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Indigo huddled in the dimly lit quinjet, her breaths shallow and ragged as she struggled to steady her racing heart. The air felt thick with tension, each heartbeat echoing like a drumbeat of impending doom. Around her, the rest of the team sat in stunned silence, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
It was as if time had stood still, the world frozen in a moment of collective horror. No one dared to speak, afraid that their voices would shatter the fragile semblance of calm that enveloped them. They had all been subjected to Wanda's terrifying mind games, and the aftermath left them reeling, their minds haunted by visions of darkness and despair.
Indigo couldn't shake the haunting image of Bucky's transformed gaze from her mind. It wasn't the warm, familiar gaze of the man she loved; it was the chilling emptiness of the Winter Soldier, a soulless void that seemed to pierce through her very being. She felt as though she were invisible to him, nothing more than a pawn in his deadly game.
The memory of his metal hand wrapped around her throat lingered like a ghostly specter, haunting her every waking moment. She found herself reaching for her neck, half-expecting to feel the cold touch of his metallic fingers, but they never came. It was as if the memory had become intertwined with reality, blurring the lines between nightmare and waking life.
Desperate for reassurance, Indigo had asked Clint to hold up a mirror for her, hoping to find some tangible evidence of the ordeal she had endured. But to her relief and confusion, there were no bruises, no marks of physical trauma to betray the horrors of her imagination. It was all in her head, a twisted manifestation of Wanda's psychic manipulation.
Or was it? As she stared at her reflection, Indigo couldn't shake the gnawing doubt that lingered in the depths of her mind. What if the vision Wanda had conjured was more than just a figment of her imagination? What if it was a glimpse into her darkest fears, a reminder of the lingering shadows that haunted her past?
As time slipped by, Clint's voice broke through the tension-laden silence, announcing their arrival at a safe house. Indigo wasted no time, moving swiftly to Nat's side and offering her a supportive hand to help her up. Despite the lingering traces of unease that etched Nat's features, Indigo offered a reassuring smile as they made their way out of the quinjet.
Stepping onto solid ground, they found themselves standing in front of Clint's house, the familiar facade offering a welcome sight amidst the chaos. Indigo exchanged a questioning glance with Clint, silently seeking an explanation for their unexpected destination. His shrug of indifference provided little insight as he walked toward the front door.
"What is this place?" Thor's voice boomed from behind them, his tone a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.
"A safe house?" Tony's response carried a hint of uncertainty, his words echoing the doubts that lingered in the air.
