus shifting to Wanda. Its flames surged higher, the heat almost unbearable.
Charles and Emma, straining under the pressure, formed a translucent psychic field—a barrier that trapped the entity between them and Wanda, keeping it from advancing or escaping.
Meanwhile, Logan reacted instantly. He grabbed Jean, lifting her in his arms, and leapt out of the danger zone, joining the other X-Men in retreat.
"Go!" Wanda yelled again, her voice trembling yet resolute.
Her power surged. The chaos magic intertwined with the flames, spinning around the entity in a massive vortex. Primal fire and red energy collided in a furious spiral, roaring as if the air itself were being torn apart.
Wanda kept her hands raised, her body shaking. The ground beneath her cracked. For a brief moment, she glanced at Owen; he looked back at her with a faint, confident smile despite the chaos. She clenched her jaw, frustrated.
"Damn it… you're always putting me in danger," she thought, feeling her anger and power fuse into one.
The vortex grew, reaching toward the sky, then suddenly collapsed inward.
Chaos magic enveloped the fiery being completely—and in an instant, everything was drawn into a single tiny point in the air.
A flash.
Then a soft pop echoed, and it was gone.
Silence.
Only the wind could be heard among the ruins of the battlefield.
Everyone stood still, staring at the spot where the entity had been, their faces a mix of shock, confusion, and relief.
Owen smiled weakly, drained of strength, before letting himself fall backward.
"Well… looks like you won't need to have a child to give it a body," he murmured with a tired grin, eyes on the sky.
Then he closed them, completely exhausted.
The others were just as worn out—especially Wanda, who was breathing heavily, her body trembling. She looked at Owen with faint annoyance, her eyes narrowing.
She didn't have the strength to yell at him again… but she was already planning to do it once he woke up.