Doomshroud
𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣
-Ruins of Sokovia-
Vision arrived in the gloomy light of day, descending as a caped streak of red, green, and gold from the cold grey canvas of the sky. The wind rushed past his ears, flowing cape beating harder at his heels with every passing moment. His cool, sanguine features betrayed the almost human exhilaration gathered in his stomach as he neared the ruined city. Flying had always been one of the most wonderful sensations he could ever hope to experience, and it always somewhat saddening to think that few would be able to experience it as he had.
However, the closer he drew to Sokovia - towards the splintered streets and the crumbling, almost skeletal building frames - his mind drifted from the sensation and towards the mission at hand and what it would entail.
It was surreal, returning here in light of everything that'd happened. His boots soundlessly met the pavement, a tense quiet looming over the region that, months ago, had almost destroyed the world. The dust prickled with the despair of a fallen nation; the same despair that had reverberated across the world like an tremor, till it splintered people, heroes, and friends apart like an emotional earthquake; the very same despair that had put him at odds with his former friend and teammate, the prime target of his mission today, Wanda Maximoff.
He crossed ground at a slow pace, gaze roaming the bleak buildings and fallen intersections in search of her. His powerful footsteps hung in the air, his steady stride becoming a glide as he hovered a few feet off the ground. The exhilaration that had filled his stomach moments ago was sinking into a pit of gloom, and regardless of his duty to uphold the collective good, he allowed it to. He'd known the mission wasn't going to be an enjoyable one since the moment Ross had assigned it to him.
He was beginning to approach the heart of the city - a church, where the citizens once might've gathered in unified praise. Ultron had been rather fond of it, and somehow, Vision imagined he might find Wanda here, perhaps searching for herself with her newfound freedom.
When he'd finally arrived on the charred and crumbled structure, he briefly closed his eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to halt the guilt on rise in his insides. Forgive me, Wanda, he thought, and taking a deep breath, he entered, trusting that she'd already sensed him.
Vision arrived in the gloomy light of day, descending as a caped streak of red, green, and gold from the cold grey canvas of the sky. The wind rushed past his ears, flowing cape beating harder at his heels with every passing moment. His cool, sanguine features betrayed the almost human exhilaration gathered in his stomach as he neared the ruined city. Flying had always been one of the most wonderful sensations he could ever hope to experience, and it always somewhat saddening to think that few would be able to experience it as he had.
However, the closer he drew to Sokovia - towards the splintered streets and the crumbling, almost skeletal building frames - his mind drifted from the sensation and towards the mission at hand and what it would entail.
It was surreal, returning here in light of everything that'd happened. His boots soundlessly met the pavement, a tense quiet looming over the region that, months ago, had almost destroyed the world. The dust prickled with the despair of a fallen nation; the same despair that had reverberated across the world like an tremor, till it splintered people, heroes, and friends apart like an emotional earthquake; the very same despair that had put him at odds with his former friend and teammate, the prime target of his mission today, Wanda Maximoff.
He crossed ground at a slow pace, gaze roaming the bleak buildings and fallen intersections in search of her. His powerful footsteps hung in the air, his steady stride becoming a glide as he hovered a few feet off the ground. The exhilaration that had filled his stomach moments ago was sinking into a pit of gloom, and regardless of his duty to uphold the collective good, he allowed it to. He'd known the mission wasn't going to be an enjoyable one since the moment Ross had assigned it to him.
He was beginning to approach the heart of the city - a church, where the citizens once might've gathered in unified praise. Ultron had been rather fond of it, and somehow, Vision imagined he might find Wanda here, perhaps searching for herself with her newfound freedom.
When he'd finally arrived on the charred and crumbled structure, he briefly closed his eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to halt the guilt on rise in his insides. Forgive me, Wanda, he thought, and taking a deep breath, he entered, trusting that she'd already sensed him.
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