Template:Featured Articles/32-2021

Moment of Awesome - Wanda Maximoff/The Scarlet Witch: In Roma's fake world, Wanda Maximoff faces down the murderer of her lover, Stephen Strange. She fails... but she's not the only being occupying that body. "Wanda?" The slick feeling of Chthon spread throughout her mind, closing down her as many of her senses as it could with ruthlessness and efficiency. "I'm here," she whispered in the dark, not sure if she was talking in her mind or to herself. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered now. "Not much...not for much longer." There was a pause. "No, not for much longer I'm afraid." Its influence and power, its touch so familiar as to be welcome in the dark now, pressed against the barriers she and Stephen had put up so many years ago. "I am sorry." "Sorry...you'll...die with me," she gasped. "No...well, yes, of course. But I am sorry that you are. Despite being in this prison, I've grown fond of you. You allowed me some freedoms here and there. We had some good times will all that mayhem before...well, you know, before the cage and all that. I discovered bagels!" Its influence pressed again, feeling almost like a hand in hers. Almost like a comfort. "And I appear fond of you enough to be very, very angry about this. You know, you have the power to do one last thing and I promise you, if you do it of your own free will..." The voice became a whisper, reminding her that she was the key. And Wanda, with glazed eyes staring up at pieces of a broken ceiling, realized she wouldn't be here to see what would come of this decision. And so with that freeing thought, she placed a bloodied hand overtop of her shoulder, where a small, archaic-looking owl tattoo had been lovingly magicked into place and she blasted it with the remains of her chaos energy. Wanda Maximoff's world went red for the last time. Nick checked down the hole, smirking lightly. "Poor dear," he says with a put upon sigh, dusting himself off. "I will pass along my condolences to whichever teammates we keep alive." He turned and started walking away. "Poor someone, indeed," a voice - though it sounded like two voices layered on top of each other - said behind him. Scratch turned to see a figure covered in dust and soaked in blood rise out of the hole. Wanda's hands stretched out to either side, an almost angelic pose. If you ignored the piece of rebar sticking out of her or the far too wide smile showing far, far too many teeth as she set softly down on her feet. "Hello," Chthon said in Wanda's voice. It ran her hands through her hair, smoothing the curls back gently as it exposed the growing horns. "I don't think we've met properly."