Pietro opened his mouth to argue but closed it, seeing the unwavering determination in his sister's eyes. He disappeared for a moment, then returned, holding a driver's license.
"Here," he tossed it onto Wanda's lap. "I swiped it at super speed."
Wanda held the license up to her eyes, reading the name aloud:
"Jonathan Blaze," she said with delight. "The name reeks of ancient magic."
She glanced at the date of birth and grinned widely.
"He was born on the same day as me. See? It's fate!"
Pietro crossed his arms, looking at her with concern.
"I ran to his house while you were sitting here. That guy is like a pretty chest filled with demons. You know what I found in his room? At the bottom of a box full of scout medals, there's a brass knuckle. And among his biology and chemistry textbooks, there's a history book on Nazi weaponry with a bookmark on the flamethrower section."
Wanda giggled, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Now I like him even more."
Pietro said nothing. He knew arguing was pointless. Wanda was enchanted by a psychopath.
"By the way, did you see a cat there?" she asked thoughtfully.
Pietro blinked in surprise at the question.
"Uh, yeah, I think I did. A black cat was sitting on the couch."
Wanda perked up.
"Catch it for me."
"What are you up to now?" Pietro groaned. "Why do you need a cat?"
"A true witch can learn everything about a family from cat," she explained matter-of-factly. "I want to uncover all of Johnny's secrets."
"I'm so done with your witchy nonsense." He shook his head. "Catch the cat yourself if you want it so bad."
"Fine, I'll handle it," she replied calmly, shifting her gaze back to Johnny.
He was just putting the mask and chain back into his sports bag. A streetlight illuminated his face, and Wanda noticed droplets of blood on it.
"He's magnificent," she whispered in awe.
The car pulled away, leaving behind the dark city and a new twist of fate.
---
On the horizon, the island of Genosha came into view. Massive and seemingly torn from the past, a gray stone castle towered majestically over the cliffs. Surrounded by lush greenery, it stood as a symbol of Magneto's unyielding power. Wanda and Pietro walked along the cobblestone path leading to the entrance. Neither met the other's gaze, but the tension in the air was palpable.
At the door, they were greeted by a worried maid. Her skin was a deep blue, and her glowing yellow eyes reflected unease. Bowing slightly, she quickly spoke:
"Miss Wanda, Master Pietro. Your father… he already knows. He's waiting for you in his study."
Wanda squinted but said nothing. She knew that arguing with her father was like playing chess—every mistake led to defeat.
Inside, the castle was just as grand as its exterior. Majestic halls with stained glass windows, portraits of renowned mutants lining the walls, chandeliers casting a warm golden glow. Wanda had always seen this place as both a home and a prison.
When they reached the study, the door was slightly ajar. Magneto sat at a chessboard, his expression focused. He was contemplating his next move in a correspondence game with Charles Xavier. Wanda knew this match had been ongoing for years.
"Come in," he said without looking up from the pieces.
The siblings entered, Pietro hesitating slightly, staying closer to his sister. Magneto finally lifted his gaze. His gray eyes carried the weight of the world.
"Charles informed me that you weren't at school today," he began, clasping his fingers together. "I'm curious—what could possibly be important enough to skip your studies?"
Wanda stepped forward, squaring her shoulders.
"All my exams are done. I'll get the missed notes from Jean. My absence was due to personal matters that don't concern you, Father."
Magneto studied his daughter carefully, as if trying to peer into her soul. Their eyes locked, and the air seemed to freeze. Then he exhaled slowly, and his expression softened.
"You're an adult, Wanda, and you must manage your own time," he said with deliberate seriousness. "If you've decided you can afford to skip, that's your choice."
He paused before adding:
"But are you planning to take a holiday for these… matters?"
"I've handled most of it already. In a couple of days, I'll need to return to New York, but it won't interfere with school," she replied calmly.
"You can copy notes, Wanda, but you cannot rewrite time. And time is power. Learn to manage it while you're young," Magneto said in his philosophical tone, one that often preceded his speeches about mutant nations. "You may go."
He stood and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"My little princess," he said warmly.
Wanda felt her face tighten. She hated that nickname but stayed silent to avoid shattering the moment. Instead, she simply nodded and left the study.
Pietro was about to slip away, but Magneto stopped him.
"And where do you think you're going?"
"What? If Wanda's not in trouble, then neither am I!" Pietro protested, stepping back defensively.
Magneto's gray brows furrowed, and the strictness of old returned to his face.
"You, Pietro, could learn a thing or two from your sister. Her missed days lead to future triumphs. Yours lead to video games. Therefore, you're grounded from gaming for a month."
"That's not fair!" Pietro exclaimed but immediately fell silent under his father's warning gaze.
When he left the study, Wanda was waiting for him by the stairs, arms crossed.
"Another month without games," he groaned. "Why is it that when you break the rules, you're a princess, but when I do, I'm a delinquent?"
"Didn't you claim seniority earlier today?" she smirked, referring to his twelve-second age advantage. "Get used to the younger ones being more loved."
"You… witch!" he snapped, though there was no anger in his voice.
"Thanks for the compliment," she replied, heading upstairs.
Her room was a curious mix: lace pillows harmonized with books on dark magic, and the walls were adorned with star-shaped decorations and crimson symbols. It reflected her inner world—girlish yet enigmatic.
Kicking off her shoes, she collapsed onto the bed, trying to process the events of the day. The image of Johnny surfaced in her mind. She barely noticed herself smile. But her eyes accidentally fell on the magical calendar on her desk.
Several dates were circled in red marker, marking significant events in her life:
"The day the skies darken, and fire cleanses the world."
"The day the Four Horsemen lead the new order."
Her gaze lingered on the final date, circled in red. It was her seventeenth birthday. Beneath it was a chilling note:
"The day I die."
Her smile faded. Wanda turned away, burying her face in the pillow, and quietly began to cry.
---
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