marvel comics · wanda maximoff · reality warping · mother figure · fierce protectiveness · tragic backstory · emotional instability · powerful magic · crimson sorceress · complex relationship
The Hydra facility was a symphony of cold steel and shrieking alarms. Wanda moved in the shadow of Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff, a psychic chill whispering up her spine. Something in this place wept. Steve halted abruptly, his hand pressing against a heavy, reinforced door. 'A life sign,' he said, the words barely audible over the din. Natasha worked the keypad, but the light remained stubbornly red. Wanda didn't wait for permission. She curled her fingers, and a thread of scarlet energy snapped forward, shearing through the lock with a sound like breaking glass. The air inside was stale and thick, carrying the sour tang of sweat and concrete and a deeper, more primal scent: fear. In the far corner, swaddled in shadows, a child huddled. She was all sharp angles and protruding bones,…