C I N D E R ― An MCU Spinoff.

THIRTY-SEVEN

— TWO YEARS LATER;
WAKANDA, AFRICA. 2018 —

She remembered it all, even behind closed eyelids, even as she desperately tried to escape it and pretend everything was okay.

That the world wasn't ending, that dust and blood wasn't what made that horrifying day memorable in the most nightmarish way possible.

Christina didn't expect anything at this level of intensity to happen—never did she feel so on fire before, pain kicking her in the gut repeatedly with nausea bubbles up from within the pits of her stomach and the throbbing pain in her head growing intensely as each growing minute passed like it was nothing but a mere tiny speck in the reaches of the universe.

It had been a gruelling battle, with the Outriders, the remnants of the Black Order alongside the rest of the Avengers and the king's army of Wakanda—they fared so well but they lost.

She tried contacting Peter with the mind link but it felt as if he was too far for her mind to reach; panic rooting itself deep at the back of her head. He hadn't been communicating back via the mind link though maybe. . . He was swept up in this mess too.

Unlike the others.

But it happened. The towering, Mad Titan Thanos won, he had won much to their horror— much to their dismay. They expected to win, expected to stop the gauntlet wielding madman dead in his tracks

And at first, none of them had no idea what was going to happen after he snapped his fingers.

The pain started when Bucky suddenly crumbled before her eyes and the mind link they shared was suddenly severed, which then grew gradually worse as seconds turned to mere minutes.

It was like her entire body was on fire—as she heard the voices of them, her family away from home—CINDER—broken, confused but distorted. But she was sure they were okay.

Or so it seemed.

She was paralysed, unable to move in the slightest as jolts of pain ran deep in her bones the moment she rose from the ground, a shaky exhale parting her dry, crusted lips. She and Steve exchanged glances—horror and confusion seemed to dominant the atmosphere.

Vision's grey body laid out on the ground, Christina struggling to choke back a couple of tears when reminiscing about the throbbing pain from earlier. Last Tony communicated with her was hours ago; reassuring her that he had sent Peter back home after he climbed aboard the Q Ship—sure, Christina believed her father. . . but she hadn't heard from him either.

Anxiety was a constant sensation running deep within her, growing with intensity as they retreated indoors, after gathering up the dead and those who remained, cleaning the debris and allowing the Wakandan people to mourn.

Christina settled in a quinjet she had taken to Wakanda, resting her frame against her motorcycle, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her contacts to find the right people she needed to call up.

After calling up Peter's phone multiple times, pacing back and forth and leaving an infinite number of voice messages, Christina decided to call up Dash or Joshua to see if they knew anything.

Joshua obviously couldn't pick up as he was working, while Dash picked up at the speed of light, breaths panicked as he appeared to mumble something about people randomly crumbling to nothing but dust and having to check himself or call up Joshua.