Multiversal Sin: Rise of the Primal Demon King

⚜️ Saga 0: The Ash Years

🗓️ Location: Outskirts of Eastern Europe | 2006 | Nightfall

📌 Featuring: Dante, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff

🔮 Sin System Level: Early Anchor Detection – Wanda Maximoff

🎖️ Legendary Devil Hunter Status: Confirmed

The funeral wind tore through the ruins of a once-sacred cathedral, its sighs like a mourning hymn for what had long been abandoned and broken. Frost-thick air pressed into every crack, tangling with the bitter sting of disrupted magic—reality unraveled at its edges, stitched back together with chaos and grief.

Inside the splintered nave of that forgotten church, Wanda Maximoff stood trembling.

Her fists clenched against her sides—not to harness power, but to hold herself together. Wild red magic spiraled and flared from her body in ragged arcs, screaming wordlessly into the void. Stone cracked, Candles blew out. Runic wards seared against shattered glass panels above her.

Her breath came in gasps. Her mind in fragments.

"This isn't me—this isn't—" she choked, dizzy from the pressure. "I didn't mean to—"

But the magic didn't care.

It coursed through her like a tempest without aim. A weapon reacting to a child's wounded heart. Spacetime stuttered at the edges of her skin. Pietro darted around her, a blur of frantic silver, calling her name again and again like a fading prayer against the wail of inevitability.

"Wanda! You have to breathe—soldiers are coming!"

She sobbed. She couldn't.

And then the world shifted, heat folding inward—

And he dropped through the atmosphere like judgment cloaked in shadow.

Dante landed from above in a slow, vertical descent—coat snapping like a fallen black banner, dust curling beneath his boots. No entrance spell. No sound.

Just cold certainty.

The moment he touched the ruined floor, something in reality corrected itself. The red magic jolted. The cathedral fell silent for one suspended breath.

He looked at her.

And everything stopped.

His eyes—twin scars of molten crimson, normally unreadable—narrowed slightly. Not in judgment, but recognition. There was no panic in his expression. Just awareness. That quiet, unmoved leonine calm he always wore, as if nothing ever truly surprised him anymore, even a young woman actively unraveling physics with every step.

Wanda fell to her knees before she shattered the city. Dante didn't hesitate, he strode through the storm, untouched.

A magical shockwave launched outward from her panic—but Dante walked through it like smoke. The moment it touched his coat, it dissolved into red embers. There was no mark. He Felt nothing.

His blood refused to yield to lesser chaos. His stride said everything his silence didn't.

[Sin System Detected Anchor Surge: Type I — Chaosborn Link]

Wanda Maximoff / Age 16 / Magic Classification: Wild Hex / Mutant Signature Supplemented

Enabled Thread Potential — Emotional Condition: Vulnerability / Resonance / Instinctive Affection

When he reached her, her chaos crackled against his skin like static lightning—shorting, buckling, then ceasing entirely. A storm returned to stillness.

With calm hands and practiced calm, he crouched and placed his palm to her shoulder.

The reaction was immediate. Wanda fell still.

The world obeyed him.

"You're safe," he said without flourish. "You're not broken. Just bent. And we can reforge what bends."

Her tears stilled. Her breath stammered into rhythm.

He hadn't raised a voice, he hadn't drawn a blade.

That's who he was.

The Legendary Devil Hunter didn't need force to be feared.

He didn't need magic to subdue magic.

Sometimes, just showing up was enough to unmake doom.

Behind them, Pietro's voice faltered. A quicksilver warning. "There's a—soldiers incoming. They're geared with Guns, Scanner rigs—magic-grade rounds."

"I saw them," Dante muttered, brushing dust from his sleeve like it was an afterthought. "They're not a problem."

Outside, mercenaries screamed as something hell-flared tore through the outer corridor.

No bullets fired.

No orders hit radios.

Just the sound metal makes when it dies inside itself.

[Sin System Update: Alignment Boost Triggered via Casual Restraint]

Result: Wanda's stress load neutralized via proximity anchoring

Passive Devil Aura: Subduing Class I chaos energy

Emotional Anchor Evaluation – ACCEPTED

Current Integration: 21.1%

Wanda blinked blearily through tears—half-lost in the present, half-slipping between moments.

And that's when it happened:

▫▫▫ 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 ▫▫▫

The warbled magic in her pain pulled her under.

The dreamspace wasn't conjured. It was remembered.

She stepped barefoot through soft, warm rooms—washed in late afternoon sun, fragrant with cinnamon baking and hearthlight.

Laughter echoed: not hers, but a future version of it.

A little girl kneaded dough at an old counter through a halo of rust-red curls. A toy plane buzzed overhead, guided by a boy's giggle.

In the background stood Dante—no weapons, no armor. Just a soft grey sweater and that faint wariness behind the eyes of a man too used to loss.

He crossed the space. Pulled her into his arms.

Pressed forehead to temple and whispered, "I'll always protect you. No matter what universe."

She clung tighter. A dream that felt earned.

"Mama... Papa!" the children called from the table.

A candle flickered on the windowsill—red wax, golden flame.

Wanda let herself believe, just for a heartbeat longer.

Let herself hope this warmth was allowed to last.

But warmth never outruns entropy. Reality unraveled softly, the dream disintegrating back into breath—

▫▫▫

Wanda awoke against Dante's chest. Alive but felt Whole.

She didn't move. She didn't speak.

The memory, the future-that-mightbe, throbbed like a soft bruise behind her ribs.

Her palm found his chest, just over his heartbeat—no danger there. Just heavy stillness, like a cathedral had chosen to rest in a human shape.

"I remember you," she said with fire-quiet certainty. "Not this life. Some other one. Some other... us."

[Sin System Thread Binding Update]

Emotional Bond Status: Wanda Maximoff

🔗 Status: Primary Anchor Candidate

Thread Condition: Engaging / Long-Term Affinity Lock

Chaos Elemental Bond Confirmed

Current Integration: 21.1%

Sin Assignment: "Mother of Chaos"

Subroutine: Obsession Initiated

A crimson thread spiraled gently from her chest, visible only to her—and maybe to fate itself.

It coiled once, twice And then disappeared beneath Dante's coat line, where the Sin System's glyph glimmered faintly near his collarbone—pulsing.

Their souls had touched.

He hadn't seen it.

Not yet.

But she had.

And that was enough.

Wanda rose slowly, fingers never letting go of his sleeve. Her heart beat in rhythm again—not because the danger passed, but because he stood beside her now.

She would not lose this feeling. Not again.

As Dante turned toward Pietro, leading Wanda quietly behind him, her gaze lingered on the crimson candle still brimming behind her mind's eye.

A possible life.

A soul-level promise, now etched somewhere deeper than magic.

She would be his.

Not as a trophy.

As something eternal—written in stormlight, remade through fire.

_____