Eleven(Transmigation Marvel Universe)

Eleven stood at the edge of a long hallway deep within the Sanctum Sanctorum, her hands pressed against the cold stone walls. The faint hum of energy coursed through her fingertips, like whispers she couldn't quite understand. Strange had sent her here to "listen," but what she was supposed to hear remained a mystery.

Behind her, Wanda's footsteps echoed softly, her presence warm and steady.

"You're restless," Wanda said, leaning against the opposite wall. She wasn't asking; she already knew.

Eleven glanced over her shoulder. "This place… it doesn't feel real."

Wanda tilted her head slightly. "It's as real as you make it. Magic has a way of bending the rules. You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it," Eleven muttered, her voice tight. "I want to go back."

"To Hawkins?" Wanda asked gently. "To your friends?"

Eleven's shoulders stiffened. She didn't answer, but her silence spoke louder than words. Wanda took a step closer, lowering herself to Eleven's level.

"You know they're gone," Wanda said softly, not unkindly. "Even if you could go back, it wouldn't be the same."

Eleven turned away, her jaw tight. "You don't know that."

"I do," Wanda said, her voice thick with emotion. "I tried to bring my family back once. I broke the world trying. And even then… I couldn't keep them." Her gaze dropped for a moment, haunted by memories she rarely let surface. "You can't fix the past, Eleven. But you can protect the future."

Eleven's fists clenched. "And what if I don't want to? What if I just want to be normal?"

Wanda smiled faintly, a bittersweet expression. "Then you're asking the wrong people for help."

Before Eleven could respond, the air around them shifted. The temperature dropped suddenly, and the faint hum of energy turned into a sharp, grating buzz. Wanda's aura flared to life instinctively, a crimson shield forming around them.

"Strange," Wanda called out, her voice carrying through the halls. "We have company."

A golden portal shimmered into existence at the far end of the hallway, swirling with an unnatural energy that made Eleven's skin crawl. She recognized the color, the texture—it wasn't Strange's magic. It was Kang's.

The portal expanded, spilling shadowy figures into the hall. They were humanoid but wrong, their bodies twisted and flickering like static on an old television. Their eyes burned with the same faint blue glow that coursed through Eleven's veins.

Wanda stepped in front of Eleven, her hands blazing with red energy. "Stay behind me."

Eleven hesitated. The creatures weren't attacking—yet—but their presence filled her with a cold dread. She could feel their eyes on her, feel the weight of their attention, as though they were looking at her and through her all at once.

"Don't let them touch you," Strange's voice called out as he materialized at the other end of the hall, his hands already weaving spells. "They're temporal constructs—Kang's version of foot soldiers. If they make contact, they'll try to unravel you."

"Unravel me?" Eleven asked, her voice shaking despite herself.

"Pull you apart at the seams of reality," Strange clarified grimly. "So yes, stay back."

The first creature lunged, moving faster than Eleven could track. Wanda caught it mid-leap, her crimson energy snapping it backward into the wall. The impact sent cracks spidering through the stone, but the creature only flickered, reforming in an instant.

"They don't break easily," Wanda muttered.

"Then we don't let them rebuild," Strange said. A golden whip of energy lashed from his hands, slicing cleanly through another construct. It disintegrated into shimmering fragments, but even as Eleven watched, those fragments began to crawl toward one another, reforming piece by piece.

Eleven's power surged instinctively, her vision tunneling as adrenaline took over. She felt the familiar crackle of energy in her veins, the pressure building behind her eyes. Without thinking, she raised her hand and unleashed a blast of telekinetic force. The nearest creature shattered, its pieces scattering across the hall like ash.

For a moment, she felt relief. And then the fragments stopped moving.

The air grew heavier. The fragments she had destroyed began to coalesce, drawn not toward each other, but toward her. They circled her like orbiting debris, pulsing faintly with the same blue light that flickered through her power.

"What's happening?" Eleven gasped, backing away.

Strange's expression darkened. "They're not just constructs—they're pieces of him."

"Kang?" Wanda asked, her voice sharp.

Strange nodded. "His essence, distributed across the timeline. He's using her as a conduit."

Eleven's heart raced. The fragments were closing in, their energy latching onto hers like parasites. She could feel them burrowing into her, pulling at her power, her thoughts, her memories.

"No," she whispered, clutching her head. "No, get out—get out!"

Wanda moved to her side, her crimson aura flaring as she tried to sever the connection. "Eleven, focus. Push them out. They're feeding off your fear."

"I can't," Eleven choked. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, the fragments swirling faster now. Images flashed before her eyes—her mother screaming, Hopper's voice calling her name, the Upside Down reaching for her, pulling her back.

And then, beneath it all, she heard a voice. Low, calm, and cold.

"You can't fight what you are," Kang said, his presence pressing against her mind like a vice. "You were never meant to fight. You were meant to open the door."

"No," Eleven hissed, her voice trembling. "I'm not your weapon."

"You already are," Kang replied. "And every time you use your power, you make it easier for me to take what I need."

Eleven screamed, the sound ripping through the hall like a shockwave. Her power surged outward, and for a moment, the fragments froze, their light flickering. Wanda seized the opportunity, her crimson energy enveloping Eleven in a protective cocoon.

"Strange, now!" Wanda shouted.

Strange's sigils flared to life, forming a glowing ring around the remaining constructs. With a sharp twist of his hands, he collapsed the ring inward, crushing the constructs into a single point of light. The hallway fell silent, the oppressive weight lifting as the fragments vanished.

Eleven slumped against Wanda, her body trembling with exhaustion. Her nose was bleeding again, the crimson streaks staining her hospital gown. Wanda held her steady, her expression fierce but protective.

"It's getting worse," Wanda said, looking to Strange.

Strange nodded grimly. "He's accelerating his plan. The more she resists, the stronger his pull becomes."

"Then we need to move faster," Wanda said. She glanced down at Eleven, who was struggling to catch her breath. "She's not ready for this."

"She doesn't have a choice," Strange replied. His gaze softened slightly as he looked at Eleven. "None of us do."

Eleven opened her eyes, her vision blurry. "He won't stop, will he?"

Strange shook his head. "No. But neither will we."

Scene Break: Kang's Fortress

Kang stood before a massive console, its surface glowing with intricate patterns of light and energy. The constructs had failed, but their purpose had been served. Eleven's connection to the multiverse was growing stronger, and with it, her bond to him.

"She's close," Kang murmured, his voice carrying a faint note of satisfaction. "One more push, and she'll tear the door wide open."

Behind him, the dark-haired figure from before stepped forward. "And if she doesn't?"

Kang's lips curved into a faint smile. "Then we'll make her."