Marvel: My Sign-in System

In the manor's cozy living room, Wanda lounged on the sofa, dressed casually in a T-shirt and shorts, her slender legs resting lazily against the cushions. She flipped through a dark, ancient tome with a bored expression.

Outside, the sound of childish laughter echoed from the garden, a stark contrast to the eerie presence of the book in her hands.

From the staircase, Natasha descended into the living room, wearing a sweatshirt, shorts, and sandals. She carried two steaming cups of coffee, placing one on the table in front of Wanda and keeping the other for herself as she took a seat on the sofa.

Her sharp gaze fell on the ominous book Wanda was reading. "What are you reading?" Natasha asked, her tone tinged with curiosity and suspicion. "There's something... unsettling about it. I feel like it's radiating strange energy, disturbing my senses."

In truth, Natasha's instincts were screaming. Her well-honed perception—something akin to heightened observation and intuition—detected a foul, malicious power emanating from the tome. It wasn't just unsettling; it was downright evil.

She hesitated before speaking further. Wanda's supposed to be learning white magic from Kamar-Taj, training to be the next Sorcerer Supreme. So why is she reading something that reeks of dark magic? Is this... rebellion?

"This?" Wanda lazily held up the book, a mischievous grin on her lips. "It's the Darkhold—Leon and I found it last night."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "The Darkhold?"

"Yup," Wanda replied nonchalantly. "It's a book of ancient black magic, written by some primordial dark god. It's powerful, sure, but it's also a troublemaker. Loves to corrupt its readers. So, Natasha, don't even think about opening it."

Wanda's tone was playful, but her warning carried weight. She knew Natasha well enough to anticipate her curiosity.

The reason Wanda could handle the Darkhold without succumbing to its influence was twofold: her unparalleled mental fortitude and the Chaos Magic that coursed through her. Chaos Magic existed on a higher tier than the dark magic within the book. A lesser power simply couldn't override or corrupt a greater one.

Natasha nodded, understanding the seriousness of the warning. If Wanda, of all people, was cautioning her, then it wasn't worth the risk. Curiosity often led to disaster, and Natasha wasn't about to test that theory.

Taking a sip of her coffee, Natasha leaned back and turned on the TV. She spoke casually, "You two came back pretty late last night. Something happen?"

The seemingly innocent question caught Wanda off guard. Her relaxed demeanor wavered for a moment as she chuckled nervously. "Uh, yeah, about that... We, uh, ran into someone. A demon from Hell, actually."

Natasha's hand paused on the remote. "A demon?"

"Yeah, said he was Mephisto's son. Calls himself Blackheart or something."

Natasha frowned. "Mephisto's son? Blackheart?"

"That's the one," Wanda confirmed. "Apparently, he's trying to overthrow Mephisto and become the new ruler of Hell. He even tried to recruit us. Leon wasn't impressed, though—he sent him packing back to Hell."

Wanda spoke calmly, but there was a spark of amusement in her tone, as if the memory of Leon handling Blackheart with ease was more entertaining than terrifying.

Natasha shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "You two never have a dull night, do you?"

"He's quite the loving father and a dutiful son," Natasha remarked with a smirk, leaning back gracefully on the sofa and crossing her legs. "Fits my image of Hell perfectly."

After that brief quip, the conversation dwindled into silence. Wanda resumed her relaxed position, flipping lazily through the Darkhold, while Natasha, ever the pragmatic spy, focused on a stream of media reports on her tablet. It was a habit of hers—to sift through the news, searching for nuggets of valuable intelligence.

Most days, the findings weren't groundbreaking.

But today was different.

"Breaking news," a live report blared from the TV. Natasha looked up.

"Just ten minutes ago, a large green monster suddenly appeared on the Brooklyn University campus. Military forces swiftly took over the area, engaging in an intense battle with the creature. Footage shows the green monster exhibiting inhuman strength."

The screen cut to shaky footage of the chaos. The monster—a towering, muscular figure over two meters tall with green skin—was rampaging across the university lawn. Soldiers surrounded it, unleashing a barrage of bullets that ricocheted harmlessly off its impenetrable body, sparking with every impact.

The news anchor's voiceover continued: "Neither conventional ammunition nor high-frequency sonic weapons have proven effective. Military casualties are mounting. This raises a critical question: what is this creature? Is it a mutant? A human experiment gone wrong? Or a military weapon turned rogue?"

The broadcast footage showed soldiers firing relentlessly while the green giant roared, each growl echoing with unbridled fury. Natasha noticed something others might miss: with every roar, the creature's muscles seemed to swell, its strength growing more ferocious.

"This is getting interesting," Wanda murmured, her eyes drifting lazily to the screen. She casually slipped the Darkhold back into a pocket of her magic space, her curiosity piqued.

Natasha nodded thoughtfully. "He's... unusual. There's definitely more to him."

Wanda's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "He's kind of cute, don't you think? Maybe I'll turn him into a puppet."

Natasha shot her a sharp look, rolling her eyes. "Has that cursed book scrambled your brain? How do you say stuff like that with a straight face?"

Wanda giggled, sticking out her tongue playfully. "Relax, I'm just kidding."

"Next time you say something like that, I'm letting Leon deal with you," Natasha warned, her tone dripping with mock severity.

"Oh, please. He wouldn't dare."

"Then I will."

Wanda laughed nervously, catching the dangerous glint in Natasha's eyes. Quickly, she pivoted the conversation. "Anyway, this big guy isn't ordinary. The military wouldn't be chasing him so aggressively, especially in broad daylight on a college campus, if he didn't have some serious secrets."

Natasha's gaze returned to the screen, her expression growing pensive. "You might be right," she said softly.

Both women watched the screen in silence, the air between them charged with curiosity—and the unmistakable scent of something far bigger brewing on the horizon.

Watching the video footage, Natasha analyzed the green monster's behavior and characteristics. Based on its performance, she formed a hypothesis: the creature's strength seemed to grow in direct response to pain or anger.

At the beginning of the confrontation, the monster was overwhelmed. Surrounded by soldiers, it endured a relentless barrage of gunfire and was momentarily staggered by high-frequency sonic weapons. But now, the situation had changed dramatically.

The monster no longer appeared fazed by the soldiers' attacks. Firearms and sonic weapons were useless, and the creature had begun a brutal counterassault, leaving devastation in its wake.

"Strengthening through anger..." Natasha mused. "It's not entirely unheard of, even for regular humans. Extreme emotions—like rage—can trigger a surge of adrenaline, temporarily enhancing physical strength. But this thing... it's on a whole different level."

The green monster's power was clearly no ordinary phenomenon. Whatever its origins, it was unlike anything Natasha had seen before.