The moment Thanos declared that Earth's affairs would be handled by Wanda, the Fantastic Four and the assembled officials nearly burst with relief.
To them, this was the best possible outcome.
After all, Wanda was human. Born on Earth. Raised here. Bled here.
Surely she would show… understanding.
Some American officials even exchanged subtle glances. In their minds, things were already improving. One of their own now held influence beside a cosmic tyrant. That had to count for something.
They noticed the strange glint in Wanda's eyes as she looked toward them—bright, almost eager—but interpreted it as enthusiasm.
Optimism is a powerful filter.
Wanda, of course, had no idea what calculations were unfolding behind those diplomatic smiles.
She suddenly remembered something and turned to Thanos.
"Father," she asked softly, "those who resisted have been killed… but what about those who submitted?"
Thanos didn't hesitate.
"You don't need to worry about that. Deep Blue will handle it."
His tone was absolute.
As a ruler of hundreds of thousands of worlds, his empire did not function on improvisation. There were systems. Protocols. Data models refined over centuries. Deep Blue oversaw compliance, allocation, restructuring—efficient and nearly flawless.
If the universe were a machine, Deep Blue was its operating system.
Seeing no further objections, Thanos clenched his left hand.
He vanished.
When he reappeared, it was before a blazing star.
Without ceremony, he plunged straight into it.
The energy he had absorbed from the Phoenix Force inheritor still churned within him. It needed refining, stabilizing.
Balancing the universe was his mission.
Becoming stronger?
That was his hobby.
—
Back on Earth.
The instant Thanos disappeared, Loki stretched lazily and grinned.
"Well then," he murmured, already drifting away. "Time to see what Midgard has to offer."
He had endured frost giants and war. He deserved entertainment.
Ignoring him, Wanda turned her attention back to the officials.
Her voice was sweet—almost gentle.
"Do you have any questions about what Father said?"
As she spoke, her gaze settled deliberately on the American delegation.
They lit up internally.
There it is, they thought. Familiarity. Shared origin.
One young official—black suit, perfectly styled hair, and a confidence that bordered on delusion—rose to his feet. He flashed what he believed to be an irresistible smile.
"Miss Wanda," he said smoothly, "are you American?"
Wanda tilted her head slightly and gave a shy smile.
"There's no such thing as America anymore," she replied softly. "Everyone belongs to Father now."
The young man's confidence only grew.
That smile—he interpreted it as interest.
She probably hasn't experienced romance before, he thought smugly. If I win her over, influence follows. Influence becomes control.
Honestly, he almost felt grateful for the invasion.
Opportunity comes in strange packaging.
"Yes, of course," he continued eagerly. "We are all Lord Thanos's people now. If I may be so bold… do you have a boyfriend?"
Wanda's cheeks flushed.
She lowered her head, appearing flustered.
"Oh my… what kind of question is that?" she murmured shyly. "Let's stay focused. Do you have doubts about Father's decision?"
From the side, Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight exchanged a look.
Something felt… off.
They knew Thanos well. His decisions were immovable mountains. Wanda had been given authority—but the responsibility attached to that authority was equally heavy.
And right now, her expression suggested she was waiting for something.
The young official mistook everything.
Certain he had charmed her, he cleared his throat.
"My apologies, Miss Wanda. I was out of line. What I meant to ask is… could we have a few more days? Twenty-four hours is simply too short for full compliance."
Wanda nodded immediately.
"Hmm… twenty-four hours does seem a bit long."
She lifted her head and looked around at the other officials.
"Does anyone else think so?"
Her tone was gentle.
Encouraging.
Inviting agreement.
To the Americans, it sounded like support.
To Corvus Glaive, it sounded like a trap slowly snapping shut.
The moment Wanda agreed so easily, the atmosphere shifted.
The officials practically brightened.
Relief spread across their faces like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
"Yes, Miss Wanda, twenty-four hours is far too short!"
"We don't even have time to notify every country—how can we possibly coordinate a global surrender?"
"Please, just a little more time. We'll handle everything properly!"
They spoke over one another, voices urgent but hopeful. To them, she was different. Younger. Softer. Human.
Wanda stood there, nodding gently, a small polite smile resting on her lips. Every now and then she murmured, "I understand," or "That makes sense."
To the anxious officials, she seemed approachable. Almost kind.
Encouraged, more of them stepped forward.
Even the Human Torch from the Fantastic Four shifted his weight as if preparing to speak—but Mr. Fantastic quietly caught his arm.
"Don't," Reed muttered under his breath. "Something feels wrong."
He remembered Wanda as shy. Fragile. The kind of girl who struggled to meet someone's eyes for too long.
This version? Smiling calmly in front of cosmic warlords?
It didn't match.
The Human Torch hesitated, then slowly stepped back.
Meanwhile, Wanda tilted her head slightly, looking almost like a well-behaved daughter asking for approval.
"You've all made very reasonable points," she said softly. "Does anyone disagree?"
Her eyes were bright, expectant.
She looked so young in that moment—like someone who had just turned eighteen and was eager for praise from her elders. The kind of expression that instinctively lowers defenses.
More than twenty officials had gathered around her now—most of them young, ambitious, quick to speak.
The older officials, gray-haired and cautious, remained where they were. They had lived long enough to know that innocence can be the sharpest disguise.
When no one objected, Wanda's smile slowly faded.
Her gaze darkened.
Her voice dropped.
"Since you all oppose Father's decision… then you have no reason to exist."
Before the meaning fully registered—
Red light ignited.
Chaos energy burst from her hands, thick and violent. Her hair lifted as if caught in an unseen storm. The air warped around her as she rose slowly off the ground.
By the time the officials realized the trap, it was far too late.
Dark crimson power exploded outward, swallowing them whole.
"Ah—help!"
"No! Wait—!"
"Please, please spare me—!"
Their screams tore through the chamber.
One of the younger officials tried to run. He managed two stumbling steps before the chaotic energy wrapped around him like living flame and dragged him backward.
As his body dissolved piece by piece into scarlet particles, regret flooded his mind.
How could I have been fooled by that smile?
If there is another life… I'll remember this.
Never trust a girl who looks too harmless.
Within seconds, the chamber fell silent.
Where more than twenty people had stood, there was now only drifting red dust.
Wanda lowered herself gently back to the floor.
The storm vanished.
Her expression softened once more, as if nothing had happened. She smoothed her hair lightly and turned toward the remaining officials with a sweet, almost bashful smile.
"Does anyone," she asked gently, "have any further objections?"
.....
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