The Scarlet Witch

There are an infinity of universe almost indistinguishable from the one we know. The only changes are small things - one person has a different favourite colour, or another had a different breakfast one day. The biggest difference in some cases is the lack of one America Chavez.

In one such universe, Wanda plots and plans, meditating over the Darkhold and absorbing forbidden spell after forbidden spell. With no specific dreams as a guide, she found herself reading the prophecies on the Scarlet Witch - the being who could rule or destroy the universe. On that path, she found her attention grabbed by a lengthy enchantment dedicated to attuning the caster with the primal forces that thrummed beneath the skin of the multiverse.

There was no grand ploy here, no master plan. It was just about power: power enough to do whatever she wanted. She could already reshape reality to a limited degree. When this was done, she'd be able to control it completely, if she could finish the ritual anyway. It was, supposedly, one that could only be performed at the 'birthplace of the Darkhold.'

So some small tricks entered into the fray. She didn't know where that site was, but she knew people that did.

It started with what could best be called a haunting. First, Wanda sent spectres to Kamar-Taj, wraiths and demons and all manner of monstrous shapes. On each were etched runes marking them as constructs of witchcraft.

She, of course, feigned surprise when Dr Strange came to her quiet cottage.

“I’m not here to talk about Westview,” he said. “There’s… something with designs on this world, that I think you’re best-suited to help us fight.”

As a former Avenger, she naturally agreed to help. A day later and she was on what felt like the other side of the world, filled with with sorcerers and magical beasts. When her next demon launched itself at the fortified city, she proved her worth - she pinned it down with crimson magic, and held it there for the sorcerers to slay.

And then she went to Strange and Wong.

“I saw something,” she said. “When I held it, I looked into its mind.”

“Careful,” Wong said. “Creatures like that tend to have nasty traps for the unwary.”

“I sensed some,” Wanda said. “I didn’t see much, but there was something at the top of its mind. Something about a Scarlet Witch?”

She said it with faux-obliviousness, and tried not to smile at the sudden look of horror on Wong’s face.

She sat through Wong’s lecture to Kamar-Taj and tried not to raise her hand to correct mistakes. The Scarlet Witch, a being of phenomenal magical power, apparently with designs on Kamar-Taj. First, creatures had been sent. Then, more dangerous monsters still. Then, one night, Wanda corroded some of the safeties on the portals, leaving a howling doorway into oblivion screeching for the better part of an hour until the sorcerers got it under control.

They were scared - and like most scared things, they were easy to manipulate.

“This Scarlet Witch,” Wanda said. “What would she want?”

“Power. Destruction. Control,” Strange said. “Nothing good.”

“Just in the abstract?” Wanda said. “Would she want to do anything in particular? Get something from this place, or go somewhere?”

“She wouldn’t want anything here,” Wong said slowly. His eyes widened. “But there is a place she might want to go. With me.”

He opened a gateway with his sling ring, and Wanda tried not to let her impatience show.

Mount Wundagore was in a howling blizzard. They could see the silhouetted, unholy temple in the distance, and Wanda fancied she could almost feel the hum in the air of incredible potential.

She lifted them up, at Strange’s request, her telekinesis carrying them the rest of the way there.

And so she, at last, set foot in the temple that was her birthright.

When should she reveal herself, she wondered? Was it too late for them to stop her? She wanted it to be, wanted to end all the lies and embrace the ritual that would bring her all she could ever want.

The Darkhold spoke of an altar. She was to sit upon it, and the dark majesty of this place would let her attune herself to the most primal forces of reality. Magic, to her, seemed to be instinctive. When she was in the right place, she’d know what to do.

Something shifted in the shadows. Wong and Strange moved in front of her - hulking monsters emerged from behind the pillars, demonic faces looking down at them.

“Sentinels,” Wong said, manifesting a blade from gleaming orange light. “Wanda, hold them steady.”

Three behemoths stepped closer. Strange raised a shield warily in front of them, and the two watched in disbelief as the demonic guards of the temple knelt before them.

Well, that was her cue. Wanda smiled, and stepped forwards, shedding her conventional, illusory garb and letting the outfit of the Scarlet Witch wrap itself around her. Dark red, and a black crown, sinister and eerie and undeniably powerful.

“Wanda-” Strange began.

She moved past him, and the sentinels responded to her silent wish. They placed themselves between her and the sorcerers: she heard the vague sound of a tussle, but paid little attention to it. The guardians of a site like this wouldn’t be so easily tossed aside.

The altar lay before her. Beyond it, an ancient stone statue of a figure in a headdress with long, flowing hair, set into a wall adorned with eldritch incantations. Wanda smiled.

She levitated herself up onto the pedestal, and sat down. The runes in the wall hummed - when she conjured the Darkhold, she felt it react to the temple, and felt countless more magicks offer themselves to her.

She chose power. She’d lost everything else.

Wong and Strange could only stare in disbelief as everything they sought to prevent came to pass. Wanda let the spell carry her higher and higher, feeling the seething chaos that lay under all things whisper to her, red energy pouring out the cracks in the air and filling her, empowering her. The Scarlet Witch would have the power to rule a universe, if not all universes, and the slightest thought would be fact: she could bring back people she'd lost, she could call forth people that never existed. She could create a Hex that stretched from here to the edges of reality and beyond. She-

A chill breeze swept through the room. Slowly, as the spell passed its zenith, Wanda ceased levitating. She opened her eyes, feeling the cold but feeling warmth enough to keep it at bay. The Scarlet Witch, at the peak of her power, descended until she was sat upon the cold stone altar. A rather undignified squeak escaped her lips at the feel of sudden cold pressed against her butt.

Wanda looked down. And rather than the tasteful, if ominous, red of the witch costume, she saw, well, nothing. An involuntary blush reached her cheeks, and she shuffled back off the altar, mentally summoning the uniform. When that failed, she tried to cast an illusion. When that failed, she used her newly enhanced abilities to reshape reality.

Strength unknown for eons made the natural laws of the world wail and shriek, and stand up as well as paper did before a hurricane. Energy could be made from nothing, the temple that stood all around her could be wiped away and remade in a heartbeat, all the power she sought was here, was inside her.

But when she tried to re-conjure her clothing, there was nothing. If she tried, she could effortlessly whip up a floating dress in front of her, but as soon as she tried to wear it...

Nothing. Just bare skin, breasts she hid behind both arms, a patch of brown hair between her legs that she tried to hide behind the altar, and a remarkably vivid blush for a newly minted god-like witch.

"She's done it," Wong said gravely.

"What?" Wanda squeaked.

"Oh come on, you have to know all those stories about witches working 'skyclad,'" Strange said. "Deepened connection with nature, etc. Of course when you deepen your connection, it would have side effects."

Wanda blinked. Wait, side effects? All the power in the universe, power enough to bring back Billy and Tommy, Pietro, her parents, or...

But not enough power to summon so much as a single stitch that she could wear? Her blush deepened. Fervently, she summoned the Darkhold, turning its pages by waving one shining and as her other stayed crossed across her chest, frantically trying to find the spell that had given her all this power, to understand why it had resulted in this, of all things.

"I guess she's not called the Scarlet Witch for nothing," Wong said. Wanda stayed bright red.

"Word of advice," Strange said. "The warnings typically come after the spells."