At Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Lalia Azali hides more than most. She's not just a surgeon-she's this universe's Scarlet Witch, a title whispered with fear and awe, tied to a power she never wanted and a fate she can't outrun.
Logan sees t...
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-Lalia
I was numb, devoid of any sensation or sentiment. There was no trace of remorse, anguish, or even fleeting happiness within me. My emotions had been stripped away, leaving me in a state of complete emptiness. It felt as though I was merely a passenger in my own body, operating on autopilot. Strangely, this detachment brought me a sense of calm and liberation that I had never experienced before.
I stood before the lab door, my heart cold and devoid of any emotion. With a flick of my wrist, the door disintegrated into dust, and I stepped through the threshold, my footsteps echoing through the empty halls.
The weight of my brother's death bore down on me, but all I felt was pure power and an insatiable need for revenge. As I walked, I could feel the raw energy coursing through my veins, unrestrained for the first time in years.
"Professor, just who I wanted to see," I sighed as I saw him standing there, waiting.
"Lalia, what have you done?" he asked, his voice heavy with concern.
I walked up to him slowly, my eyes locked onto his. "No, Professor, what have you done? You've been limiting my power since I was fifteen," I went on, "saying you needed to help me 'control' it, making me seem weak for years..."
"You were just a kid. You couldn't—" he began, but I quickly silenced him with my power.
I took over, mimicking his words, "I couldn't handle all the power I had, it would corrupt me, yada yada yada," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Spare me the lecture. I've heard it a million times, Charles."
"Where's my brother's body?" I demanded, my voice cold and unyielding.
The Professor looked confused. "What are you attempting to do?"
I couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction at his confusion. I walked closer to him, my eyes never leaving his. "Can't you read my mind?" I asked, my tone dripping with cold mockery. "Take a look," I challenged, "Go on. I'll let you this time."
The Professor's face dropped completely, his expression turning grave. "If you try to use this magic to raise the dead, it might kill you. The Darkhold's magic is impure. Even if you manage to bring Luca back, he won't be the same person he was before. It's okay to be angry and to grieve for him—" he began, but I cut him off, lifting my hand to stop the words from forming in his throat.
"Ugh, don't you ever stop talking?" I groaned. The Professor gasped, struggling to speak.
"Your brother... wouldn't... want this," he managed to say, his voice strained.
The rest of the team ran up to where we were, their faces filled with concern. They yelled out for me to stop, but I barely heard them.
Suddenly, I began to hear my brother's voice in my head, clear and unmistakable. "Don't do this, this isn't you, sestra," he whispered, his tone filled with love and concern. The familiar endearment sent a shiver down my spine, momentarily breaking through my rage.
