The late afternoon sun bathed New York City in a golden glow as the team stepped out of Stark Tower for the first time since returning from Westchester. The hum of the city filled the air—car horns blaring, the distant wail of sirens, and the ever-present buzz of life that never really stopped.
Wanda inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of street food mixed with the faint tang of pollution. Ah, New York. The city that smells like ambition and hot dogs.
"Feels good to be back," Gwen said, adjusting her jacket as they strolled down the bustling sidewalk. "Though, I'd feel better if we didn't stick out like a sore thumb."
"Oh, please," Natasha snorted, glancing at the group. "Six gorgeous women strutting down the street? We don't stick out—we own this sidewalk."
Jean smirked, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. "Speak for yourself. I'm just here to look intimidating."
"You don't have to try," Talia quipped, earning a round of chuckles.
They moved as a unit—Wanda, Jean, Storm, Natasha, Gwen, and Talia—drawing the eyes of pedestrians as they passed. Some gawked openly, while others whispered to companions, trying to figure out if they were supermodels, celebrities, or just a gang of badass women you didn't want to mess with.
As they rounded the corner into a quieter alleyway—because, naturally, shortcuts were always the best option in horror movies and superhero life—a figure stepped out from the shadows.
"Hold it right there!" a voice barked.
The team collectively groaned.
Standing in front of them was a scrawny man in a ratty hoodie, holding up what looked like a cheap handgun. His hands trembled slightly, but his eyes darted between the women with a mix of desperation and overconfidence.
"Wallets! Phones! Jewelry!" he barked again, waving the gun wildly. "Don't try anything funny!"
There was a beat of silence.
Then Wanda snorted.
"Oh, honey," she said, shaking her head. "You really picked the wrong group."
The man's eyes narrowed. "I said—"
Before he could finish, Jean's eyes glowed faintly, and with a casual flick of her wrist, the gun crumbled in his hand, the metal twisting and folding in on itself like a piece of paper. The would-be robber stared at the mangled weapon, his jaw dropping.
But that wasn't the end of it.
"Oh no, you're not getting off that easy," Storm murmured, raising a hand to the sky. The air around them crackled as the temperature dropped. A bolt of lightning shot from her fingertips, striking the man square in the chest.
There was a flash of light and a loud zap, and the man flew backward, screaming as he crashed into a nearby dumpster. The lid snapped shut with a satisfying clang, leaving only the faint sound of groaning from inside.
Storm lowered her hand, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "That's how you send robbers off with a bang in New York City."
The group burst into laughter.
"Oh, come on!" Gwen groaned, pulling out her Taser of Truth from her pocket. "I didn't even get to use my lifelong tazing companion."
"You'll get your chance, Sparky," Natasha said, patting Gwen on the shoulder. She glanced at the dumpster, where the man's groans were getting fainter. "Now that's how you take out the trash—cleaning up New York City, one robber at a time."
"Do we even need to call the cops?" Talia asked, peering at the dumpster like it might suddenly spring to life.
"Nah," Gwen said with a grin. "They'll find him. This is New York—it's practically a tradition at this point."
The group continued down the street, their laughter echoing behind them as they left the robber to contemplate his life choices in a metal coffin of shame.
They returned to Stark Tower later that evening, still chuckling about their encounter.
"I swear," Wanda said, kicking off her boots and flopping onto the plush couch in the living room. "Only in New York would a homeless guy with a gun try to rob six superpowered women and think he'd walk away with more than a concussion."
"Honestly," Jean replied, plopping down next to her, "I kind of admire his confidence."
Storm smirked, crossing her arms. "Confidence is one thing. Stupidity is another."
Gwen, still holding her unused taser, sighed dramatically. "RIP, Taser of Truth. You'll have your moment soon."
Natasha chuckled, pouring herself a glass of wine from the bar. "At this rate, I'm surprised we haven't been ambushed by more idiots. I mean, we're practically a walking target for New York's finest criminals."
As if on cue, Wanda's phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen and raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of idiots… Peter Parker just texted me."
Gwen perked up. "Peter? What's he want?"
Wanda read the message aloud, her voice dripping with amusement. "'Hey, Gwen. I could use your help with a project. It's kind of a big deal. Also… do you have any hot friends?'"
The room exploded with laughter.
"Oh, Peter," Jean said, shaking her head. "Never change."
"What's the project?" Natasha asked, setting her glass down.
Wanda tapped out a quick reply before answering. "Something about helping his boss, Dr. Octavius. Apparently, they're working on some bioengineering experiment and he thinks Gwen's the genius to solve it."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "He just wants me there so he can drool over you guys."
"Can you blame him?" Talia said with a wink. "We are irresistible."
Wanda laughed, stretching out on the couch. "Well, if nothing else, this'll be fun. I'm curious to meet this Dr. Octavius."
"Yeah," Storm added, her eyes gleaming. "Let's see how long it takes for us to accidentally blow up a lab."
Gwen groaned. "Let's not blow up anything. I still need a reference from Peter's boss."
As the team settled in for the night, the buzz of the city below was a comforting reminder that they were back where they belonged—in the heart of chaos.
But even as they laughed and teased each other, a new chapter was unfolding. Peter Parker's message was just the beginning. What started as a simple favor for a friend would soon lead them down a path filled with danger, discovery, and unexpected alliances.
And knowing Wanda?
She'd meet it all with a smirk and a spark of chaos magic.
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