Might of will

**At dawn, sunlight bathed the office in a golden hue**, casting a warm glow over the stillness. Wanda stirred awake, her body feeling lighter, but her heart remained heavy with grief. The loss of her mother had not only carved an emptiness within her but also awakened a profound sensitivity she couldn't yet understand. It was as if the emotions of those around her had become a part of her, their pain echoing within her own soul. Amid this newfound awareness, one feeling cut through the rest like a sharp blade—her brother's anguish.

Experiencing their emotions and vivid memories changed her mind profoundly. She no longer carried the aura of a ten-year-old child. Though Pietro didn't have the power of reading minds, he too having the company of his brother who was different than his peers, had Pietro be no longer trait of 10 yrs old. It was as if they grew adult in a night because of tragic accident that took their mother. 

As Wanda's power grew, she could see Pietro's emotions which were as a restless storm of fear and despair, masked by fleeting smiles and nervous energy. She longed to reach out to him, to help him shoulder the burdens he kept hidden behind his speed and wit. Yet, even his sorrow paled in comparison to the overwhelming anguish radiating from Om. His grief was a tempest, fierce and unrelenting, threatening to drown everything in its wake. Wanda could feel the weight of it pulling her in.

Steeling herself, Wanda rose and walked to the lab, her steps hesitant but resolute. She found Om slumped on a couch, his head tilted to one side as he slept uneasily. Despite the calmness of his face, the vulnerability there was striking. It was as if, in his dreams, he had let go of the stoic mask he wore so well. 

But the divide between them was not as vast as she thought. 

Unbidden, her newly awakened powers stretched out, bridging the unseen gap. Before she could comprehend what was happening, she found herself inside Om's mind, his dream pulling her into its depths like a tide. 

---

**The dreamscape was stifling, suffused with a mournful stillness.**

Wanda stood amidst the shadows, the air around her heavy and oppressive. The ground beneath her was cold and jagged, mirroring the sharp edges of grief she felt emanating from Om. Ahead of her, a heart-wrenching scene unfolded. 

Om knelt in the dim light, his shoulders hunched and trembling hands hovering over two lifeless forms. The vibrant energy she had always associated with him was gone, replaced by a suffocating void. His face was pale, hollow, and etched with a despair that threatened to crush her. 

As she stepped closer, her breath caught in her throat. She recognized the shrouded figures. A dreadful certainty gripped her as she knelt by the bodies. With trembling hands, she pulled back the coverings and froze. 

Their parents lay before her, their faces serene in death, yet the reality of their loss was anything but peaceful. A sharp cry escaped Wanda as she stumbled back, the world around her blurring through the haze of tears. 

Having lost her mother had caused herself lost, now upon seeing her father's dead body, she cried pulling her hands to cover her mouth, her mouth gaping for air. Now, understanding the situation of the Om's mind, her gaze returned to Om. He hadn't moved. He remained kneeling, as if rooted to the spot, the weight of his guilt chaining him in place. 

"Om…" Wanda whispered, her voice breaking. Even though she knew she was in dream that didn't made her easy to escape from trauma, she sank to her knees beside him, her tears falling freely. The scene shifted, pulling her deeper into his torment. 

---

The shadows gave way to another memory. Wanda saw herself and Pietro as children, clinging to their parents, their cries piercing the air. The younger versions of them wept inconsolably, shaking their lifeless forms as though sheer will could bring them back. 

"Om," Wanda tried again, placing a trembling hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault. It was the deed of the those bastard who killed our mother, you don't have to beg. you can just bust them and find out who did this!" 

Though her words barely reached him, perhaps, he knew already about this. But, his grief was too consuming, a storm of self-recrimination that drowned out all else. 

The scene began to fracture, memories flickering like shards of a broken mirror. Wanda caught glimpses of faces—Tony Stark, Captain America, a yellow-robed figure—and then a red hue consumed everything, its chaotic energy resonating with her own awakening powers. 

---

**Back in the lab, Wanda awoke with a gasp.** Her hand hovered over Om's, her heart aching for him. She wanted to tell him what she had seen, to share the burden he carried so silently. But as he stirred, she pulled away, unsure of how to begin. 

She offered him a soft yet caring smile as she rose. "remember to call me, if you need me," she tried to show her bravado before leaving the lab. 

Om's eyes fluttered open, catching her fading silhouette. A flicker of panic gripped him; for a moment, he felt their world was finally blown away since, now his sibling too were drawn to the game of the filthy powerful forces, which was shadowed by the family shield. He felt the grudges against those who were responsible for the tragedy.

---

**In the quiet heart of Genesis Labs**, Om sat surrounded by glowing screens, the hum of technology a backdrop to his thoughts. His focus was singular: finding a way to help Wanda and Pietro. Files scrolled past his eyes, endless searches yielding fragments of information. The stories of mystics and legends seemed like whispers of hope, fleeting and elusive. 

Then, a name surfaced: *Kamar-Taj*. Aether's algorithms highlighted it as a sanctuary of mystic knowledge, nestled somewhere in the Himalayas. Om leaned forward, his gaze sharp. 

"Aether," he said, his voice steady despite the storm within him, "prioritize all mentions of Kamar-Taj and its sages across databases." 

"Understood, Boss," Aether replied, her tone calm yet purposeful. 

---

As dawn broke, Om's resolve deepened. Project Moonlight took its first tangible form. The sleek drone, Specter 1, hovered silently in the morning light, a sentinel born of precision engineering. Motion sensors, hidden cameras, and a network of real-time alerts wove an invisible fortress around his family. It had a great flaw, it was powered by lithium battery so, it couldn't survey far away place and it had to have a battery backup. 

Still, Om watched Specter 1 patrol the grounds, a rare sense of relief softening his features. But shadows of unease crept into his thoughts. Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division—had surfaced too often in his searches, their presence like a chill on the back of his neck. Even in his dreams, hazy glimpses of them lingered, unsettling and half-formed.

"Aether," Om said, his tone sharpened by determination, "let's dig deeper. I want to know what is it, what it really is."

"Yes, Boss. Compiling the reports now."

Lines of text scrolled across the screen. Om's eyes narrowed as he absorbed the details:

The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, better known by its acronym S.H.I.E.L.D., is an American extra-governmental counter-terrorism and intelligence agency tasked with maintaining both national and global security.

Founded in the wake of the Allied victory over the Axis powers and HYDRA during World War II, S.H.I.E.L.D. was organized to protect the United States from all possible threats. With its advanced weapons and extraordinary agents, S.H.I.E.L.D. was maybe the greatest military power on Earth.

"boss, i think i got something more to it.", added Aether while Om was scrolling the tab. 

Om paused mid-scroll, his fingers hovering over the trackpad. Aether's voice carried a tone of curiosity—almost caution.

"More to it, you say?" Om asked, his gaze still fixed on the scrolling text.

"Yes, Boss," Aether replied. "While you've been reviewing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s history, I've been cross-referencing older, encrypted files from the remnants of WWII archives and other fragmented data streams. There's... something buried beneath the official narrative."

Lines of text vanished from the screen, replaced by a schematic—a web of connections between names, dates, and operations. At the center, the unmistakable insignia of S.H.I.E.L.D. loomed large. But beneath it, another symbol began to emerge: a skeletal octopus, its tentacles outstretched.

Om's brow furrowed. "What is this?"

"Hydra, Boss," Aether said, her tone grave. "A Nazi science division that rose to prominence during World War II under Johann Schmidt—otherwise known as the Red Skull. Official records claim Hydra was dismantled after Schmidt's death and the Allied victory, but... there's more."

Aether's words hung in the air as new information populated the screen.

"Hydra didn't die," Aether continued. "It evolved. Fragmented cells went underground, infiltrating post-war power structures. And then, somewhere in the mid-20th century, they found the perfect host: S.H.I.E.L.D."

Om's pulse quickened. The screen displayed a timeline of key S.H.I.E.L.D. operations—missions he had read moments ago with admiration. Now, highlighted red, they bore annotations: Unauthorized resource allocation, Discrepancies in mission reporting, Unexplained casualties.

"So Hydra didn't just infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D.," Om said slowly, "they've been using it. Hiding behind its reputation, feeding off its resources."

"Exactly, Boss," Aether affirmed. "Every time S.H.I.E.L.D. expanded its influence, Hydra expanded with it. They've operated in the shadows, sowing chaos while keeping their existence a secret. A parasite thriving within itself."

Om exhaled, his fists clenched. "They've turned S.H.I.E.L.D. into a weapon for their own agenda. And no one even knows."

"Not yet, Boss," Aether replied. "But with the information we're uncovering, you'll soon know the full extent of their reach."

Om leaned back, the weight of the discovery settling on his shoulders. Hydra wasn't just an enemy of the past—it was a present, insidious threat, one that could strike from anywhere, anytime.

"Keep digging, Aether," he ordered. "It seems Hydra has been hiding in plain sight for too long. We need to see what hydra has gained till now. we need to be sure of its extends since, as per the report SHIELD seems a great deal dealings with global level incidents."

"Yes, Boss," Aether said. "Beginning deeper scans of global S.H.I.E.L.D. activity. This will take time, but we'll find them."

Om's eyes returned to the screen, his resolve hardening. The game had changed. Hydra was no longer a ghost of history—it was an active force, and now, it had Om's full attention.

An alert interrupted their exchange. Aether's tone carried an edge of urgency. "Boss, I've retrieved a classified SHIELD document linked to the Stark family archives."

Om leaned forward, his gaze narrowing. "Show me."

The screen flickered, revealing a name that radiated danger and significance: The Tesseract, Ark reactor, Super soldier serum.

Om stared at the screen which showed the general info of the tesseract while the other half of the documents showed the . Along with the attachments of location of stuffs stored made this search an important step to advance the future plans one step higher.