The moonlight, soft and ethereal, still managed to trickle through the thick, interwoven canopy of ancient trees, casting intricate silver patterns across the damp forest floor. Elric stood still amidst the lingering chaos, his brows subtly furrowed, a faint crease of confusion marring his otherwise composed expression. This wasn't what he'd anticipated. Of course, the sheer likelihood of encountering Wanda Maximoff in Sokovia existed—but not like this. Not now. Not when his own grand plans were still in such a delicate, nascent stage.
Too much thing is connected to Wanda in this universe, where mutant exist.
The sheer weight of possibilities churned in his head, a rapid calculation of variables and outcomes. He no longer cared about the TVA; their meddling was a distant, irrelevant hum now. What concerned him, what truly mattered, was simpler, starker: Wanda Maximoff herself. If she chose to stand against him, she would undoubtedly become one of the most formidable obstacles to his future.
"So when Leo's fangs were just a breath away from tearing her apart, Elric—for a fleeting moment—genuinely considered not intervening."
But then, His cold, calculating thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a familiar flash of scarlet energy—the unmistakable remnants of chaos magic still lingering in the humid air, a residue of raw, unstable force. He'd noticed it the moment he arrived, the primal power clinging to the very essence of the girl.
So, for now, killing her is not an option anymore, at least not by his hand.
But instead…
A slow, natural smile crept across Elric's lips.
It was not the smile of kindness. It was the kind of smile that made your blood freeze—a mask carved with precision, hiding thoughts too dangerous to be voiced.
Wanda's breath caught in her throat, a tiny, strangled sound.
Her legs refused to move. Her entire body locked in place as if encased in invisible chains. Something primal within her screamed, "Run!", but her limbs betrayed her.
The boy with the golden hair began to walk toward her. Each step was deliberate, unhurried, echoing ominously in the sudden silence of the forest.
And following close behind him… was that beast.
The giant white tiger, its massive form padding silently across the damp forest floor, its fur shimmering like freshly fallen snow under the pale moonlight. Its emerald eyes glowed faintly in the dark, twin beacons of predatory intent. Each movement fluid and predatory.
"I'm Elric," the boy said at last, his voice calm and conversational, utterly detached from the carnage around them. "Sorry about Leo's earlier actions."
Wanda blinked, barely processing the casual apology. Her eyes darted toward the dead—men scattered nearby, their broken bodies stark against the forest floor. A shiver traced its way down her spine.
"You don't seem to be in a great situation," Elric continued, his gaze sweeping over the mangled corpses without a hint of sympathy, as if merely observing an unfortunate, but unremarkable, accident. "And from what I can tell, you guys are not from the same group." He paused, his blue eyes finally resting on her. "You can stay at my place. At least until this mess clears up."
Before she could even formulate a coherent answer, he walked up to her without hesitation—and simply lifted her with one arm as if she weighed nothing more than a pillow.
"Wha—!?" she gasped, a startled sound.
Her instinct screamed at her to resist, to fight, to pull away from his touch, but as her gaze instinctively turned, she found herself staring directly into the tiger's glowing, emerald eyes. They watched her, unblinking, utterly focused. The moment froze, suspended in the night air. Her courage, fragile and tenuous, evaporated instantly, replaced by a deep, primal understanding of her helplessness.
Wanda went silent, choosing to remain perfectly still in his arms. It was humiliating. Embarrassing. But… safe. For now.
Then, like lightning striking a still pond, a sudden realization pierced through the fog of shock.
"Pietro!" she blurted out, her voice raw with alarm. "Where's Pietro!?"
Elric didn't pause, didn't even break his stride. "He's fine. Just unconscious."
They approached Pietro, who stood stiff as a statue, his eyes unfocused, unmoving, his silver hair a pale beacon in the dim light. Wanda's heart raced, fear seizing her again.
No—wait. He was breathing. His pulse, though shallow, was steady beneath her trembling fingers. With a light touch, Elric gently tipped him backward, and Pietro tipped gracefully onto the ground like a carefully placed doll.
"Speechless," Wanda muttered to herself, a hollow laugh escaping her lips.
Leo, the massive tiger, padded forward once again, its movements fluid and silent. Elric gave a light nudge with his knee against the tiger's flank, and the beast, with surprising obedience, lowered its huge body to the ground. Elric then picked up Pietro with no effort at all, and tossed him gently onto Leo's broad, striped back.
The tiger rumbled, a low growl of protest echoing deep in its chest.
"Don't complain," Elric muttered, a faint hint of exasperation in his voice. "Just follow me."
And Leo did. The magnificent beast, like a loyal, albeit grumbling, pet, padded silently after its master, carrying Pietro's unconscious form effortlessly.
Next Morning....
When Wanda finally opened her eyes, a soft, unfamiliar warmth touched her cheek, banishing the lingering chill of the night.
Golden-orange sunlight peeked through a slightly ajar door, painting the walls of the dark room in the gentle, inviting hues of dawn. The silence was profound, a tranquil, comforting blanket that wrapped around her, utterly devoid of the horrors of the night. She felt her body relax, every muscle untensing, no longer coiled with the desperate fear that had consumed her.
She yawned softly, a deep, satisfying stretch that pulled at her muscles, then rubbed the last remnants of sleep from her eyes.
What a night…
Strangely, despite everything—despite the fresh memories of blood, the brutal violence, the monstrous tiger, and the chilling boy—she had slept peacefully. More peacefully, in fact, than she had in years, as if the sheer exhaustion had reset something deep within her, silencing the usual anxieties.
But then, like a storm breaking through a fleeting patch of blue sky, the horrific memories came rushing back, crashing over her with a sudden, overwhelming force.
Her eyes snapped wide open, a jolt of adrenaline surging through her.
"Pietro!"
She sat up abruptly, her head spinning slightly, and turned sharply toward the sleeping form beside her.
Pietro lay sprawled, utterly motionless, in a deep, almost unnaturally peaceful slumber, his silver hair fanned out around his head. Wanda frowned, then, with a familiar, exasperated gesture, reached over and gave a firm tap to his forehead.
"Wha—?!"
He jolted upright, his eyes wide and dazed, blinking rapidly at the unfamiliar room around him. His silver hair was mussed, sticking up at odd angles.
"Wanda…? Are we dead? Is this… heaven?" he mumbled, his voice already trembling with a mixture of confusion and lingering fear.
Wanda rolled her eyes, a flicker of her old exasperation cutting through the lingering terror. She began explaining everything, meticulously recounting the night's impossible events: from the monstrous tiger and the shocking massacre, to the strange, golden-haired boy who had saved them, and finally, their current, inexplicable lodging in the middle of nowhere.
As Pietro listened, his initial fear slowly gave way to wide-eyed bewilderment, and he gradually calmed down, though a faint tremor still ran through his body. Still, neither of them could shake the sheer strangeness of their surroundings, a comfortable room that felt utterly out of place in the middle of a forest.
They stood up cautiously, their muscles stiff but functional, and walked toward the door. The dark interior had made it difficult to see much earlier, but now that sunlight was streaming in—
"Wha…?"
They both froze, their eyes widening in shared astonishment.
A massive flatscreen TV dominated the far wall, something Pietro had only ever seen in glossy tech magazines, a fantastical luxury from a world beyond their reach. Below it, a brand new PS3 gleamed like a newly discovered treasure. A huge, impossibly luxurious sofa sat nearby, inviting them with its plush cushions, and a mini fridge buzzed quietly next to it. On the far wall—a fully functional AC unit hummed softly, circulating cool, clean air.
Wanda blinked again, then again. Surely this wasn't… real? It felt like a dream, or some cruel illusion.
But yes. It was all there. Solid. Tangible.
"I thought we were still in the forest…" she murmured, her voice laced with disbelief, as she instinctively stepped outside, drawn by the call of the natural world.
And they were.
Despite the modern, almost impossibly luxurious room behind them, they were still utterly surrounded by trees. Thick, tall trees stretched toward the morning sky, their ancient branches reaching for the sun. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting a gentle, dappled glow over the forest clearing, illuminating dew-kissed leaves.
Wanda was still looking around, searching for someone else—the boy from last night, the golden-haired enigma. And soon, her eyes found him.
Elric.
He sat quietly on the porch's edge, sipping coffee from a mug, basking in the tranquil morning light.