002

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Wanda Maximoff sat on the cold metal floor of her cell, her knees pulled up to her chest, staring at the cracks in the wall as if they might offer her answers. The dim lighting cast long shadows, creating an eerie, oppressive silence. Despite the isolation, she felt anything but alone. Something was different. That presence, that faint connection she had sensed in the lab during her last test—it hadn't gone away. It lingered, tugging at the edges of her mind like a whisper just beyond her hearing. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on it, to feel it more clearly, but the harder she tried, the more elusive it became.

It was like trying to catch smoke in her hands. She could feel it there—somewhere—but it was always just out of reach. It was growing, but she didn't know what it was. And it terrified her.

Sighing, she let her head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. Her powers, the ones HYDRA had forced out of her, had been growing, but they still weren't strong enough. Not for this. She'd felt flashes of potential before, felt reality bend to her will in fleeting moments, but the full extent of what she could do remained a mystery. Whatever connection she felt now, it was bigger than her—too big for her to control.

Wanda clenched her fists in frustration. She had always hated feeling powerless, and despite HYDRA's experiments, despite the abilities they had unlocked in her, she felt weaker than ever.

Her thoughts drifted back to Pietro, her brother, her other half. He was locked away in a similar cell somewhere else in the facility. They didn't let them spend time together anymore, not unless it was for training or further experimentation. 

She rose to her feet and began pacing the cramped room, her thoughts a whirlwind. The feeling clung to her, impossible to ignore yet equally impossible to understand. It was unfamiliar, and unsettling, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't trace it back to its origin. It lingered, like something quietly swelling in the depths of her mind, just out of reach. Frustration gnawed at her, but she shook it off. There were more pressing matters at hand—her brother. They had never been apart for this long, and the worry gnawed at her far more than this strange, elusive sensation.

She wanted to tell herself it was nothing, just a side effect of the experiments, but deep down, she knew better. She could feel it. Whatever was happening to her—it was alive. New, unfamiliar, but unmistakably alive.

But she wasn't ready to fully understand it. Not yet.

With a sigh, she sank back onto her cot, hugging her knees to her chest. Maybe it was better to stop thinking about it for now. All the power building inside her, all the raw potential, wouldn't matter until she was ready. The connection would have to wait. HYDRA had their claws too deep in her and Pietro, and there was no escaping that.

Not that they wanted to escape. Not yet.

The door to her cell slid open with a metallic hiss. Wanda's head snapped up as a guard entered, flanked by two others. No words, no explanation—she didn't need one.

"Get up," the guard ordered gruffly. "It's time."

Wanda stood, her legs stiff from sitting too long, but the guards didn't wait for her to move on her own. Rough hands grabbed her arms, steering her into the hallway. The cold, sterile air stung her skin, the hum of machinery and the stench of antiseptic too familiar by now. Her heart pounded in her chest. Another test. More training. It was always the same routine, over and over again.

They led her through the winding, labyrinthine corridors of the facility, past heavy, locked doors, until they reached a large chamber buzzing with flickering monitors and dim lights. Pietro was already there, waiting for her.

Their eyes met, and she could see the same exhaustion in his face, the same burning frustration. His silver hair hung messily over his forehead, the usual smirk gone. The guards shoved her into the room and took their places by the door.

"Wanda," Pietro muttered quietly.

"Pietro," she replied, her voice low. They both knew better than to talk too much. Everything here was monitored.

HYDRA didn't bring them together unless it suited their plans. No real reunion. No time to strategize or speak freely. Just part of the control.

Pietro crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at her. "They dragged you out too? I thought I had more time before the next round of this nonsense."

Wanda smirked faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, 'peace.' Any more of those 'enhancements' they keep promising you?"

"Nothing new," he replied, his tone flat. "More speed trials. More endurance tests. Same old, same old."

She could feel the restlessness in him, his barely contained energy crackling beneath the surface. HYDRA had reduced them to this—endless tests, constant training. They weren't people anymore, not really. They were tools, weapons HYDRA was honing for a single purpose.

But that purpose aligned with theirs. Revenge.

"Same here," Wanda murmured, hesitating for a moment as she thought about the strange feeling growing inside her. She hadn't told anyone yet. Would Pietro even believe her? Still, she had to say something.

"Something happened to me," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "During the last test."

Pietro's expression shifted from frustration to concern as he stepped closer, keeping his voice low. "What do you mean? What happened?"

"I felt something inside me. It's like... something is growing. Alive."

"Growing?" Pietro frowned, his eyes narrowing. "You mean the power they keep talking about? The thing that's supposed to make us stronger?"

"No, it's more than that. It's... I don't know how to explain it. It's not just power. It's alive, Pietro. I can feel it, but I don't understand it yet. Not fully."

Pietro stared at her, his face hardening as he processed her words. "Do you think HYDRA knows? Do they know what's happening to you?"

"I don't think so," Wanda said, shaking her head. "They think they control everything, but this? This is different."

Pietro's jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists. "Great. Another twist. As if we don't have enough to deal with already. HYDRA, Stark..." He spat the name out like poison. "What are we supposed to do, Wanda? Get stronger? Wait for them to give us the tools to fight?"

"Yes," Wanda said firmly, her eyes meeting his. "That's exactly what we do. We let HYDRA think they're in control. Let them push us, and make us stronger. Because the stronger we get, the closer we are to making Stark pay."

Pietro's expression softened slightly, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. Stark—the man who had destroyed everything, the one responsible for the bomb that killed their parents and ruined their lives. It was why they were here. Why did they let HYDRA experiment on them. Why do they endure the pain and the trials? They didn't want freedom. They wanted revenge.

"Do you really think we'll be able to take him down?" Pietro asked, his voice low and tense. "Stark has the world behind him. His tech, his army of machines—HYDRA may hate him, but they don't even know the half of what he's capable of."

Wanda's jaw tightened. "We don't have a choice, Pietro. He's the reason we're here. The reason our parents are dead. HYDRA is just a means to an end. We let them make us stronger, and when the time is right, we strike. We take Stark down. No matter what it takes."

Pietro rubbed his temples, shaking his head. "Alright, sestra," he muttered, using their native Sokovian word for sister. "I trust you. Just let me know if that thing inside you gets any stronger. Who knows what else HYDRA's messing with."

Wanda gave him a small nod. "I will."

Before they could say anything else, the door to the chamber hissed open. Dr. Volkov stepped in, flanked by two more guards. His calm, clinical demeanor made Wanda's skin crawl, but she kept her face neutral. They couldn't afford to show weakness.

"Maximoffs," Volkov greeted them coolly. "I trust you're ready for today's exercises?"

Wanda exchanged a glance with Pietro. The tests, the training—it was all part of HYDRA's grand design. But as far as she and Pietro were concerned, this was just preparation for the real battle. The battle would end with Tony Stark's downfall.

"As ready as ever, Doc," Pietro said dryly, rolling his neck as if loosening up. His sarcasm earned a thin, humorless smile from Volkov.

The game continued, but the Maximoffs knew exactly what they were playing for.

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