They tore my heart from my chest, without blood spilling—my very soul. An empire collapses, and I fall with it.
But...
My other half is nothing more than a decaying body, buried underground. The maggots tend to his remains, quietly, but surely.
He is nothing more.
Just a memory.
But...
His life stopped in 2015, when he proved what he truly was: a real superhero. Between the two of us, the one and only. I am an impostor, comparing myself to him. Barton is the witness, his body pierced by bullets proves it. My desires perfectly illustrate my egocentrism, I still don’t understand why I was given this title, one worthy of making children dream.
My screams, uncontrollable sobs, tears streaming down my cheeks. The lump in my throat, a dagger to the heart. The reddish energy, representative of my emotions, tearing through everything in its path, exploding Ultron's bodies without mercy. My despair coming to life, everything around me shattering and breaking. I see blurry, no longer aware of my actions. My world in ruins.
But...
The debris of the capital falling from the sky, my body ready to fall with the city. Comfort takes hold of me, we will be together again. A feeling of liberation spreading through my body, ready to join him. The ruin and destruction of a familiar setting, within the ruins I see a comforting scene. A suicidal Wanda.
But...
He came to me.
He caught me.
In the fall of Sokovia, among the rubble ready to meet the ground.
He will save me in every sense of the word.
..
Vision, my hero.
My soulmate.
The one who became my family.
The one who brought a source of light into the abyss.
If I had been ordinary, I know I would have never known him. I would be lying to myself if I thought we would have shared the same story. We would never have lived that love story; he would have remained a perfect stranger. Why would an Avenger have taken an interest in someone completely ordinary? The circumstances would never have brought us together, without that undesirable and repulsive magic. I would have continued to live in ignorance of what that would have meant: never knowing the love of my life. A constant emptiness would have lived within me, I would have never known my guardian angel. My heart would have never found the person to whom all my love would be entrusted.
I get chills just thinking about it—living without him? How could I survive without him? The question is still relevant.
The walls shrink. The time for a goodbye, a definitive one this time. Entering the house, it changes its decor.
This gaze.
The last traces of life that would return to his lifeless body, leaving only vibranium. White eyes, his body devoid of the vibrant colors that once inhabited it.
That gaze filled with love, coming to life once again through my powers.
Without knowing it, it was I who would take it away from him, who would have believed it?
A hand pushing back the energy emanating from the stones, the other destroying it. A gesture that will haunt me, one that I deeply regret, killing him a first time. The one I thought I was incapable of making. Those last words...
It’s alright.
You can’t never hurt me.
I just feel you.
I love you.
An explosion, and...
My body pinned to the ground, adrenaline preventing me from collapsing. My vision blurry beneath the hot tears, abundant, pouring and wetting my face, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Failing to understand that I was about to "save" billions of lives, the sound of footsteps approaching me. I lifted my head towards him, a lump forming in my throat, disgust immediately resurfacing.
You will never be able to.
What a mistake.
The titan caressing me, pretending to show "empathy," saying he understood my pain. The constant shivers, the tremors running through my whole body as his hand touched me. That same hand that once touched me, now becoming the new weapon of crime.
He rewound time, the nightmare repeated. Again.
I had just committed the unthinkable for nothing. The nightmare repeated, again.
The difference this time was that I saw life leave him, the gaping hole in his head, the color draining from him.
I had just lost everything, again.
All that was left was despair.
It was from this thought that death became a comfort, I had never been so relieved to see my body disintegrate. In death, we would reunite.
Of course not, what was I thinking? Of course I would come back and not him.
It was Thanos’ fault that he left.
It was mine once.
Again, it was mine.
...
He lost life.
He lost life again.
He will do it again, a third time.
...
That look an "inhuman" android could never cast.
I can't feel you.
I will find him in the form of a piece the first time, after my return. I know he will be exploited again, as if he were nothing more than cheap material. No one cares about the person he was. Vision was, and still is, more than a weapon, more than a machine, more than a robot. He was the one who pulled me out of the darkness, the one who became my family. He was my savior, my hero, pulling me from my despair.
Why does the world forget him, forgetting what he was? They see him as nothing more than a vulgar weapon, just that. A loss to Thanos, a futile sacrifice in their eyes, don’t they understand? He doesn’t even have a grave dedicated to him, just a simple, plain gravestone with his name. As much as when I came back from the dust, or now, he’s fallen into oblivion. I scream out in injustice, I shout my inner distress. No words can express what I feel, it’s like a nuclear bomb exploding from within, and it has multiplied when...
Thank you for choosing me as your mother...
I've done harm, I know that. It was not intentional, far from it. I deeply regret my actions in Westview, at least what I did to the residents. For a brief moment, I was able to rebuild my universe. A bandage slipped over the wound, calming the hemorrhage of my being. I had everything I wanted.
Vision
Pietro (even though he was an imposter)
My children.
My children...
Billy. Tommy.
I would burn everything for them. A mother should never bury her child, they say. Well, I’ve done it twice. My magic created them, it also destroyed them. What a plague inhabits me, a demon that follows me.
Would I do anything to get them back?
Of course.
If there were a way, yes, the question doesn’t even arise.
The looks they give me, to those to whom I have inflicted the same punishment as mine.
Innocents who have suffered hell because of me.
The disgust, the horror in their eyes towards me, I understand them.
Because this magic that lifts me into the air, making me move away from this peaceful town.
I feel the same way when I use it, when I see it.
It gave me everything I wanted, it took away everything I had.
A normal life.
What I will never have.
I need to be forgotten, by others and by myself. It’s like that, the wind carries me to New York. Might as well blend into the crowd and be forgotten...
On the contrary, a certain Peter Parker would do anything to make sure people remember him.
How ironic...
