Chapter 10: The Real and Fake Wanda

"Huh? Wanda! I'm here!"

Hearing Noah's shout, Pietro was stunned at first, but then excitedly yelled toward the figure ahead.

The silhouette, resembling the Scarlet Witch, seemed to hear the commotion and began approaching them at a steady pace. Her red cape fluttered gently in the breeze, making her stand out dramatically amidst the ruins.

Noah tilted his head slightly, a flicker of doubt and vigilance appearing in his eyes. A subtle unease crept into his chest as he tried to pinpoint the source of the discomfort. Something about her seemed... off.

His mind raced with questions as he scrutinized her closely. Was it her appearance? Her demeanor? Or perhaps her lack of urgency? He combed through his memories of the storyline he knew, searching for an answer.

Suddenly, realization struck like lightning. His eyes widened. Of course!

In the original plot, Scarlet Witch was never alone—there was always someone by her side. Why was she here by herself now?

More importantly, would the real Wanda react so calmly upon seeing her brother bound and at the mercy of others?

Without hesitation, Noah drew his pistol, aiming it squarely at the approaching "Scarlet Witch."

At that very moment, the figure moved abruptly, her speed increasing to an inhuman level. She let out a low, guttural growl that sent shivers through the air.

"Hehehe, so what if you've figured it out? A gun won't save you. Flesh is flesh—I'll eat it all the same!"

"No!"

The familiar yet shrill voice pierced Pietro's ears, sending his heart plummeting. Pain and sorrow surged through him, tears welling up in his red-rimmed eyes.

Noah, however, frowned deeply, his attention fixed on the figure. Her glamorous façade melted away, revealing her true form—a ghastly, blue-skinned creature with matted, golden hair that swayed in the wind.

As she ran, her skin shimmered with eerie blue ripples, momentarily shifting into patches of decayed, rotting flesh.

Mystique.

Now it all made sense. In the original storyline, Mystique disguised herself as Wanda and infected Pietro, spreading the virus globally at an unimaginable speed. Noah had nearly fallen for her deception.

His expression turned grim. Without hesitation, he fired twice at Mystique. The bullets whizzed through the air, but she twisted her body agilely, evading both shots.

The rounds struck a distant wall, leaving only faint echoes behind.

Glancing down at Pietro, still bound and visibly distraught, Noah crouched, reached out, and clenched his fist.

"Snap out of it! That's Mystique pretending to be Wanda. Roll out of the way—I'll handle this."

"Huh? Not Wanda?"

Finally opening his eyes, Pietro saw the blue-skinned zombie-like figure charging toward them. Without further hesitation, he wriggled desperately and rolled toward the edge of the street.

Noah quickly adjusted his aim, raising the pistol once more. Calm and collected, he squeezed the trigger. The bullet tore through the air, heading straight for Mystique.

Mystique roared, her form shifting rapidly as she dodged with inhuman agility. This time, however, her luck ran out—the bullet struck its target, tearing through her blue flesh and exposing the decayed muscle and bone beneath.

Mystique let out a blood-curdling scream as her transformation faltered, her disguise unraveling.

"Argh! This meat fights back!"

Yet the creature showed no intention of stopping. Enraged and wounded, she lunged at Noah with terrifying speed, her gaping maw and jagged teeth aiming straight for his throat.

In the nick of time, Noah took a deep breath and flung a handful of dirt, which he had discreetly grabbed earlier, directly at her face.

The soil scattered like raindrops, clinging to Mystique's skin and covering her eyes.

Blinded and disoriented, Mystique clawed at her face in frustration. The more she tried to clear her vision, the worse it became. Furious, she roared and flailed wildly, unable to see clearly.

Noah seized the opportunity, retreating a few steps before carefully aiming at her head.

Bang!

The shot rang out, and the bullet embedded itself deep in Mystique's skull.

She let out another piercing scream, staggering but refusing to fall. With a final, desperate lunge, her clawed hand swiped toward Noah, carrying deadly force.

Too close!

Noah's eyes widened as he instinctively dodged, the claws grazing his cheek and leaving a shallow cut. The near miss sent a chill down his spine.

If that had hit...

He didn't dare finish the thought. Infection would mean losing not just his life, but his humanity—a fate far worse than death.

"Goddammit!" he growled, firing relentlessly at Mystique's head.

Mystique's mutant physiology could resist smaller-caliber bullets and even reposition some of her internal organs, but her brain was immovable.

Gunfire and roars echoed through the street as Noah emptied his clip into her. Each bullet shredded through her head, leaving her face unrecognizable.

Finally, Mystique's body collapsed to the ground, convulsing briefly before lying still.

Breathing heavily, sweat dripping from his brow, Noah glanced at Pietro, who had rolled to safety at the far end of the street.

"You okay?" Pietro asked, his voice dazed.

"Fine. Just startled," Noah replied, shaking his head. "Let's move. We can't stay here."

Before they could continue, a distant buzzing noise grew louder. The hum turned into a roar as helicopters appeared on the horizon, their blades cutting through the air.

"They're here," Noah muttered, squinting at the sky.

But before he could finish, a beam of red light shot out from the distance, striking one of the helicopters. It spiraled out of control, crashing with an explosion.

The remaining helicopters scattered in panic, their formation breaking apart as more beams took down several others.

Noah sighed, hefting Pietro onto his shoulder. "Let's go. Nothing we can do about that."

The two disappeared into the ruins, leaving the chaos behind.