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The fires of war glowed in the distance, Yet Wanda lay shivering in the dark Sokovian night. Hiding under the kitchen table. Her body was the only barrier between her brother and the bomb. A device whose red light provided the sole illumination for the shell of a building that used to be her home. As the light flashed over the remains of the Maximoffs’ apartment, she could see the remains of her family life. Popcorn was scattered like confetti. Shredded remains of their coats from the rack were painfully out of reach. One of her father’s worn Italian loafers was clearly visible.
The explosion had made her and Pietro instant orphans, but at least they had each other. On her back, she could feel some warmth radiating from her twin, but she didn’t dare inch closer for fear she would disturb the debris and the second bomb would finally explode. Another flash of the red light showed Wanda’s reflection in the small TV set, which lay sideways on the floor, like her. Oh, how she wished it was still on! The television had long been a distraction from the horrors outside. Now life was inside out.
She listened to Pietro’s soft snoring behind her, not unlike the purrs from a sleeping kitten. What a relief it would be to sleep. But the damned bomb was not only flashing; a piercing beep accompanied each flash. Desperate for comfort, the girl willed herself to focus on Pietro’s sleep sounds, matching his breath.
As the ten-year-old’s taught muscles began to relax a little of their tension, she gazed up at the sky through a large opening where her ceiling used to be. She located the brightest star in the sky, and in a forlorn attempt at normalcy, she recited the poem her mother would say with her each night before bed. Wanda whispered:
“Star light, star bright,
first star I see tonight.
I wish I may, I wish I might,
have the wish I wish tonight.”
I wish I felt safe, she thought as her eyelids grew heavy before closing completely.
Wanda dreamt she was strolling down suburban streets with manicured lawns hemmed in by white picket fences. The smell of honeysuckle permeated the air. She stopped to smell one, noting that they were all white instead of their typical yellow hue. That’s when she noticed everything was black and white. The neighborhood was straight out of the sitcom her family was enjoying before the bomb struck. At the thought, the sky was filled with explosives, headed for the once peaceful neighborhood. She panicked and tore off blindly down the street ahead of the blast.
“Come on! We can hide in my fort,” shouted a boy with an unusual accent. He grabbed her hand, and they ran so fast that Wanda thought she felt her feet leaving the pavement.
The boy guided her into a wooden structure covered in vines. The fort was cramped, forcing the children to squeeze in close.
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” he said. His voice no longer sounded funny to her but soothing. Maybe she would be okay. The sounds of war grew fainter as the sun peeked in through the slats. She looked at the boy but could only make out his vibrant blue eyes and a stray tress of light blond hair that had slipped down, threatening to cover his right eye completely. His gaze radiated kindness as he gently held her hand. His presence sparked a feeling she’d rarely felt in her short life. Wanda was at peace.
“Wanda, wake up, wake up,” Pietro said, “They’re digging us out. It’s going to be okay.”
The next several years were spent squatting in bombed-out buildings abandoned after Stark’s weapons smashed into them. Wanda was a beautiful seventeen-year-old who provided the perfect distraction while Pietro picked men’s pockets on the streets of Novi Grad. Until the day, they chose the wrong target. A well-dressed man in a long camel-colored wool coat and fur hat strolled by. Pietro gave Wanda a slight nod. It was go time.
Wanda crossed the man’s path and pretended to stumble. The man quickly caught her in his arms. “Are you alright, Fraulein?”
Wanda batted her eyelashes at him. “Forgive me. It’s just that I have eaten much today.”
“You must take better care, Mein Liebling,” he said, tightening his grip on her.
“I will.” Wanda squirmed as she watched Pietro slip across the street. She struggled, unable to break loose from the older man’s surprisingly firm grasp.
“You didn’t let me finish. You must take better care when picking your targets,” the German said as he locked his left arm around her whipping out a pistol and holding it to her temple with his right.
Wanda gasped, which caused her brother to turn and look. “Let her go!” Pietro yelled.
The German said calmly, “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
Pietro held up the man’s wallet, his hand trembling,” Here, you can have it. Just let her go.”
“She clearly means more to you than the money means to me. So why would you put your Madchen at risk?”
“Ew! I’m not his lady. I’m his sister!” Wanda exclaimed.
“Pardon my assumption. Come, Boy. Give me the wallet. Why are you out here stealing anyway? What would your parents think?”
“We’re hungry. Why else,” Pietro huffed handing back the wallet as the man released Wanda.
“Thanks to Tony Stark, our parents are dead. They don’t think anything anymore,” Wanda said. Tony Stark’s name had become a curse to the twins.
“It appears we have a common enemy,” the German said with a grin, “Come with me.”
“Why should we?” Pietro asked
“Because I have what you need. Food, shelter, and a way to avenge your parent’s deaths.”
Baron von Strucker did indeed have food and shelter. But the tests he ran on the twins were exhausting and typically painful. Each one leading up to what his group, HYDRA, referred to as the “final test.”
The night she was to endure it, Wanda could stop pacing. No one had ever come back from the experiment. Not even Pietro, who went in earlier that day. Where were they taking everyone?
At the end of the long narrow test chamber, she saw a golden scepter with a gleaming blue gem on top. It reminded her of the one King Arthur might wield in the stories her mother had read to her. Wanda felt warm tendrils of energy drawing her closer. She was bathed in a golden light. At its center, the image of a powerful sorceress emerged. Wanda was awe-struck and terrified. It was too much. She wanted to run, but her feet were planted.
“Enchanting isn’t she?” asked the young British man who stood beside her. Though he had aged, his noble profile and unruly blond hair were unmistakable. It was the boy from her dream.
“You again! I’ve missed you! Are you here because I’m afraid?”
“Why are you afraid?”
Wanda wanted to turn to him and finally see him entirely, but her gaze was transfixed on the woman at the center of the glow. She motioned toward the image.
“Don’t be afraid of what you’re meant to become,” he said as he took her hand gently in his, and Wanda felt herself at peace once again.
She awoke a few hours later in a cell. An episode of the Brady Bunch played on the TV. As it ended, she gathered the strength to walk across the room to turn off the set. On her way back to her cot, she walked into a beam of moonlight and turned toward the window. As she looked out on the vast field of stars, she found the brightest one and thought of the young blond man who brought order to her chaos. As she pictured his stunning profile and tried to remember what it felt like when he held her hand, she whispered her mother’s rhyme, “Star light, star bright….”
After that night, Strucker constantly pushed the twins to further develop the powers they’d acquired during the final test. As the sole survivors of the final test, much was riding on them and their new abilities to beat Stark. Pietro had developed super speed. He was faster than he’d ever been as a pickpocket. He was so quick that he was almost imperceptible.
Wanda’s powers were not as easily defined. She could read other people’s minds, yet the mysterious boy was constantly on her mind. She could move objects with her mind, but she couldn’t bring him to her side. She could give others nightmares, but she was never able to pull him back into her dreams.
For over a year, she honed her powers, waiting for the opportunity to unleash her powers on Stark. Until one day, he came to her when the Avengers attacked the compound. As the invaders moved through the base, HYDRA’s agents either fled or perished. Pietro distracted the team outside while Wanda crept carefully through the compound. She heard a strange electronic sound and wheeled around in time to see Stark emerge from a red and gold metallic suit. The man strode over to the monitors and asked someone named Jarvis to download the files from HYDRA’s mainframe. She was within striking distance of him at last. Wanda used her powers to force Tony to live his worst nightmare, if only for a moment. Pietro wanted him dead, but Wanda reassured him that what she had set in motion would be far worse. She allowed Stark to flee with the scepter.
Soon after, a robot named Ultron came to the twins recruiting them to help him defeat Stark and secure an object from the Avengers called “the cradle.” The team was incredibly powerful, and the cradle was theirs again in no time.
“I will be beautiful, my dear, and you will take your place alongside me,” Ultron said. Before she could reply, Wanda realized he hadn’t said it, only thought it. As he transferred his conscience to the body within the cradle, she could finally read his thoughts. The next thought was horrifying. Ultron wasn’t going to stop at eliminating the Avengers. He planned to annihilate the entire human race!
She and Pietro suddenly found themselves in a place they’d never expected to be fighting alongside the man they sought to destroy. The cradle was rescued and after an intense argument over its contents. It was revealed that Tony and Dr. Banner had uploaded an AI called JARVIS into the being. A discussion ensued between the Avengers when suddenly, a blond Viking with a hammer rushed in using lightning to activate the body inside.
A perfectly sculpted man with crimson skin emerged. The stone that once resided in the scepter now emitted a golden glow from his forehead. He looked at her, and in her mind, he said, “There you are.”
He seemed so familiar, too familiar. Wanda panicked. Was this creature Ultron in the flesh? Well...flesh and Vibranium.
“I looked in your head and saw annihilation,” she said accusingly.
The man turned to her and replied calmly, “Look again.”
Scared of what she would find, she declined to do so. Instead, the Avengers pelted the crimson man with questions that halted abruptly when he lifted Thor’s hammer and casually handed it to him.
“Only the pure of heart can lift Mjolnir,” she heard from inside Thor’s mind. This was not Ultron but a new ally in stopping his plan. They returned to her home to fight for it in the way that HYDRA has always claimed they would but never had.
As the battle raged on, pain ripped through Wanda, threatening to tear her apart. In her mind, she could see Pietro being gunned down by one of Ultron’s clones while valiantly protecting Hawkeye and a small boy. Then, something broke inside her as she felt her last living relative depart this life.
She fought fiercely with abandon, sure that she would defeat Ultron and fall with her homeland after finally defending it.
There was great satisfaction as she ripped Ultron’s metal heart from his chest, but it wasn’t near enough to satisfy her grief. Her only comfort was that soon she’d be reunited with those she’d lost. Then, as the city fell, she hit her head and suddenly saw the blond boy from her childhood dreams. Now a grown man, she saw him full-on for the first time as he scooped her into his arms. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
They were flying. Wanda rested her head on his chest, admiring the way his skin and blond hair seemed to glow from within.
“It all makes sense now. He’s my guardian angel. Finally, come for me. I’ll soon be at peace.”
It was then that she felt herself set gently down in the transport vehicle. Opening her eyes, she saw that Vision stood in place of her angel. Her mind had betrayed her. There would be no peace for her.
Wanda honored her brother’s sacrifice by fighting alongside the Avengers. Her new home in the compound had a soft bed and a hot shower. It felt safe. As she grieved Pietro, her teammates were kind and patient, particularly Vision. He was a brand new being filled with wonder and hope, yet he offered surprising insight. The two soon became close friends.
However, it was gone in a heartbeat. She’d made a terrible mistake on a mission that had caused innocent people to perish—prompting the UN to require regulations on all enhanced individuals. Whether or not to sign the Sokovia Accords split the team down the middle with her and Vision on opposing sides. The two factions fought, and when all was said and done, Wanda and several others who refused to sign were imprisoned.
Before long, Steve, aka Captain America, staged a prison break. Wanda was free but on the run. She was constantly moving from one place to another as she’d done in Sokovia. As she silently packed her things to leave Prague in the middle of the night, she thought of her mother. The stars were radiant as she began to navigate the countryside, and for a minute, she contemplated the old rhyme. “Star light,” she whispered, then stopped. Wishes required hope. Wanda had none.
“Wanda, over here,” Natasha hissed,“ We’re splitting up for a bit. It’ll make it harder for them to find us. Don’t worry. Everything you need is in this envelope. Relax and lay low until Steve contacts you. Take care, kiddo,” the redheaded spy said as she patted Wanda’s shoulder.
The next night, Wanda memorized the directions to the safe house as the train pulled into Edinburgh. The safe house was a second-floor flat on the west side of town. Their contact would meet her there.
Outside the station, the crisp evening air revived her from the hours spent dozing on the trip. It felt good to stretch her legs. She decided to walk. As she did, she pulled her scarf over her mouth and lowered the brim of her hat. After months on the run, it had become second nature to carefully note her surroundings and ensure she wasn’t being followed.
All alone, the walk seemed longer. Wanda closed her eyes for a moment and pictured Vision walking alongside her, back when they’d explored the grounds of the compound. The last walk they’d taken together was at sunset.
“Oh look,” Wanda had exclaimed, “It’s out.”
“What is?” he’d asked, matching her excitement.
“The Wishing Star,” she pointed at a bright pinpoint of light on the purple edge of the sunset.
“That’s a planet. It’s Venus,” Vision explained.
“Oh, my mom taught Pietro and me to make wishes on it. So, we’d say this rhyme and… never mind. It’s silly. It’s not even a star,” Wanda turned away and walked toward the compound.
“No. Please teach me.” Vision said as he gently touched her arm.
Wanda turned reluctantly to face the star. After she taught him the little rhyme, he asked what to do next.
“You make a wish.”
“How?” Vision asked, his brow furrowed.
“Think hard about the thing you want most.”
“I- I want -”
“No, Vizh! You can’t say it out loud. Otherwise, it won’t come true,” she said.
Vision chuckled at this,” Oh, okay. Then, I’m done.”
“I hope it comes true,” Wanda said, squeezing his arm.
The sky in Edinburgh looks similar to the one in her memory. Wanda spots Venus. It can’t hurt to try, she decides. This time, as the rhyme ends, she wishes not for herself but for Vision to be safe and happy wherever he may be.
She ascends the steps of an intricately carved sandstone building and presses the button for flat #23. The light on the security camera blinds her momentarily as the occupant wordlessly buzzes her into the building.
She reaches #23 and enters the code to unlock the door. The flat is sparsely yet tastefully furnished. Wanda steps cautiously into the entryway, knowing that there’s always the potential for a safe house to be compromised. In the living room, there are floor-to-ceiling windows with gauzy white curtains. A man stands at one of the windows.
“Hello?” Wanda says, uncertain if he’s her contact.
The man turns on the little lamp on the side table and smiles. Wanda gasps as she takes him in. Tall with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. It’s him! It’s the man of her dreams. The one who had helped her through her most challenging moments. The one she’d wished for every time she’d wished upon a star from the time she’d first dreamt of him as a child.
Wanda surreptitiously pinched her arm. The sting confirmed it. This was no dream. “It’s you!” she said, walking toward him, her legs weak.
“Wanda. Welcome home,” he said as he reached for her. His voice was unmistakable. Why hadn’t she realized it before?
“Vizh, it’s you!” she said as she embraced him. As she pulled back, she gazed into his eyes as he phased back into his crimson skin. Wanda stood on her tiptoes and pulled him into a kiss that he eagerly returned.
As they embraced again, Vision breathed against her neck, “You’re what I wished for, my darling.”
“Oh, Vizh! You’re my wish, too. It’s always been you.”