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Chapter 40 – The Pains of History
It was like an unrestrained wave came crashing down on Ophelia's head as she desperately tried pushing her way through the panicked crowd of mourners.
The madness of screaming children and collapsing bodies was bad enough by itself, but the sheer strength of the terror coursing through the brawler's veins truly made it a nightmare she would never be given the relief of escaping.
"It's suicide bombers, guys!" Tony shouted through the comms, trying to be heard over the din of a thousand voices soaked in mortal terror. "They're going for the most densely populated areas!"
"The public squares still need to be emptied but we've cleared out the synagogues. That was their first target." Bruce called out through the comms as he jostled through the streets of Vienna.
"They're not cleared out, Bruce!" Ophelia interrupted as she splintered off from the course of the panicked crowd, sprinting through the narrow alleyways of the city like hell itself was on her heels.
"Wanda and Pietro are still in there!"
Two Days Earlier
Nice, France
"Pépé- j'ai besoin de respirer (Grandpa- I need to breathe)," Ophelia choked out as her grandfather Lucien engulfed her in his arms.
If Ophelia could call herself tall, then her grandpa was a veritable giant. His huge broad shoulders and towering height in current use as he cradled the nineteen-year-old as if she was still a toddler.
"How many times do I have to tell you to be careful, ma chér?" Lucien's voice boomed as he slowly released his granddaughter from his grip. "It's like you enjoy giving me heart attacks."
"I promise it's always by accident." Ophelia's muffled voice said as her face was unceremoniously shoved into the aging man's chest.
While the entire team of superheroes awkwardly stood in front of the quaint villa on the outskirts of Nice, Steve trudged toward the home carrying everyone's luggage.
"I didn't know becoming everyone's pack mule was in the itinerary for today." The super-soldier grumbled as grunted going up the stone steps. With most of the bags in his arms belonging to Tony and his bad habit of overpacking. "Tony, I don't think you needed to bring this many outfits."
"Wrong, I should have bought more but you rushed me," Tony replied blasély, looking back at a struggling Steve with a smirk.
"Where are my manners? Come, come, and close the door behind you, Captain Rogers." Lucien beckoned his granddaughters' team into his home as they left the quinjet parked on the remote outskirts of the city.
"Sir I...my hands are a bit full but okay." Steve sighed despondently as he struggled with one of Tony's bags in particular.
Just as he silently prayed for one of Thor's lightning bolts to strike him, a red glow engulfed the luggage as they began lifting themselves in the air and floating through the door. Passing a nonchalant Wanda leaning against the door frame and wiggling her red-tipped fingers.
