When Gali explained her reason, everyone glanced at each other like, "Wait... did we all just hear the same thing?" Then they turned to Gali with matching looks that screamed, "You're kidding, right?"
Seriously? This petite, stunning girl claiming she could eat more than one-fifth of all the food present? By herself?
That amount could feed millions for days! No way this wasn't some kind of bizarre excuse. Right?
But nope—Gali's face was dead serious. And honestly, no one knew her well enough to call her bluff. Wanda paused, remembering something Hela had once told her: "This world? It's anything but normal."
Hela told her that there's a literal island here that eats spiritual power. Hela herself casually bends space, flies at light speed, said she handcrafted the sun and rebuilt this entire realm in seven days like it was an arts and crafts project.
So… someone devouring a mountain of food? Yeah, not exactly the weirdest thing.
Wanda tilted her head and looked at Gali. "It's totally fine if you need to recharge, but don't you think one-fifth is kinda... a lot?"
Gali looked a little sheepish—Wanda wasn't doubting her, it seemed. That only made her soften a bit.
"Okay, how about... one-seventh?" she offered, trying to be fair. "But really, if I wanted to, I could eat everything here. I've never actually been full. Ever. Since the day I was born. Everything I do burns energy—making all those plates out of nothing would consume more."
And just like that, they started bargaining, right in front of everyone—like they were haggling at a street market and not discussing apocalyptic buffet portions.
No one interrupted.
Because really, someone had to mediate this kind of weird situation—and someone doesn't want that 'someone' to be Magneto or Mystique.
Natasha, who was kind of the stand-in voice for regular humans right now, wasn't about to let any mutant take charge.
Mystique felt the same. And while Ororo had her following, she didn't have the weight or reputation to lead this conversation.
So Wanda, being close to Hela, was the most neutral and acceptable choice. If anything went wrong, well... at least they could complain afterward.
The only problem?
Wanda had zero experience in negotiation. She wasn't trained to be a spy or diplomat—she was raised as a soldier. A very direct one. Like Pietro, who earlier just blurted out what everyone was thinking.
So when Gali mentioned she'd never known what it felt like to be full, something tugged at Wanda's heart. That... sounded awful. A never-ending hunger?
Wanda didn't even want to imagine that. But her gut told her Gali wasn't lying—and Wanda had learned to trust her gut.
"Alright," she nodded, sincerity in her voice. "If that's really the case, what is your power exactly? If it's useful, maybe I can talk to Hela. She might have something that can help you."
She meant it. Of course, she knew Hela didn't just hand out favors for free—but if Gali's ability was something valuable, maybe—just maybe—Hela would actually step in.
After all, Hela might look all sharp edges and steel on the outside, but Wanda, who had contacted her for a few days, knew better.
Deep down, she was softer than she let on.
Gali could genuinely feel Wanda's kindness toward her, and for once, it really touched her.
It felt good—like, really good—that someone actually empathized with the soul-crushing, stomach-growling desperation that is hunger.
In fact, if this had happened earlier, Gali wouldn't have taken seriously the idea of Hela helping her. In Gali's eyes, Hela might be a goddess, sure, but that didn't mean she saw herself as any less.
It was only because, as one of the leaders who had once conquered the universe, she may have some artifact that could help her—but that was just a gambling mentality.
But when she watched Hela's fight with Mephisto—yeah… that was something else. More precisely, that strange and overwhelming energy Hela used?
Just thinking about it made Gali drool again. Literally. A string of saliva slipped out of her mouth before she quickly poofed a handkerchief into existence and wiped it away like nothing happened. Totally casual.
"It's fine," Gali said, brushing it off. "I'm confident in what I can do. And Hela already knows about me—she's probably just busy with something else."
Now, no one would question her so-called "ability" after this—they'd just seen her conjure a handkerchief out of thin air. It meant her power wasn't as simple as creating plates.
Wanda raised her head slightly, looking at the others as if silently asking for objections. When no one said anything, she took the silence as approval. "Alright then. No problem. So… how many plates are we talking here?"
Gali didn't answer right away. Instead, she just casually walked over to a wide, open space, far from the crowd.
She didn't need to do anything over the top. After all, forget plates—if she felt like it, she could pop a skyscraper into existence.
And then, in front of the small leadership group and the literal millions of people gathered… she created three million plates. Just like that. Not even her weirdest use of powers, honestly.
Up in the sky, Magneto had actually been planning to swoop in a bit earlier—but he hesitated.
His whole 'powerful mutant patriarch' vibe didn't exactly fit in with the current group dynamic, a.k.a. mostly women. Luckily, Mystique was already there, and he trusted her ability.
But then, out of nowhere, some random young woman just straight-up summoned a mountain of plates—tall enough that even he, floating high above, felt its presence.
"So?" Gali turned around with a slight smirk, like she'd just done something as casual as brushing her teeth. "Is that enough?"
She paused, then remembered: right, she was supposed to pretend this was at least a little exhausting. Wouldn't want to blow her cover as using her energy. She slouched ever-so-slightly, putting on a show of mild fatigue.
For a second, she felt like a top-tier scammer. Then she justified it with a solemn nod. It was for the greater good. And by greater good, she meant food.
Everyone else just stared, nodding mechanically like their brains had momentarily blue-screened. Either way, problem solved.
Wanda, meanwhile, couldn't help but remember something Hela had once said: "With great power, you can do anything—or create anything—you want in this universe."
And now, yeah… now she was starting to really understand what that meant.
"Good. Very good. Absolutely spectacular," Ororo declared dramatically before taking off into the air like a queen without wings.
She swooped down, gracefully snatching one of the plates mid-flight, inspecting it like a judge on a five-star cooking show—just to make sure it wasn't some kind of illusion.
Meanwhile, when it came to distributing the food more efficiently, three particular women—Wanda, Mystique, and Natasha—simultaneously turned their heads toward one specific guy.
Pietro.
Who was, unsurprisingly, just vibing and enjoying the show like nothing was going on.
The moment he noticed all those eyes on him, he froze. A sudden chill ran down his spine, and the tiny hairs on his neck stood at attention like soldiers sensing impending doom.
"Did I mess up something again?" he wondered. He went through his mental list of recent disasters but came up empty.
Unfortunately for him, he didn't realize that this moment would go down in multiversal history… as the beginning of the legend of the fastest, most glamorous, most overworked waiter to ever live. His fate was sealed before he even saw it coming.
His dear sister Wanda was the first to strike.
"Pietro, now that the food's ready and looking divine, don't you think it's your turn to, you know… contribute?"
He blinked, confused. "Contribute? What are you talking about?"
She gave him the most innocent smile. A dangerous one. "You know the Good and Bad Credits system, right? Well, I just had the most brilliant idea—one that could make you rack up tons of Good Credits."
Wanda was acting so nonchalant, so casual, you'd never guess she was currently Jedi mind-tricking her own brother. Truly, introverts make the best actors.
"With your speed," she continued sweetly, "it'd be child's play for you to zoom around and deliver all the food to everyone in no time. If you do it, the 'system' will definitely reward you. Maybe with millions of Good Credits! Who knows what kind of rewards you could redeem with that kind of balance?"
And oh boy, Pietro was tempted. Very tempted.
Because deep down—beneath the sarcasm, the smirks, and the speed—was a man with dreams. Noble dreams. Dreams like earning enough Credit Points to finally be squashed between a goddess's ti—ahem, to fulfill one of his increasingly questionable but oddly specific fantasies.
Ah yes. The multiverse would never be the same.
END OF THE CHAPTER
Author in the white space, looking at the smug Pietro. "How dare you?" he said angrily, while sighing in his heart. 'It should have been me.'
"C'mon, don't worry, I'll enjoy it for you," said Pietro, as if he could read the author's thoughts.
This made the author even more angry. "Damn, unless I earn enough Power Stones, don't even dream about this."
"Huh?" Pietro never expected the author to be so stingy, but before he could argue, the author had already left the white room. So, the hope, dream and fate of Pietro is in your hand.