The sun had long set over New York City, but inside Stark Tower, the atmosphere felt heavier than usual. This wasn't their typical post-mission gathering filled with pizza, jokes, and Parker's latest disaster. Wanda Maximoff had called them together—not as friends, not as lovers, but as something more.
This was about the future.
Not just Sokovia's future—their future.
The lounge was quiet when Gwen Stacy entered, her steps slower than usual. Jean Grey and Storm were already seated together, their casual postures betraying none of the tension that Gwen could feel like static in the air. Natasha Romanoff was sharpening one of her knives with calm precision, while Talia Ivory Stark stood near the window, arms crossed, eyes scanning the city below like she was searching for someone who owed her money.
And then there was Wanda—standing by the far side of the room, her back to them, gazing out at the skyline, eyes faintly glowing in the dim light.
There was something different about her tonight—the air around her felt heavier, commanding. Not just the Wanda who flirted and teased, but the Scarlet Witch, the woman who had taken on mutants and nations and walked away victorious.
Gwen approached cautiously, her heart both comforted and uneasy.
Because when Wanda got like this, things changed—forever.
"Where's Peter?" Gwen asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
Jean smirked.
"Locked out. Again."
Right on cue, a muffled voice came from the hallway. "Guys? You know I brought donuts, right? I'm trying to bond with you!"
Natasha didn't even look up.
"I'm armed."
A long pause.
"Okay, cool. I'll just… leave these here."
The sound of hurried footsteps retreating down the hall made Talia chuckle softly.
"That boy is terrified of you."
Natasha grinned, finally putting her knife down.
"Good."
The laughter was brief, but it was enough to ease the tension—slightly.
When Wanda finally turned, the room fell silent.
She didn't need to raise her voice—her presence was enough.
Her eyes burned with conviction, but beneath the power was vulnerability—hope mixed with desperation.
"We've all been through hell," Wanda began, her accent thicker than usual, the weight of Sokovia still in every syllable.
"We've been hurt. Controlled. Used. And we survived. But surviving is no longer enough."
Gwen's heart clenched as she saw the flicker of pain cross Wanda's face. The woman who had lost her brother to Hydra. The leader who had seen her people torn apart by power beyond their control.
Storm spoke softly, but firmly.
"And you don't want to just survive anymore."
Wanda nodded, stepping forward.
"I want to build something. For us. For every woman who has been told she's not strong enough. For every country like Sokovia—left to pick up the pieces while the world moves on."
Jean leaned in, her voice quieter but carrying just as much weight.
"You want to create more than just a team."
Wanda's eyes burned brighter.
"I want to create a legacy. A shield. A sword. A home."
Gwen's throat tightened. She'd seen Wanda passionate before—but this was different. This was destiny.
Storm shifted in her seat, arms crossed but eyes soft with understanding.
"So… what do we call this revolution you're planning?"
Jean grinned, trying to break the tension.
"I still like 'Hot Heroine Alliance.'"
Talia smirked.
"We could go with 'The Amazons.' Classic."
Natasha raised a brow, voice dry as ever.
"As long as it doesn't sound like a spa."
Wanda smiled faintly but shook her head.
"I've thought about this. For a while."
Her gaze swept over them—all of them. Her family. Her harem.
"L.U.S.H.," Wanda said, her voice soft but commanding. "League for Uniting Sovereign Heroines."
The name hung in the air like a spell.
Jean blinked, then gave a slow nod.
"…Damn. That's actually badass."
Storm smiled.
"It fits."
Natasha twirled her knife.
"It's ours."
Gwen reached over, her hand sliding into Wanda's, squeezing gently.
"And it's just the beginning."
As the words settled over them, something shifted—a ripple in the air.
Black tendrils slid from Wanda's shoulder, pooling beside her into a sleek, liquid form that rose into the shape of a head—Fracture.
Her eyes gleamed faintly, that predatory smile forming as she spoke, her voice velvet-smooth, with power beneath every syllable.
**"You are becoming what you were meant to be, Wanda,"** Fracture purred, her gaze flickering over the group.
**"A Queen… and her Court. This… L.U.S.H… is more than a name. It is power. A foundation that will withstand the storms to come."**
Jean, surprisingly unfazed, smirked.
"I kind of like it when she shows up. Adds… drama."
Fracture's grin widened.
"Drama… and dominance."
Wanda didn't flinch. She met Fracture's gaze and nodded.
Together.
Always.
Natasha lifted her glass.
"To L.U.S.H."
Storm followed.
"To us."
Jean raised hers with a smirk.
"To being hot and unstoppable."
Talia winked.
"To ruling the world."
Gwen lifted hers last, eyes locked on Wanda's.
"To the future we build… together."
Wanda raised her glass—red eyes glowing softly.
"To power. Ours."
Their glasses clinked, the sound ringing louder than it should have, like it marked the start of something unstoppable.
Because it did.
This wasn't just a toast.
This was a promise.
Later that night, Gwen found Wanda standing by the window, looking out at the world she was ready to change.
Gwen slipped her arms around her waist, resting her head against Wanda's shoulder.
"You did it," Gwen whispered.
"This… feels different."
Wanda's eyes softened, though the fire was still there.
"It is. This time… we're not asking for a seat at their table. We're building our own."
Fracture's voice slithered in her mind, satisfied.
**"You are ready."**
Wanda smiled.
Together the future is theirs.
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