"You didn't honestly think you could sneak up on me, did you?"
Marcus's calm voice echoed faintly through the cave as he stood before its mouth, watching the sky burn with the fury of the rampaging Zombie Leviathan. Behind him, the Scarlet Witch stepped into view, her hands glowing with scarlet energy, eyes filled with cold disgust as she glared at his back.
Through their psychic link, Marcus had already imprinted fragments of his memories into her mind—carefully edited fragments. He'd shown her just enough truth to make his story believable, but conveniently left out everything that tied him to the destruction of Sokovia.
"Now you understand your situation, don't you?" Marcus said evenly, his tone more like a teacher correcting a naïve student than an enemy addressing a threat.
Wanda hesitated, lowering her trembling hands. A weary sigh escaped her lips. "So you're not S.H.I.E.L.D. after all. You did all of this—just to steal Loki's scepter… You brought this disaster upon my home."
Marcus's smirk was quiet and cruel. Her words rolled off him like water. "You're mistaken," he said softly, deliberately. "I didn't order this invasion. It was the Avengers who decided to attack. And the one who turned your city into ruins…"
He tilted his head slightly, gesturing toward the blazing horizon.
"…was their so-called hero—the Hulk."
He stepped aside, motioning for her to look.
For a moment, Wanda hesitated, as though sensing what she was about to see would scar her forever. But she stepped forward anyway—and froze.
Before her stretched a landscape of nightmares.
A sea of flames devoured what had once been her city. Streets burned like rivers of molten light. Buildings lay shattered and blackened; some still crumbled as she watched. There were no screams now—no survivors left to scream. Only smoke, fire, and silence.
The air reeked of ash and blood.
"Hell…" The word slipped out of her trembling lips. Her body shook violently as her eyes filled with tears. "Who… who could do this?"
The scene tore open an old wound—one that had never healed. The memory of her parents' deaths in a U.S. bombing raid came flooding back, vivid and merciless.
Why? Why did history have to repeat itself? Even after she had gained power—enough power to protect her home—she was once again left with nothing but ashes.
Marcus, of course, didn't answer.
He wasn't about to tell her that it was he who had released Abomination from the island prison, deliberately luring Hulk to Sokovia. Nor that it was he who hijacked Hydra's automated defense cannons and ordered the bombardment that wiped out her people.
No, that truth was far too useful to waste.
Instead, he turned her grief into a weapon.
Through their mental link, the Zombie Leviathan—still locked in combat with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s aerial fleet—suddenly twisted aside with surprising agility, dodging a missile. The projectile soared past the monster and slammed into the city below, detonating in a brilliant fireball.
"BOOM!"
The explosion lit the night sky once more. Wanda staggered back in shock, clutching her chest as a fresh wave of horror rippled through her.
Her gaze lifted—and she saw the emblem on the aircraft that had fired the missile.
S.H.I.E.L.D.
Her horror turned to fury.
Exactly as Marcus intended.
He turned to face her fully, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Now then, Wanda… tell me." His tone sharpened into command. "Would you rather I strip away your will, turn you into an empty shell… or do you want to see those who destroyed your home suffer the same fate?"
"I… I want…" Her voice faltered, her mind torn between rage and reason. "But not everyone deserves this. People like Baron Strucker—he…"
Marcus laughed.
It wasn't mirthful—it was mocking, echoing off the cave walls like the laughter of a devil.
"Oh, that?" he said, amusement dripping from every word. "Allow me to show you something."
Through their shared link, he projected a "memory" into her mind—a scene constructed from fragments of truth and carefully fabricated deceit.
Wanda saw it all: the Hydra defense batteries launching volley after volley of missiles into the sky, each shell arcing toward the city below. The explosions blooming over Sokovia. The twin giants—Hulk and Abomination—caught in the fire, their battle spreading destruction across the entire district.
The vision was brutal. Real. Too real.
"This… is an illusion?" Wanda asked, voice trembling. "No… no, Strucker wouldn't… he couldn't have ordered this! He sent his soldiers to help evacuate the civilians—he cared about our people!"
Marcus's voice cut through her denial like a knife. "You of all people should know the difference between illusion and reality, Wanda. You can feel it, can't you? The truth behind it. You think a man like Strucker ever cared about lives that weren't his own?"
He leaned closer, his tone colder now. "He used you. Used your brother. Used your country. And when you'd outlived your usefulness—he turned your home into a graveyard."
The "memory" held no trace of falsehood that Wanda could detect. To her, every detail was flawless—the sound of the bombardment, the screams, the faces of the soldiers she once trusted.
There was no reason to doubt what she saw.
And the pain of betrayal broke her.
"Nooooo—!"
Her scream ripped through the air, a mix of anguish and rage. She collapsed to her knees, clutching her head, sobbing uncontrollably. "He lied… he lied to us all…"
Marcus watched silently for a moment, then stepped forward. His expression was cold—almost gentle in its cruelty.
He extended his hand. "I won't ask again."
Through her tears, Wanda looked up at him—her crimson eyes shimmering with sorrow and despair. Slowly, almost unconsciously, she placed her trembling hand into his.
Her fate was sealed.
[You have subdued the Zombie Hero: Scarlet Witch.
She is now bound to your psychic network and cannot defy your commands, unless her consciousness is entirely destroyed.]
Marcus's lips curved into a faint, satisfied smile.
Another piece had fallen into place.
_____
T/N:
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