Are you Real?

Rescue **

Your breath hitches in your throat as the assailant's cold hand clamps over your mouth, paralyzing you momentarily. Panic floods your system, heart thundering against your ribs as the figure's grip tightens, an oppressive weight anchoring you to the shadowed confines of the alley.

"Shh, don't make this harder than it needs to be," the figure whispers, their voice a sing-song of mockery that sends shivers down your spine. The hard press of what must be a weapon against your back punctuates their threat, silent yet unmistakably clear.

Frantic, you buck and twist, every muscle straining to break free. The assailant's voice drips with disdain, "Natasha really taught you well," they muse, as their hold adjusts with the ease of someone well-versed in restraint, countering your every desperate move.

Natasha's name ignites a wildfire of rage and determination in you. You refuse to be a silent victim; you are a survivor, a fighter. Summoning every ounce of strength, you jerk violently, trying to dislodge the oppressive figure. "Why are you doing this?" your muffled voice is thick with anger and confusion.

Their laughter chills you to the bone, a sound devoid of any real amusement. "You're the key," they hiss into your ear, breath heavy with madness. "The key to everything. You're how we break the Black Widow."

You groan in desperation, the assailant's words fueling a terrifying revelation. The mention of a grander scheme in which you are central intensifies your struggle. Your attempts to call for help are stifled under their relentless grip, but the name 'Natasha' forms a silent plea in your mind, a desperate hope for rescue.

As your energy starts to wane, your attempts to free yourself grow more frantic, more primal. The figure's hand tightens, as if to quell your fighting spirit, but your thoughts scream for escape, for Natasha, for anyone to save you from this nightmare.

The alleyway's darkness pulses with your panic, every shadow seeming to close in tighter. Then, out of nowhere, the air shifts, charged with a raw, almost electric power. It's like the night itself is holding its breath, waiting.

She appears suddenly, as if born from the shadows—Wanda, her eyes glowing an intense red, casting a fierce, protective light. It's a simple, raw display of power, no grand gestures needed. Her presence alone sends shivers down your spine, the kind of awe that pricks your skin with goosebumps.

Seeing her, something inside you breaks free from the grip of fear. "Mom!" you cry out, the word muffled but heavy with desperation. It's a call that goes beyond the need for rescue; it's a plea for comfort, for safety.

That single, muffled cry hits Wanda like a physical blow. Her body tenses, every line of her figure sharpens, and the air around her crackles with her rising fury. The glowing red of her eyes intensifies, a clear sign that the protective mother in her has been fully awakened, fueled by the need to protect you from any threat. Wanda's already intense red eyes flare even brighter, if possible, mirroring the surge of protectiveness that her child's call awakens in her.

The figure holding you, sensing the shift, sneers with cruel amusement. "Calling for mommy, are we?" they taunt, their voice a venomous drawl that contrasts sharply with the sudden spike of energy in the air. Their mockery, intended to belittle, only serves to underscore the gravity of their mistake.

The figure's grip on your mouth tightens, and the weapon pressed against your back digs in deeper, sending a sharp pain through you. A muffled gasp escapes your lips, a sound of pain and desperation, as your eyes shut tightly against the distress.

Wanda's response to your evident distress is swift and fierce. Her eyes, already ablaze with a red glow, seem to ignite further, reflecting the surge of her protective instinct. "Touch her again, and you'll regret it," she hisses, her voice carrying a deadly promise. The air around her vibrates with the raw intensity of her power, ready to be unleashed on the one who dares to harm her daughter.