Chapter 1691: Bruce Wayne and the Prisoner of the Batcave (Part 2)

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The soft morning light filtered through the gap in the curtains, illuminating the room. Wanda, clad in a loose robe, paced restlessly by the window. Miss Witch moved from left to right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, arms crossed. Her long red hair cascaded over her shoulders, and when the sunlight touched her, she looked like a mermaid gliding through the sea.

"I’m confused right now, do you understand? As soon as I focus on my chaos power, I can suddenly see things from someone else's perspective. I've never felt anything like this before. It’s like my mind has been split in two."

"Wanda, Wanda!" JARVIS, sitting on the edge of the bed wearing only pajama bottoms, called out to her. When his attempts to break through her anxious pacing failed, he reached out and gently tugged on her arm.

"Oh, darling."

Wanda took JARVIS' hand in hers, brushing her long hair back with her other hand as she said, "I’m so worried, not just because this perspective is disorienting me, but more importantly—I swear I heard those terrifying whispers again. That aura... it’s just like what we felt in that dreadful space!"

Covering her eyes with her slender fingers, Wanda added, "It looks like one of my followers and his friends summoned those horrors intentionally, dragging Helen into it. If anything happens to her, Asgard will definitely hold Professor Charles accountable."

"Stop, Wanda. This isn’t your fault. You just happened to stumble upon this situation and went to investigate."

"But I could have stopped it from escalating!" Wanda, now sitting beside JARVIS, was still tense and anxious. "I should have kept a closer watch on Chthon’s activities. If I had, I would have known the moment he lent his chaos power to someone."

"But recently... I’ve been so busy." Wanda shook her head, sneaking a glance at JARVIS’ profile through her strands of hair.

Indeed, she had been preoccupied. After going through life-threatening experiences together and deepening their mutual understanding, the already solidified relationship between them had only grown more intense. In this honeymoon phase, their world seemed to revolve around each other. Wanda, a person who yearns for a stable life and believes that the meaning of life is to build a perfect, happy family, had found what she thought was true love. For that, she would forsake everything to protect it. She had been inseparable from JARVIS, dedicating all her time to this newfound love.

JARVIS placed his hand over Wanda’s fingers, bringing one of her hands to rest on his knee. Turning his head to look at Miss Witch, he said, "The reason you’re blaming yourself isn’t because someone got hurt due to your negligence. You don’t really care about Helen or Charles. Your anxiety isn’t driven by guilt."

Wanda stared at him in shock, anger slowly creeping into her beautiful eyes. Just as she was about to retort, JARVIS continued in his usual calm tone, "What truly makes you anxious is the disruption of your desired lifestyle. If Helen gets hurt, you’ll have to spend time explaining things to Asgard. If Professor Charles faces trouble from the Asgardians, you'll have to defend him and argue on his behalf."

"Deep down, you don’t want to do any of that. You think these social responsibilities are unnecessary and a waste of time. If the disaster you caused didn’t threaten to isolate you from society’s definition of happiness, you would rather not waste time apologizing to anyone."

Wanda stood there, stunned, her expression turning flustered. She abruptly got up from the bed, walked to the footboard, and turned her back on him, crossing her arms defensively. "No, JARVIS! You can’t... you can’t say that about me. Are you saying that... that..."

"Are you finding it hard to accept a rational analysis of yourself?"

"But you’re not my psychologist!"

"No, I’m not. But avoiding this won’t stop you from eventually seeing our trusted doctor. Sooner or later, you know you’ll have to."

"But... but no one told me to see a psychologist! Pietro and I don’t need that. We’re perfectly healthy!"

"That’s only in comparison to those who are truly unwell. As they start to heal, your differences will become more apparent. Do you really think the doctor will just ignore that?"

Wanda stood in silence, her tense posture and the aura around her revealing her inner turmoil. Clenching her lips tightly, she finally said, "I’m not a mental case! I’m not Erik or Lorna. I can control myself!"

"No one said you couldn’t, my dear. But perhaps your lack of empathy might stem from your bloodline."

"I inherited nothing from him!" Wanda nearly screamed. "I’m nothing like them! I’m normal! I can fit into society!"

"If my words made you feel like I was diagnosing you, I apologize for that."

Wanda spun around, her eyes glistening with tears as she looked at JARVIS. "You can’t just look at me clinically like they do, and assume that my past makes me a madwoman. I thought you wouldn’t do that!"

"I’m not doing that," JARVIS replied, his tone still calm. The steadiness in his voice was almost contagious, and Wanda took several deep breaths, her hands gripping the bedpost as she said, "So, what are you really trying to say? Does it really matter why I’m anxious?"

"If you understand that your anxiety doesn’t stem from hurting others, then you don’t need to be anxious. It means your life’s rhythm doesn’t need to be disrupted. We can handle things more effectively than just waiting for disasters to happen and then dealing with them begrudgingly."

Wanda stared blankly into JARVIS’ eyes. For the first time, she realized that his analysis wasn’t meant to criticize her.

"You... you don’t think I’m heartless, cold, like a monster?"

"I’m a robot," JARVIS said, turning slightly and resting his hands on his knees. He looked up at Wanda with that calm, almost detached demeanor. "If we’re comparing levels of heartlessness, I’d say I surpass you by several billion times."

"So..." Wanda took a deep breath, her hands unconsciously clutching the hem of her nightgown. She hesitated, licking her lips, unsure if she should continue. But under JARVIS' unwavering gaze, she finally relented.

"Alright, fine. I know we siblings are alike. That cursed bloodline from Erik left nothing good behind. We’re all too similar in one way—above all, we’re... selfish."

"I couldn't care less about what happens to this world. Nor do I particularly care about those friends I've treated kindly all this time. If they were to die because of me, I might feel a bit guilty...

"...Or maybe I wouldn’t. I’ve never truly mourned for anyone."

"My mind is so consumed with my vision of the future that I can’t afford to think of anyone else. Do you think that's heartless of me?"

“Once again, Miss,” JARVIS responded, placing his hand gently over Wanda’s, “you can't discuss the degree of heartlessness with a Robot. To me, even the coldest human mind resembles a honey jar overflowing with intricate connections.”

Wanda suddenly laughed. She withdrew her hand from under JARVIS’s, only to grasp it again, playfully saying, “Then your creator, Tony Stark, must be a honey swimming pool.”

“That's a bit modest, Miss. He’s more like the honey Pacific Ocean.”

Half an hour later, Stark stood in front of his office’s floor-to-ceiling windows, hands on his hips, looking at Wanda and JARVIS, who were holding hands. He sighed and asked:

“So, what you’re trying to tell me is, someone caused trouble, you two didn’t intervene in time, and now Helen might be in danger? And now you want me to deal with the fallout and all the social mess?”

Stark opened his mouth as if to say something else, then hesitated before continuing: “Putting aside whether your approach to solving this problem is justified, why would you think I can handle two extremely pissed-off women? Oh, make that three—let’s not forget Frigga.”

“The damage hasn't happened yet,” JARVIS stepped forward. “Wanda managed to establish a connection with a certain chaos power contractor and saw the situation on their side. So far, Helen Stark is safe, but the condition of her companions and the atmosphere of the space she's in made Wanda uneasy.”

“Another space...” Stark weighed the term, then remarked, “Alright, if I have to choose among three angry women to side with us, I’d still pick Lady Loki. At least she’s potentially just an angry person, not an angry woman.”

“I think he knows,” Wanda said. “Through the eyes of the contractor, I saw the scene, and he was watching from not far away.”

“Then he’s probably handling Frigga right now because Helen was supposed to visit Asgard to spend the weekend with her grandmother.”

Just as Stark finished speaking, a portal suddenly burst open in the corner of the office, and Loki, scepter in hand, rushed through, shouting, “Get to Nick’s office now! Helen has gone to another space—we have to pull her back before she causes any more trouble.”

About fifteen minutes later, inside S.H.I.E.L.D.’s conference room, Nick Fury, Natasha, and Coulson were gathered, sitting on one of the large sofas. On the opposite single sofa sat Loki, looking somewhat distracted, possibly using divine power to communicate with Thor.

In front of the room was a large projection screen, while Stark, JARVIS, and Wanda were fiddling with a device at the desk.

JARVIS carefully attached sensors to Wanda's forehead and reassured her, “We’re just sharing your internal vision. Nothing to worry about. Although using your Scarlet Power to project the images is an option, that might exhaust you.”

“Thanks, but that's not what I’m nervous about,” Wanda took a deep breath. “The situation in that space is... unsettling. Or rather, it's far too bizarre. You’ll all see soon enough.”

Just then, the door was knocked, and Professor X and Magneto entered together, with Polaris (Lorna) and Quicksilver (Pietro) following behind.

As Professor X wheeled himself in, he looked at Wanda with concern. “Are you alright, Wanda? We heard that you made contact with someone from another space. Erik and I were worried about you.”

Wanda, however, seemed a bit awkward. She fiddled with the hem of her clothes and said, “I might have messed things up, I...”

“While we’re certainly worried about Helen, that doesn’t mean we’re not concerned about you too, Wanda. Are you sure you're okay?”

Wanda nodded on the surface but couldn’t help feeling despair in her heart. Why did everyone she knew have to be so emotionally perceptive?

At that moment, she stole a quick glance at Erik and felt a little relieved. At least, she wasn't at the very bottom of the empathy scale.

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Chapter 1692: Prisoner of the Batcave (Part 3)