"Had enough throwing your tantrum?"
"If you're done, it's time to take a rest."
The moment the words fell, the complementary powers of the Tiger Talisman and the Horse Talisman acted simultaneously upon Peter and Wanda.
The Horse Talisman forcibly dismantled the frantic, resisting surges of Chaos Magic, ensuring the berserk reality-warping energy could inflict zero harm on Peter.
Meanwhile, the Tiger Talisman drove straight into the deepest sanctum of Wanda's soul.
The harmonizing, balancing power of the Tiger did not violently extinguish the tempest inside her. Instead, with an infinitely gentle and soothing resonance, it coaxed out the innate kindness buried in Wanda's heart, elevating it until it stood in perfect equilibrium with her grief, fury, and desire for vengeance.
Under the influence of the Tiger Talisman, the swirling scarlet miasma across Wanda's skin receded back into her core.
Her pupils shifted from blood-red back to their warm, natural dark brown.
The jagged crimson crown hovering above her brow dissolved into nothingness.
Feeling the turbulent storm quiet inside her veins, the maddening, discordant whispers that had echoed in her ears since childhood ceased completely.
Wanda looked up at Peter with a look of exhausted gratitude. Her lips parted slightly, clearly wanting to say something, but her physical limits had already been breached.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and her body fell from mid-air.
Dispersing the golden flames around him, Peter reached out, catching her securely in his arms.
Cradled against his chest, Wanda surrendered to a deep, peaceful slumber.
High above, the sheared sky began to stitch itself back together, the two contrasting firmaments merging into one. Sunlight pierced the dispersing clouds, casting a gentle, long-absent warmth over the molten ruins of Chernobyl.
Carrying Wanda in a bridal hold, Peter descended smoothly to the ground.
At the same time, Gwen deactivated the Shiten Kōshun barrier, stepping over to Peter's side and glancing down at the sleeping girl in his arms.
"She's actually quite pretty."
Gwen dropped an offhand remark that felt entirely divorced from the battlefield's atmosphere.
Connected to her as always, Peter caught the exact undertone, a sheepish look crossing his face:
"Isn't that a rather strange detail to focus on right now?"
"Is it?" Gwen gave him a playful side-eye before turning to Pietro:
"Hey, aren't you her brother? Are you just going to stand there and watch your sister sleep in another man's arms?"
Pietro—who naturally carried a bit of a mischievous streak—parted his lips to quip, but remembering they were technically still on opposing sides, he swallowed his jokes.
Stepping forward, he gently took his sister into his own arms, looking up at Peter with visible apprehension.
"Relax, she's not going to die," Peter explained casually. "She just suffered a mild backlash from her Chaos Magic combined with an intense emotional overload. Give her ten or twelve hours of sleep and she'll be right as rain."
Having clarified Wanda's condition, Peter added:
"I know a bit about your past. You two know better than anyone that Hydra is rotten to the core."
"Those Nazi remnants have spent decades scheming to dominate the world. They're next on my hit list."
"So... considering you're both exceptional talents, how about joining the Avengers?"
"Of course, if you'd rather not work alongside this guy," Peter gestured toward Tony, "you're free to join the Thunderbolts or the Eye of Twilight instead."
Pietro didn't give an immediate answer. Bowing stiffly to Peter, he murmured that he needed time to think it over with his sister.
Peter didn't press the matter, simply handing Pietro a private comms number to contact Maria Hill whenever they made up their minds.
While the group conversed on the field, the global live feed exploded in a carnival of celebration:
"WE WON! THE ARBITER WON!"
"Not a single scratch from start to finish! This is absurdly overpowered!"
"My brain still can't process what we just watched: Alien invasion, nuclear apocalypse countdown, berserk Scarlet Witch, Arbiter solo carry... Hollywood couldn't write this if they tried."
"The wildest part is that final forehead tap! Where's the promised epic struggle? He literally knocked her out with one finger!"
"Forget the fight, did anyone catch that interaction with Ghost-Spider?!"
"Girls, do you smell what I smell?"
"I bet fifty cents there's something going on between those three."
"Thinking too small! If you ask me, the Arbiter has something going on with EVERY superheroine in the Avengers."
London Sanctum Sanctorum.
"He actually pulled it off..." Even after the Ancient One dispersed the water scrying mirror, Master Mordo stood muttering in complete disbelief.
"That Arbiter... how can he possibly be this powerful? Immune to Chaos Magic itself?"
"And that final elemental form..." Wong added from the side. "Is that some unknown branch of primordial elementalism? But scaling it to that degree is absurd beyond reason!"
The two sorcerers debated back and forth without reaching an answer, finally turning their eyes toward the Ancient One, who stood with her hands behind her back, sporting an enigmatic smile.
Even with the mirror gone, her eyes gleamed with deep fascination.
"Master Ancient One? What are you contemplating? Are you planning to take the Arbiter as your disciple?"
"No," the Ancient One shook her head without hesitation.
"He is the one who upends and concludes all things—an unquantifiable, unpredictable anomaly. Imposing traditional sorcery upon him would merely serve as an unnecessary shackle."
Wong and Mordo looked at each other in utter shock.
An unnecessary shackle... To hear their revered teacher speak of the mystic arts as a burden to someone showed just how astronomical her evaluation of the Arbiter was!
Before they could fully process her words, the Ancient One spoke again:
"Compared to him... there is another soul who has captured my interest."
In her mind's eye, the image of a slender figure clad in a white hooded suit surfaced.
Within the newly branched timeline, the innate spiritual resonance and reality-rejecting talent displayed by that girl surpassed even the primary successor she had originally chosen.
"Perhaps she would make an even more exceptional Sorcerer Supreme. In her hands, even the Book of the Vishanti might..."
Hearing the name of the legendary tome, Wong and Mordo shuddered:
"Should we make contact with her immediately...?"
"The mystic arts do not permit us to forcefully dictate the destiny of mortals," the Ancient One interrupted calmly.
"How the future unfolds will depend entirely on the natural karma woven between us."
Simultaneously—in a hidden Hydra fortress in Eastern Europe.
CRASH!
Baron Zemo was furiously clearing his desk, smashing every monitor, tablet, and glass fixture within arm's reach into pulverized shrapnel.
Even after reducing everything in sight to rubble, the suffocating terror clawing at his chest refused to abate.
He knew all too well that with Gravik dead and the Skrulls shattered, the next target on that monster's checklist was none other than himself!
No! Helmut Zemo would NEVER accept such a pathetic end!
Never!
With wild determination burning in his eyes, he stood up and walked toward a subterranean vault that not a single soul in the entire facility knew existed...