The outskirts of Sokovia.
Amidst the shattered remains of what had once been a thriving neighborhood, a single house stood—broken, battered, yet oddly still standing. Unlike the surrounding ruins that had been reduced to near-flat ground, nothing but rubble and dust, this dilapidated structure clung stubbornly to its skeleton. Its windows were broken, its walls were cracked, but it remained. The broken glass and crumbling walls whispered of the past, of memories lost, of battles fought and survived.
It was as if fate itself—no, Lady Luck—had chosen to spare this home while everything else around it had crumbled to nothing. Or maybe an even more powerful force than fate was protecting this land.
And within its fractured walls, in the remnants of what was once a proper bedroom, a boy slept. His silver hair was messy and completely unkempt, his face peaceful—almost too peaceful for someone living in such a place. He slept deeply, curled up in a worn-out blanket, oblivious to the chaos beyond the walls.
Until the shaking began.
"Ugh..."
With a pained groan, the boy's brows furrowed as he was forcibly yanked from his slumber. He blinked slowly, groggily, trying to make sense of the blurry figure hovering directly over him. His vision focused gradually—and the face of his sister came into view. A very, very angry face.
"Wanda...?"
He barely managed to speak, his voice still thick with sleep. But before he could ask what was happening—
"You lazy piece of shit!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, loud enough to almost rupture his eardrums. "Do you even know what time it is?! If I have to sleep hungry again tonight because of you, I swear to God, I'll eat you instead!"
"W-What...?"
Her yelling snapped him back to reality instantly. Pietro's eyes widened as her words finally sank in completely. Oh no. That's right. He was supposed to pick up the relief food today—their only real source of sustenance these days, the only thing keeping them alive.
"Shit—!" He scrambled desperately out of the blanket, panicked and rushing to get dressed.
But before he could even reach the door—BANG.
The rusted entrance burst open with a loud, violent crash. Both siblings turned sharply, startled. Standing in the doorway was a man dressed in a cheap-looking black suit. Though it wasn't expensive or well-made, it was still an extremely unusual sight in this part of town, especially in a destroyed place like this.
His body was bloated, a massive belly stretching his coat's buttons to their absolute limit. His skin was greasy and sickly-looking, and what remained of his hair clung desperately to his mostly bald scalp. Despite looking no older than thirty, his unhealthy appearance almost made him pass for sixty.
And then, in a voice disturbingly thin and high-pitched for his grotesque form, he spoke.
"You know," he said with a disgusting smile, "if you just sleep with me, your life would become very easy. You wouldn't have to worry about food every single day like you do now, little Wanda."
Pietro's hands clenched immediately into tight fists. Alexei. The disgusting son of the local gang leader. For the past three months, this man had been a persistent, loathsome presence, appearing time and again to harass Wanda with his vile propositions.
Pietro knew, with a detached, grim practicality, that Alexei—despite his absolutely repulsive ugliness—technically represented her best chance. Maybe her only chance. With his powerful background and undeniable wealth, a life as Alexei's lover, however abhorrent, would be countless times better than her current squalor.
Everything would be perfect. If only the bastard wasn't completely insane.
This man was a genuine monster. He had killed his previous two wives with his bare hands, beat them to death. There was no world—no universe—in which Pietro would ever let him near his sister. Not ever.
Wanda stepped forward, her voice strained but trying to remain firm. "Alexei. How many times do I have to tell you? I don't like you. I will never like you. Leave us alone, please."
Alexei's expression twisted immediately. The fake smile disappeared completely. "You bitch. You think you actually have options? You think you can just say no to me?" he sneered with obvious contempt. "I already gave you too much time. More than enough chances. If you won't come willingly, then I'll just take you by force."
Before Wanda could react or back away, he grabbed her wrist roughly.
"Let go—!" She struggled, panic flashing clearly in her eyes.
But then—CRACK.
A sickening thump echoed through the room. Alexei dropped like a sack of meat, clutching his head in sudden agony. Pietro stood there, panting heavily, a worn-out baseball bat gripped tightly in his hand. His eyes burned with pure rage.
"Y-You bastard..."
The fat man rolled on the ground, groaning loudly, blood trickling from his scalp. He looked up in complete disbelief. "You... you know what you've done?" he hissed through gritted teeth. "My father knows I'm here. He knows where I went. You're dead. Your sister is dead. Your whole family—"
CRUNCH.
The second blow landed clean and hard, right on the head. Before he could finish his vile threat, the bat descended with brutal, unhesitating force. It connected directly with his skull, utterly mashing his head. Alexei fell again, this time limp, his eyes wide and vacant, staring up at nothing. Disbelieving horror frozen on his face. He couldn't believe it—he, Alexei, would die like this, by the hand of a mere street rat.
Dead.
The bat slipped from Pietro's trembling hands and fell with a hollow thud. His breathing was uneven, his hands shaking violently. The weight of what he had just done began to crash into him all at once.
Wanda stared in absolute horror. "P-Pietro... what did you do...?"
"I... he..." His words were lost. He couldn't speak.
Then—THUMP THUMP THUMP. Five men stormed into the broken home, their weapons drawn—guns, knives, bats. For a moment, they froze completely, staring at the scene before them in stunned silence. Their boss's son, dead on the floor.
That was all the time Wanda needed. She grabbed her brother's arm tightly. "Come on!"
"Wha—?"
"Just move!"
Dragging the shell-shocked Pietro behind her, she raced toward the broken window without hesitation and leapt out. It was only a one-story fall, but enough to hurt if you landed wrong. Luckily, the recent rain had softened the ground significantly. They landed hard but without serious injury.
"Wanda... I—"
"Snap out of it!" SLAP. Her palm met his cheek with a sharp crack. "You can feel guilty later—if we survive this!"
Behind them, the five men gave chase immediately, their angry shouts echoing across the broken streets. "STOP THEM!" "DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE!"
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