Multiversal Sin: Rise of the Primal Demon King

⚜️ Saga 0: The Ash Years

🗓️ Location: Abandoned Safehouse | Slovakia | Late Morning

📌 Featuring: Wanda Maximoff, Dante Sparda, Pietro Maximoff

🔮 Sin System Status: Live Sync — Emotional Anchor Ascension In Progress

🛡 Dante Designation: Legendary Devil Hunter (Recorded / Suppressed Label Access)

The basement chamber reeked of scorched wood and fractured energy.

Faint smoke curled from the burnt ends of chalk lines—sigils etched deep into stone fed by slow-burning candles and silence centuries-old. The ring that encircled the room pulsed softly with a low magnetic hum: six forbidden symbols rotating like gears that once locked time.

Chains draped across the corners like decorations, ceremonial more than practical—though their weight told a different story.

At the circle's center, sleeves rolled past the black runes on his forearms, stood Dante.

He didn't move much. He didn't need to.

His presence had already pulled the room toward calm.

Across from him, Wanda stood with fingers trembling, crimson energy ghosting around her palms—there, but chaotic, Coiled, unsure of who to trust. Just like her.

"I keep trying to shape it, but it keeps slipping," she snapped. "It's like holding fire with wet hands."

Dante tilted his weight slightly. Not agitated. Just focused.

"That's because you're still thinking about control," he said. "But chaos doesn't care how carefully you ask. And it sure as hell doesn't say please."

He moved with slow confidence—circling her like an old-school mentor from a battlefield monastery, steps deliberate, voice calm.

"You own this power, Wanda. You should talk, negotiate with it."

"Breathe deep. Let it know you're not afraid of what you already are."

▫▫▫

Upstairs—through a narrow heating shaft that never quite sealed—Pietro leaned silently against cold stone, eyes narrowed, breath fogging.

He shouldn't be here.

But he couldn't not be.

Every word stabbed like a prophecy aimed at a girl who used to hold onto his arm when their father yelled. That girl looked... gone.

"Negotiate?" Wanda muttered. "It's a scream in my skull."

"Then scream back louder," Dante said behind her shoulder—his voice low, even. Resolute.

He didn't touch her. But his closeness steadied her breathing anyway.

"Chaos doesn't ask permission," he continued. "Neither should you."

She inhaled sharply.

And the twitch in her fingers turned lethal.

▫▫▫

Red began to shape.

Twin spirals rolled outward from her palms—at first clumsy, then fluid. Chaos-magic arced through old air, trailing light like comet tails. The glyphs around them rippled, agitated—responding to the resonance of a soul that finally admitted its name.

Below her feet, microfractures spiderwebbed across the stone like a warning left in bedrock.

Dante's voice fell into near-reverence.

"There. That's not chaos."

"That's intent."

And Wanda's expression—once uncertain—cooled along the edges. Eyes sharp. No longer overwhelmed. Now... invested.

[Sin System Log — Active Link Detection]

Connected Entity: Wanda Maximoff

✦ Trait Developed: Adaptive Chaos Expression [Type A]

✦ Emotional Tether: Direct + Responsive

✦ Affinity Strength: Double Anchor Potential — High

Current Synchronization: 41.8%

Status: Chaos-Influenced Evolution Unlocked Upon Next Surge Event

▫▫▫

Outside the circle, Pietro leaned in too far—and nearly fell forward when one of the sigils sparked against the air vent. The scent of metal filled his nose.

He watched Wanda hold chaos like it was a violin.

And what terrified him… was how much like him she looked now.

Not just him.

The man across from her—bare arms inked in demonrun, coat hanging like ink-scrawled judge's robes, eyes that burned low.

Pietro swallowed.

She wasn't just holding red light.

She was holding a thread that led to something ancient.

And it looked back.

He backed away, whispering to himself.

"She's tethering herself to the guy with swords older than the Vatican. Hell no."

Because Wanda was no longer fragile.

Now she was drifting toward someone far older than war...

And far more terrifying when silent.

Who was this man?

The rumors already said his name in codes.

🜍 The Devil's Agent

🜍 Demon-Walker

🜍 In SHIELD files: The Legendary Devil Hunter

🜍 In underground warlocks circles: The Last Sin That Still Breathes

He hadn't claimed titles. But titles claimed him.

▫▫▫

Inside the room, Wanda let her arms drop slowly. The spell dissipated into fractured glitter, brushing the dust like falling ash.

She was smiling.

Not joyfully—not exactly.

It was a smile that knew too much.

"I wasn't made to survive this world," she whispered.

Dante stepped back with a half-smirk, silver hair brushing his jaw.

"No," he said.

"You were made to tilt it sideways."

Her shoulder rose and fell, exposed in sweat beneath her coat, but calm at last.

Somewhere in the echoes of empty halls, something old opened a metaphorical eye.

[Sin System — Emotional Vector Shift Captured]

Wanda Maximoff Integration at 41.8%

Anchor Status: Solidifying

Forecast: Next Surge Will Determine Loyalty Alignment

And beneath her skin, the chaos settled.

Ready now.

Waiting.

For what happened next.

_____