Bab 37: Brainwashing Reverted!
Dawn quickly began to break over the quiet and peaceful countryside as Pietro and Wanda arrived at the secluded safe-house A.N.G.E.L. had indicated.
The safe-house was a modest, single-story building shrouded by tall trees and dense vegetation, hidden well from the prying eyes of any potential pursuers.
The twins worked swiftly, quietly bringing the unconscious bodies of Yelena and her team inside and laying them carefully in a large, bare room toward the back of the house.
Pietro closed and locked the front door, then he did a quick sweep around the perimeter to ensure they hadn't been followed and everything was clear.
Meanwhile, Wanda was inside focusing on preparing the room. She was using her Chaos Magic to alter the room's lighting, creating a dim, comforting glow.
The training Maxim had put her under was not for nothing, Wanda's control of her magic was absolutely exquisite at this point, and she was constantly increasing her maximum power over time as she grew her knowledge and trained more.
This current situation was just another way for Wanda to train her power. She knew the importance of a creating a gentle and stable environment, especially considering the mental trauma they were about to uncover and undo.
Each of these agents had been ruthlessly brainwashed and conditioned by Dreykov, and had completely lost their free will, and now she needed to undo that, whilst not scarring them.
Each agent, unconscious and restrained, lay side by side on the floor. She glanced over them, seeing the toll that years of conditioning had taken—the tense muscles, the restless faces even in sleep.
"They're like those Hydra agents, the Winter Soldiers Maxim told us about" Pietro said quietly as he watched Wanda assessing the various agents, "Trained, brainwashed and controlled. They are weapons, not people."
"Not anymore..." Wanda said with a snappy voice, "Not anymore, with our help, they won't be weapons. We'll give them a future, a home away from the destruction Dreykov caused."
A strange silence descended on the room as Wanda finished speaking. Oksana stood to the side quietly just assessing the twins. Coming from a world of relative normalcy, seeing Wanda and Pietro's supernatural powers shocked her.
Yet, it also improved her confidence. With those twins helping, she and all the other Black Widows could truly get revenge against Dreykov and the Red Room.
A.N.G.E.L.'s voice broke the silence, sounding clear and composed in their earpieces, "The neural conditioning used by the Red Room runs deep. Wanda, to break the conditioning, you'll need to penetrate through several layers of psychological barriers."
Wanda took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I'm ready."
A.N.G.E.L. continued, "Good. You must peel back each layer carefully to avoid overwhelming their systems. Begin with Yelena Belova. She has shown signs of resistance, indicating a higher tolerance to mental intrusion."
Wanda knelt beside Yelena, her hand hovering above the unconscious agent's forehead. She hesitated, her fingers trembling slightly. For a moment, the faces of her and Pietro's tormentors flashed in her mind, dredging up old pain and anger.
She pushed the memories aside, focusing on Yelena, the soldier beneath her, who was as much a victim as she had once been. She knew Yelena was the sister of S.H.I.E.L.D's Black Widow from the file A.N.G.E.L had provided.
With a nod, she placed her fingers gently on Yelena's temples, her Chaos Magic seeping into the woman's mind. Wanda's own consciousness slid past Yelena's defenses, and immediately, she was met with resistance, a jagged, cold wall of mental conditioning, fortified by years of training.
Wanda remained calm and proceeded slowly. She imagined peeling back the layers of an onion, and began to gently dissolve each barrier in Yelena's mind, moving deeper into her subconscious with each and every step.
Wanda could feel a mixture of forceful loyalty and deeply embedded fear, anger and memories of pain in Yelena's mind. Wanda continued to crack the barriers of Yelena's mind.
As the conditioning barriers weakened, Yelena's body began to react. Her hands clenched into fists, her breathing grew rapid and shallow as she began to wake up and react to the mental intrusion.
In the fractured landscape of Yelena's mind, Wanda sensed the raw fear that had forcefully driven Yelena to submit to the Red Room's control.
Wanda gritted her teeth as she sensed it, her resolve hardening. No one should have to live like this. No-one should be forced to experience this.
She reached out, infusing her magic with gentle warmth, letting Yelena feel a foreign but comforting presence. A crack formed in the icy wall around Yelena's mind, a small opening that allowed Wanda's energy to seep through.
With that, Wanda pushed deeper, isolating a core memory, one of the primary anchors to Yelena's conditioning.
It was a memory of Yelena, no more than ten years old, her face bruised and streaked with tears as she fought through an intense sparring session. Her mentor loomed over her, barking orders with a detached brutality.
"You are nothing without us. Weak without us. We own you. You will do as you're told, or you will be discarded."
Wanda's chest tightened as she absorbed the memory, feeling Yelena's pain and desperation. Gently, she began to dismantle the emotional bonds tethered to this memory, infusing her Chaos Magic into it, dissolving the painful associations.
As Wanda's power pulsed through Yelena's mind, she replaced the fear and dependence in Yelena's mind with a sense of freedom, of self-worth and determination.
Very quickly, Yelena's mind began to open up, the mental conditioning removed as she began accepting the possibilities of life beyond the Red Room's control. With a soft gasp, Yelena's eyes fluttered open, unfocused and wide with confusion. She looked up at Wanda, disoriented.
"You…" she began, her voice rough. "What…what did you do?"
Wanda withdrew her hand, her eyes kind and steady. Before she could speak, Oksana stole the spotlight, walking in front of Yelena.
Yelena's eyes widened as she recognized her fellow Black Widow, the memories of hunting her quickly flooding her mind, but before she could apologize, Oksana rested her hand on Yelena's shoulder and spoke, "She gave you back your mind. You're free from their control."
Yelena's expression twisted with disbelief, suspicion flickering in her gaze as she struggled to process the weight of Wanda's words. She swallowed, glancing at the other agents still unconscious on the floor. "The others…" Her voice was barely a whisper. "They're still…like I was."
Wanda nodded, "We'll help them too. Just like we helped you."
Pietro leaned in with a smile. "Welcome to the rebellion."
With that, Wanda turned to the next agent, repeating the process with Pietro close by. Each mind brought its unique challenges, but Wanda could easily dispatch them, and freed the Black Widows one after another with relative ease.
Finally, as the last agent blinked awake, Wanda sank back, exhausted but victorious. Around her, the freed agents stirred, their expressions a mix of confusion and disbelief.
Thankfully, Yelena and Oksana were there to help the other agents adjust to the scenario and fill them in on what happened. Once everyone was free, Yelena took a step forward, a newfound determination in her eyes, "Thank you…both of you, from all of us."
"You don't owe us anything," Wanda replied, her tone firm. "This is your life now. What you do with it is up to you."
The agents exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them as they began to process the enormity of their situation.
Yelena looked down, her gaze steady and contemplative, "I think…some of us are ready to fight. This isn't over—not until the Red Room is gone."
Wanda's eyes sparkled with understanding. "If you're serious about fighting back, we'll be here to help. But remember, this is a choice. You can walk away from all of this and live your life free. You don't need to help us take down the Red Room."
Wanda's words simmered across the room and a deafening silence echoed throughout the room. All the Black Widow's sinking in thought, but after a couple minutes, they all looked to each-other, fierce determination in their eyes.
Yelena stepped forward as a leader, her expression hardened, "We've spent our whole lives being controlled, manipulated. We're done running. If there's a way to stop the Red Room, we all want in."
One by one, the other agents nodded, expressions resolute. Wanda exchanged a look with Pietro, a feeling of satisfaction and pride swelling within her.
"Looks like Maxim's going to have some new friends to meet." Pietro said with a smirk on his lips.
Wanda chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Let's hope he's ready."
Bab 38: Hell Lord's Fortress ( Part 2 )
The ground beneath Maxim was still warm from battle as he walked deeper into the fortress. He could see the shadows of various demons moving in the corner of his vision, presumably protecting the fortress.
However, deep within the Hell Lord's Fortress, Maxim could sense a immense amount of dark energy pulsing with a malevolent aura, almost like a beacon to where the Hell Lord, Satannish was located.
As Maxim surveyed the ominous surroundings, he smirked. From his human perspective, this Fortress looked exactly how he'd expect a demonic domain to look.
It was a grotesque architectural masterpiece, adorned with the tormented souls that tried to wail in eternal anguish as they were tortured by Satannish's power.
Maxim allowed himself to become on with the shadows, shifting into his incorporeal form, his body dissolving into wisps of smoke as he passed through the cracks and crevices of the fortress.
He navigated the stronghold with a stealthy approach, unseen by the vigilant demons patrolling the corridors. He found himself in a hidden vantage point above, watching guards move below.
The guards were larger than the jaguars he had fought earlier, brutish demons with thick, armor-like skin that radiated heat. He could sense their crude instincts and aggression, but they lacked the intelligence he possessed.
He presumed these were just the lower tier of Demons, all braun but no brain, very easy to dispatch of using his power.
With a swift thought, Maxim called upon the power of the Eagle. The spectral bird materialized beside him, its wings shimmering with radiant energy.
It screeched softly, a sound only Maxim could hear, and he nodded in understanding. The Eagle would serve as his eyes and ears, scouting ahead for weaknesses in the demonic patrols.
Maxim focused on the first group of guards, huddled together, their jagged weapons glinting in the dim light. He considered his options, formulating a plan.
Although he could easily charge in, he wanted to test his stealth, and also conserve energy for his battle with Satannish.
Phasing back into the corporeal realm, he landed silently behind a thick column. He pulled Osiris from its ethereal state, feeling its comforting weight in his hands. The blade radiated with holy energy, and he steeled himself for the ambush.
A sudden gust of wind signaled the Eagle's return. It circled overhead, distracting the guards as they looked up, eyes wide with confusion. Maxim seized the moment. He launched himself forward, his body moving like a blur.
The first guard barely had time to react, just trying to roar and get the attention of his allies, but it couldn't react in time. With a swift swing of Osiris, Maxim struck, the blade slicing cleanly through the demon's neck.
The guard crumpled silently to the ground, his body dissipating into black smoke before it could raise an alarm.
Maxim continued his advance, the shadows cloaking him as he navigated through the maze of the fortress. As he approached another pair of guards, he summoned the power of the Eagle once more, sending it to create a diversion on the opposite side of the chamber.
The guards turned, instinctively drawn to the creature's presence. Maxim capitalized on their distraction, darting between them with supernatural speed.
He struck one in the back, the holy energy of Osiris igniting as it pierced the demon's spine. The creature let out a muffled gasp before collapsing, the light fading from its eyes.
The remaining guard, sensing something amiss, spun around just in time to see Maxim appear before him. Panic etched across his grotesque features, but Maxim moved too quickly.
He phased through the demon, his incorporeal state allowing him to bypass its defenses. The guard staggered, confusion clouding his senses, and Maxim materialized behind him.
With a quick slash, he dispatched the last guard, the blade of Osiris glowing brightly as it severed the demon's head. As the body fell, Maxim noticed the dim glow of a rune upon the floor, a ward designed to alert others.
Thinking quickly, he raised a foot and crushed the rune beneath his heel, dispelling its dark magic before it could signal the remaining guards.
He continued deeper into the fortress, moving silently through the darkened halls, dispatching guards one by one with ruthless efficiency, he didn't want to waste too much time on these weaklings.
In a larger chamber, he encountered a cluster of four demons gathered around a flickering portal, their voices low and guttural.
Maxim crouched behind an ornate stone structure, surveying their movements. The portal hummed with dark energy, and he realized it was a way to summon reinforcements.
He couldn't allow that. Gathering his energy, he formed a plan. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned the Eagle again, sending it to distract the guards by swooping in low and screeching loudly.
The demons turned in unison, confusion splaying across their faces as they spotted the spectral bird. Maxim seized the opportunity, dashing from his hiding spot and lunging at the nearest guard, striking with lethal precision.
As he cut down the first demon, the others snapped into action, but Maxim was already on the move. He wove through their clumsy strikes, phasing in and out of corporeality to evade their blows.
With every strike of Osiris, he felt the power within him surging, a dance of death that echoed through the chamber, the power of his template was rapidly rising as he felt more and more in-tune with Dante's abilities, with Dante's fighting style.
Maxim unleashed a powerful swing that cleaved through two demons at once, their bodies disintegrating into ash. He pivoted on his heel, facing the last demon, who roared in fury and charged.
Maxim activated his angelic speed, darting to the side just in time to avoid the wild swipe. He turned, eyes locked on the demon's exposed flank, and drove Osiris deep into its side.
The scythe crackled with energy, and the demon let out a pained howl before collapsing to the ground.
Panting, Maxim stepped back, surveying the carnage. The chamber was littered with ash and the remnants of the demons, but the portal still hummed ominously. He couldn't risk anyone else summoning reinforcements.
With a quick prayer to the powers he now wielded, he focused his energy into Osiris and slashed at the portal's edge. The blade sizzled against the dark magic, and a blinding flash erupted as the portal collapsed in on itself, sealing shut.
With the area secured, Maxim allowed himself a moment of respite. He leaned against a wall, the silence of the fortress now more pronounced, the shadows seemingly growing thicker with each passing second.
He could feel the pulsing dark energy nearby,the true heart of Satannish's domain awaited him. Gathering himself, he moved forward, the anticipation of the battle to come igniting a fire within him.
The fortress may have been crawling with demons, but they were nothing compared to the wrath of a determined warrior who now harnessed the powers of both heaven and hell.
Maxim pressed onward, determined to confront the Hell Lord himself and end his reign of terror once and for all.
Soon, he found the throne room, stepping through the ornate archway as he entered. As soon as he entered, the atmosphere immediately shifted, an oppressive atmosphere crackling in the air.
At the far end of the room, on a massive throne adorned with the skulls of fallen warriors, Satannish lounged with a smug arrogance. The Hell Lord's form was imposing, cloaked in robes that billowed like smoke, with fiery eyes that glowed from within the depths of his hood.
Maxim felt the weight of his gaze settle upon him, and his blood began to pump, excitement filling his body as he looked eager to defeat Satannish.
"Ah, the wretch who has dared to tread upon my domain," Satannish rumbled, his voice deep and resonant, echoing off the walls like thunder. "You've dispatched my guards with surprising ease. But here, in my presence, your journey ends."
Maxim clenched his fists around Osiris, the blade pulsing with an eager energy at his side. "Quit yapping, time to end you! I'll have fun owning this realm once you're dead."
The Hell Lord chuckled, a sound that reverberated through the chamber, sending a chill down Maxim's spine. "Bold words for a mere mortal. Do you truly believe you can stand against the might of a Hell Lord? I have crushed champions far greater than you."
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted again, and the room was filled with dark energy, swirling like a storm around Satannish.
The throne shook as the Hell Lord rose, his form expanding, muscles rippling beneath his robe. Maxim felt the overwhelming force of his power press against him, but he stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated.
"Show me what you've got!" Maxim shouted, activating his Angel Mode. His body shimmered with a brilliant light, a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding them.
The room was suddenly filled with the radiant glow of his aura, and he could feel his strength surging, harmonizing with the angelic energy coursing through him.
Satannish's eyes narrowed, fury igniting within their depths. "You'll regret this insolence!"
Status Power Mingguan
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Power 
94 Power
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