Marvel : I'm in Westview Town

Whoosh!

Boom!

"Fuck!"

The thug in front barely registered the blur of movement before a powerful kick slammed into his abdomen. His pupils constricted as his brain barely caught up, attempting to twist away.

But he had underestimated the strength of the man before him.

Before he could react, the devastating force of the kick connected, slicing through the air with a terrifying whoosh before sending him flying into the alley wall.

Boom!

A thunderous impact echoed through the alley, followed by a scream of pure agony. The thug's body crashed against the bricks with a sickening crunch, sending cracks through the wall as chunks of debris rained down.

He collapsed onto the ground, clutching his stomach in pain. His chest heaved, his breath ragged, and from the way his torso caved slightly, it was clear—his ribs were shattered.

The other gang members felt the shockwave from the kick. The sheer power that had been unleashed in front of them sent a jolt of reality through their system.

They snapped out of their stupor, staring wide-eyed at their fallen companion, who now lay crumpled like a broken doll. Then, rage boiled over.

"Fuck! Are you out of your mind?!"

"What the hell was that?!"

"You trying to fucking kill him?!"

There was no hint of remorse in their voices. Instead, fury and arrogance fueled their outrage as they turned their glares toward the man before them.

At the entrance of the alley, a woman with flowing red hair and piercing eyes watched the scene unfold. Wanda Maximoff stood still, her expression unreadable, yet her heart pounded in her chest.

She had never seen him like this.

Finn had always been calm, patient—a beacon of warmth even in the darkest moments. Never once had she heard him curse, let alone seen him lose control like this.

And yet, this was the second time tonight that his anger had surfaced so violently.

A strange warmth settled in her chest at the thought.

She sighed, glancing toward the street outside before making a small, dismissive gesture with her fingers.

"Let him vent..."

The moment she spoke, the space around the alley shimmered. Reality twisted, bending at her will, creating a perfect illusion.

To anyone passing by, the alley was empty.

No one would see what was about to unfold.

No one would remember the men who had stood there moments ago.

Finn turned his head slightly, catching the flickering distortion of reality. His eyes met Wanda's, and he knew immediately what she had done.

She had sealed them in.

The Scarlet Witch simply shrugged, as if giving him permission.

A dark smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You're a wicked little witch..."

His voice was laced with something cold as he turned back to the remaining thugs, his once-gentle gaze now icy and unforgiving.

The thug on the ground shuddered, his body wracked with tremors. "Joel... k-kill him..."

A sneer twisted Joel's lips. "Fucking hell... this bastard must've forgotten whose turf this is."

He cracked his knuckles and lunged.

Reckless.

Stupid.

Finn caught the incoming fist with ease, gripping Joel's wrist with crushing force.

"Idiot."

With a sharp twist—

CRACK!

Joel's scream tore through the alley as his wrist snapped, bone piercing through flesh, bright red spilling into the cold air.

"Ahhh! My hand! My fucking hand!"

His knees buckled, collapsing onto the ground as he clutched his mutilated wrist. His eyes, wide with terror, locked onto Finn's. Pure, unfiltered fear consumed him.

A frigid chill raced up his spine.

The others hesitated, the metallic tang of blood filling their lungs. The haze of arrogance was gone, replaced by primal survival instincts.

"Shit..."

"All of us! Now!"

They charged.

Finn remained motionless, a cloud of inky darkness swirling in his palm. He flexed his fingers, allowing the raw energy to crackle between them.

"Good idea. Saves me the trouble."

Then, the black mist surged forward.

BOOM!

The impact sent all of them flying.

They hit the ground hard, limbs splaying at unnatural angles, coughing and choking on the thick darkness now lingering in the air.

"N-No... he's a necromancer?!"

Joel, still writhing from his broken hand, barely managed to spit out the words.

Finn stepped forward, his shadow looming over them like a reaper come to collect.

"Too late for that realization."

His fists descended like a relentless storm.

One.

Two.

Three.

Each strike sent bone cracking, blood splattering against the cold concrete. The gangsters barely had time to scream before they were reduced to broken, twitching bodies.

A painful silence settled over the alley.

Only the ragged gasps of the fallen men remained, mixed with the overwhelming scent of blood.

Finn exhaled, shaking the gore from his knuckles before stepping back, the sight before him sinking in.

He had lost control.

Again.

He had promised himself he would handle things differently. That he would fix things—change them for the better.

But all he had done was create a mess.

A soft hand grasped his own.

He blinked, his vision refocusing.

Wanda stood before him, her delicate fingers tracing over the bruised and bloodied skin of his knuckles.

"Finn... are your hands okay?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"It's not my blood."

But despite his words, discomfort settled in his chest. He pulled her close, his chin resting against her hair as he whispered, "Wanda, don't worry. I'll handle this."

"You've done enough."

She pressed closer, as if she could absorb the weight of his burdens. "Come on. Let's go home. The illusion won't last forever."

With a flick of her fingers, the air around them shimmered again, and they disappeared into the night.

Meanwhile, back in the alley, Joel groaned, dragging himself upright despite his broken body. He leaned against the cracked wall, wiping the blood from his lips.

"The bastard finally left..."

A twisted grin formed.

"Let's report his ass. I'll make sure he and his bitch regret—"

He froze.

The alley had grown darker.

Too dark.

His companions weren't moving.

"Kate?"

Then—

A hand shot from the shadows, gripping his throat.

"What the—?!"

Before he could react, he was yanked into the abyss.

The last thing he heard was the terrified screams of his remaining men as they, too, were swallowed by the darkness.

In a high-rise penthouse, Wanda pulled Finn onto the couch, carefully cleaning the wounds on his hands. He winced slightly as the antiseptic stung.

"Does it hurt?"

She frowned, examining his swollen knuckles.

Finn smirked. "Come on, Witch. You underestimate me. I'm not some delicate flower."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up. Your hands are a mess."

Her fingers brushed against his, gentle yet firm.

Finn's gaze wandered, landing on her lips. A smirk curled at the edges of his mouth.

"You know me best, don't you?"

Wanda's cheeks turned pink.

"Finn, you're such a pervert. Your hands are hurt like this, and you still have the nerve to think about things like that..."

Wanda lifted her head to meet his gaze, only to find the man staring intently at her lips. She rolled her eyes at him.

She had thought he was at least restraining himself somewhat, but clearly, this man refused to let go of any opportunity.

Realizing this, a blush crept up Wanda's face, and she scoffed, "You don't seriously mean to try every part of me, do you?"

"Witch, is that what you're thinking?"

Finn blinked in surprise before a smirk, sharp as a blade, appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Definitely not!" Wanda's blush deepened as she realized what she had just implied.

Seeing the unrestrained amusement in his expression, she dipped a cotton swab into the iodine and, without hesitation, pressed it against his wound with deliberate force, gritting her teeth. "And you better not be having such thoughts!"

"Hiss—absolutely not! I only do what makes you happy."

Finn raised his eyebrows, his voice laced with teasing as he took in the misty shyness in her eyes. But no matter what, he couldn't suppress the grin on his face.

A thought crossed his mind—physical happiness was happiness too...

"Then why are you still smiling?"

Wanda huffed, annoyed at the amused look on his face. In retaliation, she uncapped the iodine bottle and poured a bit more directly onto the wound.

"Hiss!"

"Witch, you're trying to kill your own boyfriend!"

Finn winced as the liquid seeped into the torn flesh, a sharp pain shooting through his hand. He nearly jumped out of his seat.

"It hurts?"

"Then why did you say it didn't?!"

Seeing his pained reaction, Wanda's confidence wavered, and she quickly tried to control the infection bubbles that had formed on his wound. Her panic set in—it really looked painful!

"That's on you. It really hurts..."

Finn reached out and grasped her hand, his expression pitiful.

"Then what should I do?"

Wanda's eyes softened with concern. It was rare to see Finn looking so vulnerable.

So cute…

But just as that thought formed in her mind, it was shattered by his next words.

"I need you to comfort me."

BE:-(?A?|||

Sure enough, she had overestimated this man. Ever since they had confirmed their relationship, he had been impossible to deal with!

She hadn't been able to catch a break all day and night!

"You're dreaming. Take care of the rest yourself—I'm going to take a shower!"

Wanda refused to play along and shot him another glare before turning away.

"My hand is injured, I can't take a shower by myself. You should..."

Finn trailed off, his tone deliberately suggestive as he watched her reaction.

"Go away!"

Wanda didn't wait for him to finish, bolted to the balcony to grab her clothes, and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Like a deer running from a predator.

"Adorable witch."

Finn shook his head with a helpless smile. Even after all this time, Wanda still got shy over things like this.

So cute…

With that thought, he waved his hands, and several bandages appeared out of thin air, wrapping around his wounded hand.

Healing it was a simple matter for him, but he had his reasons for keeping the injury.

Then, Finn turned and walked into the study.

Back in the alley, he had come to a decision—he couldn't allow things to continue as they were.

He had ignored Mysterio's posthumous schemes before because they had little to do with him personally. Whether it was The Daily Bugle exposing Peter Parker's identity or Peter's reckless immaturity causing multiversal chaos, none of it concerned him.

He wasn't a saint, nor was he Spider-Man's babysitter. He had no reason to intervene.

But now, things were different.

The woman he cared about had become a pawn in Mysterio's game. That changed everything.

Perhaps, when he had first read the original events, he didn't fully grasp why Peter had begged Doctor Strange to erase the world's memory of him.

But after experiencing it firsthand, he understood—being falsely accused, branded a criminal, and condemned by the entire world...

That feeling was unbearable.

And now, in his study, he was ready to act.

"Bring them both here."

Finn locked the door and summoned the Shadow Corps.

The shadows melted away, and within minutes, two figures materialized in the study—T-1000 and 2B.

"Finn, what do you need us to do?" 2B asked, her voice steady.

"Why do you call me 'Finn'?"

Finn paused. He didn't remember teaching her that, but she was smart enough to pick it up on her own. Shrugging it off, he continued, "Never mind. I need you to find someone."

"Wilhelm, former director of Stark Industries' weapons development department."

Wilhelm.

The man who leaked that damning video. Quentin Beck's accomplice.

Once a key researcher at Stark Industries.

A genius—abandoned.

"Wilhelm... scanning his profile."

T-1000's eyes flickered as he processed vast amounts of data in seconds, pulling up Wilhelm's entire history.

"Find him and bring him to me. Alive."

Finn's voice was cold.

The rumors and the video had already spread too far. Even forcing Wilhelm to recant wouldn't undo the damage.

People always believed what they wanted to believe.

But Finn refused to let Wilhelm profit off the destruction of someone else's life.

He wanted the man to witness his so-called 'masterpiece'—Mysterio's grand illusion—being utterly dismantled.

"Understood."

T-1000 nodded.

"And tonight, I need Doctor Strange lured away. I'm going to the Sanctum Sanctorum in New York."

Naturally, Wilhelm wasn't the only reason he had called them here.

He had a bigger target.

The ancient, forbidden magic hidden deep within the Sanctum. The spell Doctor Strange had attempted—the one meant to erase Peter Parker from the world's memory.

Because Stephen had lacked the strength to control it properly—and because Peter had interfered—it had resulted in the multiversal disaster.

Finn intended to use that spell.

It was the most effective way to solve the current crisis.

And while he was there, he would check the library for other forbidden spells left behind by the Ancient One.

Just as everything was set in motion—

Boom, boom, boom!

A knock came from the door.

"Finn, are you in there?"

Hearing Wanda's voice, Finn quickly waved his hand, sending his subordinates into the shadows before casually sitting in front of his computer, opening a game.

Click!

The door swung open, and Wanda walked in, frowning when she saw the screen. "You're injured, and you're still playing games?"

"It's fine. Doesn't affect my aim."

Finn demonstrated by expertly sniping an enemy in-game.

"That's not what I meant..."

Wanda sighed, then hesitated. "Come on, take a shower and go to bed."

"But my hand's injured. I can't wash myself. If it gets wet, I'll have to redo the bandages, and it might get infected."

"You..." Wanda faltered, her fingers resting on her chin. "That's true. You really can't wash yourself..."

Would she really have to help him bathe?

No way! He'd take full advantage of it!

But before she could overthink it, Finn scooped her up and strode toward the bathroom.

"Don't space out, it's up to you!"

"Ah?!" Wanda yelped.

What the hell was happening?!

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1st Bonus Chapter - 500 Power Stones

2nd Bonus Chapter -1000 Power Stones

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