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"No!"
Wanda scread as Pietro's newly restored body withered before her eyes. Crimson chaos magic poured from her hands, trying desperately to hold back the decay.
For every wrinkle she erased, another wave of age tore across his flesh. The young man she had brought back was collapsing into an old man within minutes.
"Why won't it work?!" she cried.
Doctor Strange strode into the chamber, cloak billowing. His hands glowed with sigils as he stabilized Pietro's spirit.
"Resurrection is never simple," Strange said grimly. "A soul that lingers too long in Hel is tainted by death itself. It's not just about summoning it back you have to fight the corruption that clings to it."
"If we don't stop this, he'll be dragged back," Wanda whispered.
"There are two solutions," Strange replied. "One—summon Nolan. With his mastery, this would be trivial."
"No," Wanda shook her head fiercely. "He's holding Hela at bay. I won't risk breaking his focus."
"Then the second option," Strange said, eyes narrowing. "We rebuild Pietro a vessel strong enough to resist death's corrosion. Sothing that can carry both his soul and the energy in his bloodline."
"What kind of vessel?"
"Vibranium," Strange answered. "It's the most stable magical conductor on Earth. It can absorb the decay, contain the soul, and still let him channel his powers."
Wanda hesitated. "That much vibranium… It's priceless."
Strange smirked faintly. "Your teacher already approved it. And compared to losing him? The cost is irrelevant."
Pietro, overhearing fragnts of the exchange, blinked at his sister. "Uh… whatever he just said—I trust you, Wanda."
Her heart clenched. She nodded. "Do it."
---
The lab roared to life as energy from the Cradle poured into printers of Wakandan design. Vibranium latticework fused with synthetic tissue, weaving a body both organic and indestructible.
Minutes later, a perfect replica of Pietro erged except this body shimred faintly with a tallic undertone.
"Step inside," Strange instructed.
Wanda's magic drew Pietro's soul into the vessel. Scarlet light flared as the fusion began. For a tense heartbeat, silence then Pietro's eyes snapped open. He inhaled sharply, color flooding his face.
"I'm alive," he whispered. Then his hands flexed, gripping the table hard enough to leave dents in the vibranium surface. His eyes widened. "And… stronger."
Strange folded his arms. "That body could buy half of Arica. Consider yourself fortunate, Maximoff. If you weren't Wanda's brother, no one would waste this kind of tal on you."
Pietro let out a laugh, half-nervous, half-disbelieving. "So I'm basically a budget Ultron now? Guess bullets won't be a problem anymore."
"Not bullets. Not much of anything," Strange replied dryly.
From the corner, the telepath Proxima now serving Nolan spoke into a comm. "It's done. Tell the boss."
Wanda held Pietro tightly, tears streaming down her face. For the first ti since his death in Sokovia, her brother stood alive before her. Not fragile, not fading but solid, radiant, unbreakable.
---
Elsewhere…
Within the dinsional prison, Nolan stood unshaken as Hela hurled torrents of death-magic. Space shattered like glass around him, absorbing her every strike.
"Who… are you?" Hela snarled, sweat beading her brow. She had slaughtered armies, crushed gods, and yet this man treated her as if she were nothing more than a child with a dagger.
"Call the Sorcerer Supre," Nolan said calmly. "And you, little queen, will stay exactly where you are."
Hela roared in defiance, but he was already gone, his image dissolving into starlight.
---
Outside, Nolan reappeared before Thor and Loki. Both princes flinched, bracing for their sister—only to exhale in relief.
"Is it done?" Thor asked.
"Handled," Nolan replied. "She's powerful, yes but still only half a god. Compared to Dormammu or Knull? She's nothing."
Thor swallowed hard. Even Loki, usually quick with a jab, said nothing.
"Don't relax yet," Nolan added. "Hela was just the spark. Ragnarok isn't over. Not by a long shot."
The Bifrost ignited, summoning them ho.
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