"That roasted beef trotter smells amazing. Finn, how about we go check it out?"
At that moment, Wanda's eyes lit up like she'd just discovered a hidden gem. She pointed excitedly toward the source of the smell, her expression practically glowing.
"Absolutely. Let's go have a look."
Finn nodded with a soft smile, gently patted her head, and took her slender hand in his. They moved quickly through the street, hand in hand.
The Dark Witch wasn't far behind. Without hesitation, she looped her arm through Finn's other one, striding beside them.
Neither Finn nor Wanda seemed to mind her closeness, and soon the trio arrived at a small shop specializing in roasted beef trotters.
The savory aroma wafted into the sky like it had a mind of its own—an irresistible force that lured them in.
After the trotters, they strolled down the rest of the street, hopping between shops and snack stalls, tasting unique drinks and sampling treats that each had their own character.
It was one of those moments that felt suspended in time—simple, vivid, and oddly precious.
Eventually, dusk fell, and the three of them made their way into a narrow alley. The crowd noise faded behind them. The place was nearly deserted.
Moonlight spilled in slivers across the pavement as they strolled slowly, not really in a hurry, more like they were savoring the calm, the quiet hum of night.
"It's so peaceful here," the Dark Witch murmured.
She glanced up. The shadows were thick even beneath the moonlight. The darkness clung to everything—it wasn't threatening, just heavy.
"Something on your mind?" Wanda asked gently. She'd noticed the shift in the other woman's mood.
Wanda always noticed. It wasn't just shared experience—they were essentially the same person across universes. And over time, those similarities had carved away any lingering hostility.
There had been tension in the beginning, sure. But conflict gave way to understanding. Now, they were more like estranged sisters who had finally found their way back.
"Maybe," the Dark Witch said softly. "That memory... it's not just pain. It's a part of me."
Her voice was calm, but there was something hollow in it—like she was only half-speaking, the other half of her lost in some echo of the past.
Truth was, she didn't even know what she needed anymore. "Sometimes I just... want to enjoy this kind of peace," she added, almost to herself.
But peace wasn't hers to claim. She knew that. She didn't belong in this world—not really. And she wasn't going to fight Wanda for anything.
Even if she tried, it wouldn't matter. You can't force someone to love you. A twisted bond never turns sweet.
She understood that.
Still, that didn't make the ache go away.
"You don't have to see it that way," Finn said, voice steady, warm. "Some things are written in the stars. But sometimes, what's best for us... isn't what we expected."
He looked directly at her, his tone laced with empathy.
After all, he knew what she'd been through. Her universe—her entire existence—had been obliterated. Alone. Desolate.
No one would choose to return to that kind of void.
Choosing peace wasn't a weakness. It was survival.
"Yeah," Wanda chimed in, squeezing the Dark Witch's hand. "We're not alone anymore. That's what matters. Whatever happens, we're better off facing it together, right?"
Her voice was resolute, unwavering.
It wasn't just words. It was truth, carved out by shared trauma and sealed by unspoken understanding.
This wasn't a traditional bond. It wasn't exactly friendship. And it wasn't family, either. It was something deeper, more raw—a connection born of fractured selves trying to heal.
It was trust.
"Thank you," the Dark Witch replied after a long pause.
The stiffness in her shoulders eased, and the storm behind her eyes dimmed slightly.
She needed this more than she realized. And holding on to old wounds would only poison something rare and good between them.
---
The next morning, the sky was a pale wash of gray, the first rays of sunlight casting long shadows across the compound.
Finn, Wanda, and the Dark Witch were headed toward the Grand Hall. Today was the day they'd be dispatched to investigate the Demon Faction—an anomaly that had been disrupting the multiverse's balance from the shadows.
They walked in silence, each step drawing them closer to something unknown.
When they reached the Hall, the air inside was tense.
Stephen Strange stood near the council elders, arms crossed, his usual calm tinged with unease. Beside him was an older man with a commanding presence
"Finn, you're finally here," the old leader greeted with a faint smile. "We've been waiting."
Strange nodded in greeting, but his face was unreadable. "This mission won't be easy. The dimensional readings are unstable. For safety, only three can go."
The decision had already been made—no debate, no revision.
They were treating this with extreme caution. One misstep could unravel everything.
"Who are you sending?" Wanda asked, her voice tight with concern.
She knew the risks. The Demon Faction wasn't just a cult—they were remnants of the corrupted multiverse, drawing power from forbidden chaos spells, some even older than Chthon's original codices.
One wrong move, and they'd be facing eldritch entities that didn't obey logic or mercy.
The elder didn't hesitate. "Finn. Brice. Stephen."
A beat of silence passed.
It wasn't a surprise. The list had been settled earlier. But for Wanda and the Dark Witch, it hit like a sudden drop in gravity.
"I'm going with them," Wanda said, stepping forward without hesitation. Her tone was fierce.
She didn't want Finn to face that danger alone. She'd rather risk her life than let him walk into chaos without her.
"You need to stay," Finn said firmly. "She needs you here."
He looked at the Dark Witch when he said it.
"And besides," he added, "after what I went through at the Angel Tower, I've leveled up—big time. My power's been refined. This isn't me being reckless."
He wasn't smiling now. He was deadly serious.
Wanda hesitated. She didn't like it, not one bit. But she could see it in his eyes—he wasn't bluffing.
And she couldn't protect him by smothering him.
"...Fine," she murmured, gripping his hand. "But you come back. All of you."
Stephen raised an eyebrow. "Let's not tempt fate just yet."
Even Brice, usually the sarcastic one, was quiet.
They all knew what was waiting for them on the other side wasn't just danger.
It was darkness.
And once you step into darkness... coming back is never guaranteed.
------*--
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