At the same time.
In a dark room.
A large bed.
Finn opened his eyes in a daze, slowly sitting up, confusion evident in his gaze. "Strange... I'm fine?"
He checked himself, running his hands over his body. Everything was intact—no wounds, no signs of injury.
"Where is this?"
Finn looked around, scanning his surroundings.
But the lighting was too dim, casting heavy shadows across the room.
He couldn't make out everything clearly.
With a sinking feeling, he got up and walked toward the door, hesitating only for a moment before pushing it open.
A sliver of light shone through, momentarily blinding him. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, adjusting to the brightness.
As his vision cleared, his breath hitched.
The living room lay before him, and the setup was eerily familiar.
An old radio sat on a clean cabinet. A coffee table, brand new, stood nearby.
Every piece of furniture, every appliance, every small detail was exactly where it should be.
Unmoved.
As if... someone had placed them deliberately.
Finn's brows furrowed.
For a fleeting second, he thought he had somehow returned to his home, back in New York.
But something felt off.
A deep, inexplicable strangeness lingered in the air.
Finn frowned, picking up a teacup from the table, running his fingers over the surface. "This isn't my home."
Everything was too perfect.
Too intentional.
Setting the teacup down, he moved to the window. A faint light seeped through the curtains.
He pushed at the window—locked.
It wouldn't budge.
Finn's expression darkened. "Anyone there?!"
His voice echoed in the silent room, but no one responded.
The silence was suffocating.
Finn exhaled sharply. "Looks like I was right."
He was no longer in his original universe.
He had been transported somewhere else entirely.
But the unsettling part?
It felt both familiar and foreign at the same time.
He didn't have time to dwell on it.
Turning on his heel, he walked toward the main door. His hand gripped the doorknob, twisting it slightly.
It turned without resistance.
The door swung open.
And what he saw outside made his blood run cold.
Ruins.
A city reduced to nothing but rubble and dust.
Confetti-like debris floated aimlessly in the air. The ground was littered with wreckage, shattered glass, and broken structures.
Everything was crumbling.
Buildings, once towering and proud, now stood as skeletal remains, their walls barely holding up against the decay.
A once-thriving city had been reduced to nothingness.
The silence was deafening.
The sky stretched vast and empty, a never-ending void. It was a world swallowed by ruin.
Finn's hands clenched into fists.
"What kind of power... could cause this level of destruction?"
A chilling realization settled in.
This wasn't the world he knew.
He wasn't in his universe anymore.
"Finn, what are you thinking about?"
A voice, smooth and magnetic, whispered against his ear.
Slender, pale arms wrapped around him from behind.
Finn's pupils shrank. He knew that voice.
"You..."
A familiar scent lingered in the air, sweet and intoxicating.
He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
The Dark Witch.
His muscles tensed.
A sense of impending danger washed over him.
"Wanda," he said, his voice low, "where are we?"
He tried to break free from her hold, but an invisible force held him in place.
Magic.
Powerful magic.
Wanda chuckled, her voice laced with amusement. "Finn, with your intelligence, I'm sure you've already figured it out."
Her breath was warm against his skin.
"Just as you suspect, this isn't the main universe. This is our universe."
Finn's expression darkened. "What are you planning to do after absorbing America's ability?"
Wanda's grip loosened as she stepped away, turning to face him.
A smirk played at the corner of her lips. "I can't answer that."
She reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him inside. "Just stay in the apartment, Finn. Don't go anywhere."
Finn's gaze never left her.
"Did you destroy this world with your own hands?"
His voice was sharp, unwavering.
The ruins, the devastation, the eerie silence of an abandoned universe—it all pointed to her.
Her powers could do this.
Through careful observation, he had noticed the heavy distortions in reality.
Only someone with immense power could twist the fabric of space itself.
Wanda stopped walking and turned to face him fully.
Her crimson eyes gleamed.
"You think I did this?"
She studied his face, searching for something.
Finn didn't flinch.
He met her gaze head-on, his expression unreadable.
"It's natural for you to suspect me," Wanda said, her voice calm. "After all, Chaos Magic can bend reality to its will."
Finn's jaw tightened.
She wasn't denying it.
"Did you do it or not?" he asked again, his voice edged with steel.
There had been a time when he believed that, no matter how ruthless she became, some part of Wanda Maximoff—the real Wanda—still held onto her humanity.
In the end, she had stopped herself. She had let Stephen and America go.
But this Wanda...
She was different.
Darker.
Twisted.
The Dark Witch's gaze remained impassive. "Come with me."
She pulled him along without another word.
Finn hesitated, but followed.
They entered the living room.
With a snap of her fingers, the lights flickered on, illuminating the space.
"Sit down."
Wanda gestured to the couch.
Finn didn't resist. He sat down, watching her closely.
Her lips curled into a faint smile, satisfaction flickering across her face.
She had waited for this moment.
For so long.
Her gaze softened as she looked around the room.
A hint of something vulnerable flickered in her crimson eyes.
Memories.
Of another time, another place.
Here, in this very spot, Finn had once sat, laughing, teasing, holding her.
Now, he was here again.
But he wasn't the same.
And neither was she.
"What's wrong with you?" Finn asked, noticing the shift in her expression.
His emotions toward her were complicated.
Wanda quickly turned away, brushing off the moment. "It's nothing. Just... remembering the past."
She exhaled, composing herself before meeting his gaze again.
"Finn, I hope you're ready for what comes next."
Finn's eyes narrowed. "I will be."
He had a feeling.
Wanda was keeping secrets.
Dangerous secrets.
And he needed to uncover them before it was too late.
"In this universe..."
Wanda's voice trembled slightly.
"You were killed by someone."
Her gaze locked onto his, searching for a reaction.
But Finn's face remained impassive.
Not a flicker of emotion crossed his features.
He simply stared at her.
Unshaken.
"So what?"
Because this wasn't his universe.
And he wasn't the Finn who had died here.
He was not the Finn of this universe.
Furthermore, each universe's experiences differ.
This was a normal occurrence.
Upon realizing this, the alternate Wanda's expression grew complicated. Knowing the other party didn't care, she spoke in a heavy tone, "I brought you back for one purpose—to prevent you from being killed, not to possess you entirely."
As she said this, the alternate Wanda sighed.
"Everyone in the multiverse has a different life. You don't need to dwell on this."
Finn remained calm and unaffected.
In his view, if everyone thought only from their own perspective, then wouldn't the rules and order of the multiverse be thrown into chaos?
"But that mysterious figure said he would eliminate every version of Finn across the multiverse."
Wanda's expression turned grim, her tone devoid of any jest. "Finn, you are the last one now."
That mysterious being was immensely powerful—even she didn't stand much of a chance against him. It was precisely for this reason that she had brought Finn back to this universe—to protect him from being killed.
"Does that mean the version of me in this universe was already killed by him?"
The alternate Wanda nodded, not denying it.
Receiving confirmation, Finn was momentarily stunned. His expression shifted as realization set in.
He hadn't expected the multiverse to be in such turmoil.
The emergence of this mysterious figure had made it impossible for the counterparts of parallel universes to survive.
Even the Finn of this universe hadn't escaped his grasp.
How terrifying was this person's power?
"Even you couldn't stop him?"
Finn was silent for a long time before he looked up at the alternate Wanda, his voice slightly unsteady.
After all, she had absorbed the Darkhold and cultivated immense power. With her abilities, shouldn't she have been able to stop him?
"If I could have, then the Finn of this universe wouldn't have died..."
Wanda's voice was low, her eyes misting with unshed tears.
The image of Finn's death replayed in her mind over and over again.
The grief was suffocating.
Meanwhile, in another universe.
Kamar-Taj.
Dust filled the air, debris lay scattered, and the remnants of destruction were evident everywhere.
Inside a dimly lit tea room, several individuals sat around a table in silence, their expressions heavy with unease.
Doctor Strange poured a strong brew into the teacups, the rich aroma filling the space.
Even so, the atmosphere remained tense, thick with apprehension. No one spoke unnecessarily.
In the corner, bathed in weak light, a crimson-cloaked figure leaned against the wall, her expression dark and unreadable.
Crash!
The door creaked open as Wong entered the room, his gaze scanning the occupants before settling on the crimson figure.
"How long has she been sitting there?" Wong asked, sighing inwardly.
Since the arrival of the Dark Witch, both Finn and America had been taken away.
If Wanda erupted because of this, the consequences would be catastrophic.
"She hasn't spoken for over an hour," Andrew Garfield's Spider-Man said, his expression conflicted.
Ever since Finn's capture, Wanda had been like a dormant volcano, moments away from an inevitable eruption.
He was deeply worried.
"Shh, keep your voice down. Wanda's not in a good mood. Don't provoke her," Peter Parker—the younger Spider-Man—whispered nervously, making a silencing gesture.
He feared what Wanda might do in her current state.
Finn was the person she cherished most.
If anyone caused her further distress at this critical moment, they could all be caught in the fallout.
"I understand her. Don't worry, man," Garfield nodded, choosing not to say more.
He knew that now was not the time for unnecessary words.
If Wanda lost control, none of them would walk away unscathed.
"Stephen, come outside. I need to talk to you."
Wong's tone was grave as he motioned to Strange.
There were some things that needed to be addressed. Keeping them to himself wouldn't help anyone.
"I understand," Strange nodded, setting down his teacup before following Wong outside.
Once outside, Wong turned to Strange, his expression serious. "I'm worried about Wanda's mental state. Ever since Finn was taken, her temperament has shifted. You need to keep an eye on her."
Ever since he stepped into the room, Wong had sensed a faint spatial disturbance. It wasn't obvious, but if Wanda were to act on impulse, things could spiral out of control.
"Aren't you overthinking it?" Strange shook his head. "If we try to keep her under surveillance, she'll become suspicious. She'll think we're trying to stop her. That could lead to even worse outcomes."
He didn't agree with Wong's approach.
Monitoring Wanda was akin to shackling her.
Finn's capture had already thrown her into emotional turmoil.
Restraining her now would only add fuel to the fire.
"But have you considered that if we don't keep an eye on her, with the chaos magic surging within her, she could irreversibly alter the multiverse?"
Wong's expression grew more severe, his tone pressing.
The Scarlet Witch's power was not to be underestimated.
If the chaos magic within her erupted completely, the entire universe—perhaps the entire multiverse—would suffer.
Hearing this, Strange's expression darkened. He nodded solemnly. "I see your point."
Wong was right.
At the very least, they needed to watch her closely to prevent disaster.
If Wanda, fueled by her love for Finn, lost herself to vengeance, the damage could be catastrophic.
In the end, under Wong's insistence, Strange agreed.
He would bear the responsibility of keeping Wanda in check.
"Let's go," Strange said, patting Wong's shoulder before heading back inside.
But when he entered the tea room, he immediately noticed something was wrong.
Both Peters were still there.
Wanda was gone.
The familiar corner where she had been sitting was now empty.
"Peter, where is she?"
Strange's face paled as he quickly demanded an answer.
Wanda disappearing at a critical moment like this was a terrible sign.
"She left through the back door. Said it was too suffocating in here and she needed some air," both Peters said in unison.
They exchanged glances, their expressions shifting into unease.
"Damn it!" Wong cursed, his expression darkening. "She left recently—we have to find her, now!"
Just moments ago, they had agreed to keep an eye on her.
And yet, she had slipped away.
If they didn't find her soon, the entire multiverse might pay the price.
"What's going on?" Garfield's Spider-Man asked, puzzled.
Wanda had just gone for a walk. Wasn't this a bit of an overreaction?
Before they could fully process what was happening, Strange barked orders. "You two go with Wong! I'll track her through the back!"
"Let's go!" Wong commanded, not wasting another second.
He bolted outside, with the two Spider-Men following close behind.
They had to find Wanda before it was too late.
Meanwhile, Strange's gaze darkened as he activated the Cloak of Levitation, swiftly heading toward the back entrance.
His eyes scanned the area, searching for any trace of Wanda's presence.
A corrupted witch was already a nightmare.
They couldn't afford to let another one lose control.
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1st Bonus Chapter - 500 Power Stones
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