Chapter — The Offer to Wanda: Between Worlds and Choices
The night was unusually silent.
I appeared on the rooftop of a building overlooking the quiet streets, where only the wind dared to disturb the calm. Leaning against the ledge, I gazed at the distant stars, their ancient light a reminder of how time bends before me.
Wanda Maximoff — not the Scarlet Witch yet, just Wanda — was sitting alone in the square below. Her grief was like a beacon to me. Grief sharpens the soul. And I, as Death, have always been drawn to sharp edges.
I descended quietly, materializing beside her without a sound, my presence invisible to the casual eye but palpable to the ones sensitive enough. Wanda turned her head slightly, sensing me.
"You're not here to take me, are you?" she asked softly, not afraid, but… curious.
I smirked. "If I were here to take you, you wouldn't have had the time to ask the question."
She smiled faintly, eyes tired but filled with that fire I always found captivating. "Who are you really? You've been around me more than once. I've felt you watching."
"Death," I said simply. "Not the skeleton with a scythe. Something a little more refined."
Her eyebrows raised, skepticism fighting curiosity. "Death? Like… the end?"
"More like… the manager of transitions." I sat beside her, leaving just enough space to be polite but close enough for her to feel my weight. "And you, Wanda, you've been pulling me closer. You've seen enough loss."
A flicker of pain crossed her face.
"Your brother," I whispered, and with a snap of my fingers, a portal shimmered before us.
Through the golden veil, Pietro appeared — peaceful, glowing, in a realm she could only glimpse. He stood among rolling fields, crystalline rivers, a sky so perfect it almost mocked the brokenness she carried.
Her breath caught in her throat. "Pietro…"
He turned, his smile wide. "Wanda!"
I raised a hand. "Talk to him. I'll keep it open for a while."
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she walked slowly toward the portal, close but never able to pass through. Rules. Cosmic laws. Even I couldn't break some of them. But I could bend them.
They spoke. They laughed. She apologized. He waved her off. They talked about childhood, about running, about dreams.
I stood silently, giving her that moment. I wasn't cruel. Sometimes, Death knows when to wait.
After some time, I closed the portal slowly. "I can't keep it open forever."
She turned to me, her expression shifting between gratitude and frustration. "Why show me this? Why now?"
"Because," I said, meeting her gaze, "you're standing on a line, Wanda. One step to the left, and you fall into despair. One step to the right, and you rise."
"And if I want to cross that line?" she challenged.
I smiled. "Then maybe… you can walk it with me."
Her heart skipped. Not in the romantic way — no, this was deeper. A bond forged in grief and power.
"Join me, Wanda," I offered. "I'm not offering salvation. I'm offering freedom. No more shackles of what others expect you to be. You won't be their weapon. You won't be their savior. You'll just be… yourself. With me."
Her lips parted to answer, but before she could, the air shifted.
A portal opened behind us. The Ancient One stepped through, her calm gaze settling on me.
"You're interfering," she said.
I rose to my feet, brushing off my suit. "Oh, please. Don't act like you've never meddled."
"The Eye of Agamotto gives me vision," she warned, "and I've seen what you can become."
I stepped toward her, my voice dropping low, sharp. "The Eye shows you possibilities. It grants glimpses. But sometimes… it shows you me. And if you try to stand in my way again, Ancient One, I will not negotiate."
"You don't have that authority," she countered, her voice steady.
And then — a whisper, only for her, resonated through the very fabric of existence.
"He does."
The voice of God. Absolute.
Her expression faltered for just a moment, then she straightened, reluctantly stepping back.
"You're changing the balance," she said.
"That's the idea."
She vanished into her portal, leaving me with Wanda.
"You don't seem to follow anyone's rules," Wanda murmured.
"That's because I make them." I offered my hand again. "Come with me. No contracts. No chains. Just… us."
Her hand hovered over mine, trembling. "Why me?"
"Because you've already walked with grief," I said softly. "You understand the weight of loss. I don't need a soldier. I need someone who sees the beauty in the broken."
She finally took my hand.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
I grinned. "Anywhere you want. But first—"
I snapped my fingers, and we were standing atop a skyscraper, overlooking a sleeping city.
"Let me show you how Death enjoys a good drink."
As we disappeared into the night, I could almost feel the panic in the Reaper's HR department.
I could hear Gabriel cursing under his breath.
I could feel the Ancient One watching the threads of fate twisting unnaturally.
And somewhere, God himself chuckled.
Because Death just broke the rhythm. And the dance was just getting started.