Multiversal Sin: Rise of the Primal Demon King

⚜️ Saga 0: The Ash Years

📍 Location: Abandoned Safehouse | Slovakia

🕯 Time: Winter 2006 – After midnight snow, pre-dawn fire

🎯 Cast: Dante Sparda, Wanda Maximoff, Jean Grey

🛡 Sin System Status: CRITICAL RITUAL CLASH | Bond Threshold Breach

The world outside was buried silent.

Snow fell like judgment—unhurried, suffocating the hills in white gravity that refused to melt. But inside the safehouse…

Magic thickened like blood refused to wash away.

The fire burned low. Scarlet undertone. Ritual warmth.

Dante sat quietly near the hearth, shirt off, chest scarred in spectral runes and ancient thread-marks — half-battlefield, half scripture.

His shoulders slumped, back against stone, a slow breath caught halfway between still here and gone too long ago.

Lately, silence hadn't felt sacred. It felt dense.

He wasn't running.

But the weight was becoming unreadable.

[Sin System: Emotional Saturation Detected]

thread_one = Wanda Maximoff: Dream-Root ≈ 69.7% → SurgeEvent +4.9

thread_two = Jean Grey: Soul-Invocation ≈ 43.7% → FlareEvent +2.1

❖ RITUAL PRESSURE: Critical Threshold Approaching

❖ CONFLICT CLASS: Tier 4 — Ceremonial Phase Entered

❖ SYSTEM WARNING: Anchor Stability | Fracture Probability: 32%

He heard her before her feet pressed the rug.

Wanda.

Barefoot.

Cloaked deep-red. Not for aesthetic. For rite.

Hair loose and wild around her like chaos finally unbound. She moved with reverence toward the fire—toward him—one hand clutching a small velvet pouch thick with alchemical stitchmarks.

She said nothing at first.

Kneeling across from him. Placing the ritual pouch between them like a soldier surrendering her weapon and soul.

"Dante…"

He didn't answer. Just looked.

Cold, crimson gaze quiet as tomb flame.

"I need to do this," she whispered. "Not because of her. Not yet. But because if you walk through a world that chews down gods and ghosts alike… I want to be sanctuary when you stop walking."

A beat.

No movement.

A breath.

He didn't retreat.

Her fingers boldly reached across the space, pressing gently over the scarred lines across his chest—shimmering symbols only she knew how to read since the first time she saw him dream in bloodlight.

[Ritual Attempt: Wanda Maximoff Initiating "First Anchor Thread"]

Consent Status: Pending...

System Field Opening: ⏳ Thread-Line: "Chaos Devotion"

Chance of Full Claim Bond: 38%

"You don't have to be mine forever," Wanda breathed, voice quivering. "Just let me give you the first thread. Please. Before she—"

The door split open like law breaking.

Not slammed.

Parted.

✦

Heat shoved the cold aside. Scarlet met gold.

Jean Grey.

She stepped through the doorway like fire learning restraint—coat flared in psychic heat, steps heavy like judgment, eyes lit like volcanoes under eclipse.

No wind.

No words wasted.

"You thought you'd thread yourself into him quietly?" Jean murmured. "That's not how this works."

Wanda rose slowly, not backing off. Not apologizing. Her hand still lingered over Dante's skin.

"I'm not stealing anything. I'm laying down truth."

Jean stepped in closer.

"What you're doing isn't truth. It's fear. Desperation to not come second."

"So what—" Wanda's voice snapped sharp, "—you think you're his answer? You bite scar into everyone in your path and call it hope?"

Jean reached out—not violently—to touch Dante's temple.

Just one psychic pulse.

One memory half-forced: her firepaths. The dreams they shared. The world they lost.

[PHOENIX RITUAL INITIATION ATTEMPT — Jean Grey]

Consent Status: ∆ Interfered

Temporal Layer Exposure: Delayed

Status: Fusion Interrupted mid-sequence

Wanda's hand flew up—a red static-snap slapped Jean's fingers aside, chaos snarling into Phoenix aura like rival gods muting religion through rage.

The air shook.

The light dimmed.

Their bond magic clashed mid-breath.

✦

[❖ SYSTEM EVENT: RITUAL COLLISION ❖]

Wanda Maximoff – +5.1 Sync Surge

Jean Grey – +2.1 Sync Surge

❖ Wanda → 74.6%

❖ Jean → 45.8%

System Note: First Thread Attempt ABORTED

Anchor Integrity = FRAYED

Stability Tier: UNHELD

Critical Heat Status: RISING

Dante stood.

And the fire stopped flickering.

A wave of shadow-red burst from his spine like someone broke open silence with a sledgehammer of focus.

Ruin Reaver rang from its sheath. Not drawn. Just present.

"You're making me the center of a war."

His voice wasn't angry.

It wasn't hurt.

It was final.

"If you do that—again—I won't choose."

It landed like judgment. Both women froze.

"Neither of you will have to fight," he said, stepping out of the circle, "because there'll be no one left to claim."

[Sin System Fail-Safe AUTOTRIGGERED]

Anchor Signal: EXTERNAL OVERRIDE

Dante Sparda Emotional Field = 89.1%

❖ Status: Withdrawal Command Initiated

Integration Drive = 36.8%

Emotional Residual: Burn Control / Grief Suppressed

He walked out.

Not fled.

Walked.

With the pace of a man who had once stood in Hell's highest throne room, turned it down, and shrugged on a red coat instead.

✦

Inside the room—

Magic hissed over cracked floor stones.

The powder in Wanda's pouch fizzled and crumbled under undone ritual heat.

Jean stood at the window. Frozen.

Neither spoke.

But one by one, they did whisper —

Not curses.

Not answers.

Just a truth none of them could stomach before.

"I'm not afraid of losing him."

"But I'm afraid I already did."

And beneath both:

"If I can't be the soul he chooses—

…then you don't get to be either."

—

[SIN SYSTEM: Emotional Core Conflict]

Wanda Maximoff = 74.6%

Jean Grey = 45.8%

Anchor (Dante) Stability = → 36.8%

Alignment Status: Unclaimed

❖ Rivalry Danger Class = Sustained

❖ Claiming Event Failed

Outside…

Snow fell in spirals thick with soft silence.

But inside…

The warmth was now war.

And the silence? It wept in firelight.

—