"First lesson," Luke said calmly, "no power is inherently bad. It's only bad when it's used the wrong way."
He looked at Wanda steadily.
"And if that power exists inside you, then it's something you can learn to control. Not fear. Not suppress. Control."
"The more you try to suppress it," Luke continued evenly, "the more unstable it becomes. It's like bottling emotions—keep them locked in long enough, and even a small trigger is enough to make everything explode."
He gestured lightly. "Your power works the same way."
A simple chair formed in front of him, and he sat down, relaxed but attentive. "So we'll start with something basic."
"Close your eyes," Luke said. "Don't force anything. Just feel what's already inside you."
Wanda hesitated. She looked at him, confusion clear in her wide, innocent eyes—uncertain, afraid that she might lose control again, just like before.
Luke didn't rush her. His voice stayed calm and steady. "I'm right here," he said. "Nothing's going to happen unless you let it."
That reassurance seemed to ground her.
Slowly, Wanda took a deep breath… and closed her eyes.
Luke casually pulled a can of cola from his inventory, popped it open, and took a sip—then paused.
Red chaos energy was already seeping out around Wanda, thick and turbulent, wrapping her like a living tide.
'…Yeah. This is definitely not MCU-level,' he thought, watching the density of the power spike. 'This is straight-up comic-tier.'
The chaos magic wasn't wild yet, but it was heavy—ancient, primal, and far more intense than what she should've been manifesting at this stage.
Outwardly, Luke stayed calm.
"Good," he said evenly. "You're doing fine. Now don't try to push it down, and don't try to grab it either."
He leaned forward slightly, keeping his voice steady and grounded.
"Think of it like your blood flowing through your veins. It's already part of you. Don't reject it. Don't dominate it. Just… let it move."
Luke took another small sip of his drink before adding, his tone firm but calm,
"And the most important part—don't think about anything irritating. No anger. No fear. No memories that spike your emotions."
The red chaos energy around Wanda wavered slightly, reacting to the shift in her breathing.
"Keep your mind steady," he continued. "If your thoughts stay calm, the power will follow. Chaos magic mirrors emotion. The moment your mind destabilizes, it does too."
Wanda's brow relaxed just a little.
The red aura didn't vanish—but it stopped surging, settling into a slow, controlled flow around her body, like a storm being held at bay rather than unleashed.
Luke watched closely, eyes sharp now.
"Luke? Where are you—" Pietro's voice cut through the garden as he stepped in.
The effect was immediate.
Wanda's concentration shattered.
The calm red aura snapped violently outward, chaos energy erupting like a broken dam. The ground cracked, air warped, and the garden plants bent away as if crushed by invisible pressure.
"Pietro—!" Luke snapped as he stood.
Before the chaos could surge any further, he simply snapped his fingers.
Blue mana spread out in a smooth, suppressing wave, pressing down on the raging red energy without crushing it. The chaos recoiled, folding back in on itself like a storm forced into stillness.
Wanda sucked in a deep breath, eyes flying open as the pressure vanished.
She was still seated on the mat.
Luke was standing right in front of her.
And his shirt was… gone.
Her brain stalled for half a second.
Smooth skin. Defined muscle. Not exaggerated—just solid, balanced, the kind of body shaped by survival rather than vanity.
Wanda's face heated instantly.
She was still young—barely past twenty—and growing up in Sokovia hadn't left room for things like curiosity or harmless normal moments. Life there had been about endurance, about getting through one day at a time. Not this.
Her breath hitched before she could stop it.
She let out a small, startled squeak and quickly covered her eyes with both hands—only to pause a second later.
Without realizing it, she peeked through the narrow gaps between her fingers, curiosity quietly winning over embarrassment.
Luke tilted his head, genuinely confused.
"Why are you closing your eyes? Are they hurting?"
"Y-your shirt…" Wanda muttered, barely audible.
Luke glanced down.
Silence.
"…Huh."
He looked back up, then around, as if expecting the shirt to be lying nearby. It wasn't.
"When did that happen?" he thought, mildly baffled. Chaos magic… figures.
Wanda was still peeking, cheeks flushed, trying very hard to look away and failing just as hard.
Luke sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You can open your eyes. I'm not radioactive or something."
"That's not the problem," she said quietly.
Luke blinked once, struck by how innocent she really was, then turned his head toward Pietro.
"Why did you come in and disturb the class?" he asked, tone flat but clearly annoyed.
As he spoke, he pulled a fresh shirt out of his inventory and slipped it on.
"Someone came to meet you."
There was clear anger in Pietro's voice.
Luke paused.
'Why does he sound pissed?. Did Tony Stark show up or something?'
*****
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