[Completed]
In the shadow of the Cold War, tensions between global superpowers mirror a growing divide between humans and the emerging mutant population. Y/N Maximoff, a powerful mutant with abilities rooted in chaos magic and energy manipulation...
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The portal had transported you and Erik to a place that was both a nightmare and a memory. Auschwitz, the very place where Erik's power had first awakened, stood before you in ruin. The once-terrifying camp was now eerily quiet, overgrown with vines and grass, as though time itself had tried to forget the horrors it had witnessed.
But Erik couldn't forget. You could feel it in the way his body tensed, the storm raging inside of him. The memories came flooding back—the trauma, the pain, the loss. His mother. The screams of the innocent. His powers awakening in a desperate need to survive.
"This is where your power was born. And this is where your people were slaughtered," the figure—Elohim—spoke, his voice echoing in the stillness of the desolate camp. His words were heavy, carrying centuries of meaning in every syllable. You could sense Erik's internal battle as he walked toward the gate, his face pale and set with determination.
You heard it—the voices in Erik's mind, the yelling, the agony. His thoughts were a whirlwind, filled with the memories of the worst day of his life. The day he lost his mother. The day his powers erupted in a desperate cry for survival.
"You shouldn't have brought me here," Erik's voice broke through the mental chaos, cold and heavy with grief.
"Why?" Elohim asked, his voice almost mocking, though it didn't quite feel that way. It felt... distant.
"You afraid to be here?" Elohim pressed, his words lingering like a challenge in the air.
Erik didn't answer, but his jaw clenched in anger. The ghosts of his past loomed over him like shadows. It was clear he didn't want to revisit this place. The pain of it was too great, too raw.
"Who are you?" you asked, your voice steady despite the storm within you. You wanted to know more about this mysterious figure who claimed to have been called many names.
"Elohim, Shen, Ra. I've been called many names over many lifetimes. I am born of death. I was there to spark and fan the flame of mankind's awakening. To spin the wheel of civilization. And when the forest would grow rank... and needed cleaning for new growth... I was there to set it ablaze."
His words were cryptic, impossible to fully grasp in the moment. You could feel the weight of history in them, a history that seemed to stretch back to the beginning of time itself.
Erik wasn't interested in history, though. His eyes were locked on the gate, the memories still tearing at him. "Where were you when my father and mother were slaughtered in this place?" His voice was sharp, filled with a raw, righteous anger.
Elohim's gaze softened, though you could see a flicker of something else in his eyes—guilt, perhaps. "Asleep. Trapped in darkness. I was not there for you, my son. But I am here now. You don't know your own strength, but I do."
You watched as Erik's hand slowly moved to the ground, fingers brushing against the earth. His face was taut with concentration as Elohim spoke again, guiding him.
