Maybe just maybe you will get romance😶🌫️
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"Whether or not you want to make the trade... that's your choice," Nolan said with a shrug, turning away from the X-n delegation.
Their refusal didn't surprise him. Nor did it frustrate him.
He always got what he wanted—eventually. Whether through cooperation, leverage... or force.
Charles and Hank, for all their intelligence, still clung to their idealism. Still believed the world could be reasoned with. Still feared putting power in the hands of soone capable of using it.
They feared what might happen if a man like Nolan held the taphorical nuclear codes—conveniently ignoring the fact that Xavier's own school sat atop a telepathic WMD.
With Cerebro, Charles could vaporize every mind on Earth with a single thought.
But he didn't.
That made him safe... right?
They placed their hopes in Stark. But Nolan knew better.
Even if Tony broke down the Sentinel tech, he could simply release an updated model the next day. It would beco an endless ga of escalation.
And unlike Tony, Nolan never lost a ga of intellect.
In pure engineering, Stark might still be ahead. But give Nolan ti, access, and Otto Octavius at his side—and he'd catch up in no ti.
Charles and Hank exchanged one last glance. They could tell by Nolan's casual tone that he wasn't done. He would find a way. And when the ti ca, they'd be the ones coming to him.
"Then we'll take our leave," Nolan said coolly, rising from his seat.
Norman stepped forward. "Gentlen, this way."
But Charles held up a hand. "One last thing. I believe Erik had a question... sothing only you can answer."
Nolan raised an eyebrow. "Wanda?"
The na fell from his mouth like a stone into a still lake.
The room fell silent.
Erik's eyes widened. That reaction—it confird everything.
"You know?"
"I do."
"She's my daughter, isn't she?" Erik's voice was hushed, raw with hope.
Nolan smirked. "Why should I tell you? You want to know? Go ask her."
He gestured toward the corridor. "She's two floors down. ditating in the seventh-level room."
Charles frowned. Nolan clearly knew the answer but refused to speak it outright. If Erik truly wanted to know, he would've asked Wanda already.
But fear... guilt... had stopped him.
Just as always.
Suddenly Norman approached. "Sir, Miss Maximoff is looking for you."
"What for?"
"She said she wanted to have dinner with you. Asked if you were still in the lab."
"Dinner?" Nolan looked mildly annoyed. "Tell her I'm busy. And remind her to focus on ditation, not distractions."
He turned back to Charles and the others. "Now, if you'll excuse , I have experints to conduct."
His mind was already leaping ahead—to Pym Particles, magical sigils, and the arcane branding techniques Dormammu had used to bind power to his followers. Nolan intended to replicate those thods. Better. Smarter.
"Wait—" Erik started.
But the door opened.
Wanda stood there.
Radiant. Casual. Waiting.
"There you are," she said with a smile. "Dinner?"
"Not interested," Nolan replied flatly.
"Co on," she said, grinning mischievously. "If you do, I'll give you sothing really good."
Nolan raised an eyebrow. "What kind of 'sothing'?"
He imdiately dismissed the idea of the Darkhold—she wasn't ready for that. And after his close brush with Dormammu, he'd made it a rule to never scan minds tied to multiversal entities.
Especially not Chthon.
Chthon's power was leagues above Dormammu's. Possibly on par with the Vishanti themselves.
"I'm not telling. Co to dinner and find out."
She folded her arms and raised a brow.
He sighed. "...Fine."
Dinner was inefficient. But his curiosity was piqued.
Charles, Hank, and Erik stepped out, just in ti to see the two of them together. Erik's eyes locked onto Wanda, his throat tightening.
She stepped closer to Nolan, but the mont she noticed Erik staring at her, she froze.
Then, without thinking, she stepped behind Nolan.
"...Who is that old guy?" she whispered, frowning. "The last ti I saw him, he randomly asked who my mother was. What's his problem?"
Nolan glanced at Erik's expression—so many emotions vying for dominance. And yet Wanda's body language was clear: trust. She trusted Nolan more than Erik.
"You really want to know?" Nolan asked.
Wanda blinked. "Huh?"
"Let's skip dinner. I'll trade you answers... for that mysterious gift."
Wanda hesitated. "Fine. I want to hear it."
Nolan leaned in slightly, smirking. "He's your father."
The words hit like a shockwave.
"What?"
"His na is Erik. Biologically, he's your father. The couple who raised you in Sokovia? Adoptive. HYDRA likely altered your mories—or theirs—during experintation."
"No," Wanda shook her head. "My father died... during the war..."
"Possibly a lie. Or a planted mory. HYDRA likely considered you and your brother failed experints. Until your powers are activated."
Behind her, Erik looked shattered.
But he didn't speak.
And Wanda?
She stood there—silent, stunned, trying to process what it ant.
"...Oh."
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