[wanda forces herself out of the horizon without giving any thought as to the where or how. it's probably why she lands in an explosion of red inside nero's loftโclose enough to her actual target: somewhere outside in the farm's fieldsโand drags along with her magic the mattress and wooden beams that hold it up. it's a mess in here, the racket likely to startle the animals in the barn, but there is also the pained yelling of one wanda maximoff in the mix.
something happened there in the horizon, with goro. clearly she's fine, her physical body uninjured, but the chaos magic inside her is, well, in chaos. it pulses out of her into her skin, escapes her and touches her surroundings, warping them into something otherworldly, destroying them once it pulls back and away.
a red crown is etched from this energy onto her head. she's holding onto her middle, lying amidst the rubble, squirming. the world around her feels like a kaleidoscope of colors and mirrors, of a prophecy forged with ash and smoke into the bindings of the darkhold. she sees images of her sons when she opens her eyes, of vision's lifeless body with a hole in his head, of pietro's vacant eyes and blood seeping out of bullet holes in his chestโ]
No!
[โshe closes them quickly, trying to remove the hallucinations her magic is conjuring, trying to put down the pain and the grief. she doesn't need another westview situation to take place.
she doesn't want power. she just wantsโ justโ
a vision in gold, of a woman descending from its core. on her head a crown, the scarlet witch, your fate, agatha's words sound as loud as if she were here, is to destroy the world.
another pulse of magic, the beams of the barn's walls, now, dragging a little as their foundation breaks.]
post-goro fight
something happened there in the horizon, with goro. clearly she's fine, her physical body uninjured, but the chaos magic inside her is, well, in chaos. it pulses out of her into her skin, escapes her and touches her surroundings, warping them into something otherworldly, destroying them once it pulls back and away.
a red crown is etched from this energy onto her head. she's holding onto her middle, lying amidst the rubble, squirming. the world around her feels like a kaleidoscope of colors and mirrors, of a prophecy forged with ash and smoke into the bindings of the darkhold. she sees images of her sons when she opens her eyes, of vision's lifeless body with a hole in his head, of pietro's vacant eyes and blood seeping out of bullet holes in his chestโ]
No!
[โshe closes them quickly, trying to remove the hallucinations her magic is conjuring, trying to put down the pain and the grief. she doesn't need another westview situation to take place.
she doesn't want power. she just wantsโ justโ
a vision in gold, of a woman descending from its core. on her head a crown, the scarlet witch, your fate, agatha's words sound as loud as if she were here, is to destroy the world.
another pulse of magic, the beams of the barn's walls, now, dragging a little as their foundation breaks.]
Stop it!