The End of a Horrible Father
"Ugh. That stupid arrogant fool," Armand's voice said as he appeared right in the center of a large old mansion.
He looked at the clock he was gripping tightly, the object he had used to escape at full speed the moment he saw Wanda appear. Without hesitating for even a second, he immediately destroyed it, crushing it in his hand.
Around him, the spectral mist of the Obscurus gently surrounded him, like a loyal pet slightly protruding from his shadow.
Armand let out an annoyed click of his tongue.
The dark mist immediately shrank, retreating a few centimeters in fear.
"We trusted too much that those cockroaches would be enough to stop her for long enough, and at the same time we wasted far too much time dealing with those brats. I knew it would never work," he said in a tone filled with total reproach toward Lucius.
Perhaps even hatred.
His gaze swept across the room where he stood until it settled on a painting.
A massive hand-painted portrait that appeared quite ancient.
In it could be seen the image of a very old man.
One could even say deteriorated, as if he were completely corrupted.
And the canvas itself was filthy, covered in black grime that seemed attached to it, as though it were truly leaking from inside the painting.
The thing that stood out most in that image were the man's eyes.
Eyes that glowed faintly with malice, very similar to Armand's own.
To the point that it seemed the real gaze of Armand was the one inside the painting and not the one on his face.
And those eyes stared at him with the same uncontrolled hatred Armand carried.
As if they wanted to climb out of the painting and tear out Armand's throat.
Armand looked at the portrait and, like every time he saw it, made a face filled with deep disgust.
Because what he was looking at was his own reflection.
His own portrait.
His true self.
"It doesn't matter. With Lucius dead, that arrogant idiot won't be able to control me, and I'll save many of my trump cards against him," he added with a dark smile while looking beneath the painting, where a special reddish magical line could be seen, seemingly preventing anyone from taking the portrait.
And it was becoming thinner and thinner.
As if it were losing power.
Or rather, as if its owner had lost all of his power.
Which made Armand smile with delight, convinced that Lucius had been killed so easily.
Armand could not have been happier.
Because ever since Lucius had appeared that day to propose some supposed partnership, he had actually discovered Armand's weakness and ended up forcing him to work alongside that idiotic creature.
When all Armand had wanted was to disappear and create a countermeasure against that powerful woman.
Before Armand's hands could even touch the edges of the painting, ready to take it and flee, a voice echoed out of nowhere.
"It's funny. I don't know if it exists in this universe, but there's a movie about this."
Armand turned his head.
And found those deeply green eyes.
A beautiful feminine face and soft red hair that seemed to sway gently in a wind that did not exist inside the mansion.
Armand grabbed his wand on instinct while, at the same time, sensing the danger this woman represented to his master, the Obscurus burst from his shadow and attacked her directly without needing a command.
But before it could even collide with her, an invisible shield stopped it.
The woman only needed to raise one hand and slowly rotate it through the air.
And suddenly the uncontrollable dark mist of the Obscurus, as though a vortex had appeared at its center and was devouring it, was pulled into it.
It kept compressing itself into what appeared to be a small transparent orb.
And as the Obscurus was torn away from Armand's shadow, he began twisting in absolute agony, trying to raise his wand and attack in an attempt to stop it.
But the pain was so intense that even his magic seemed out of control.
"AAAAAAAAAH!" he screamed violently while the veins in his neck bulged as if his head were about to explode.
It felt as though someone were ripping out his soul.
And when the last fragment of the mist left his shadow, the dull agony left behind in his body nearly drove him into a coma.
He trembled violently.
Even opening and closing his mouth while convulsing uncontrollably.
Wanda, who was looking at the dark orb in her hand and silently observing it, let her gaze glow with Chaos Magic for a moment, turning her eyes red.
"Poor thing," she said in a soft, sympathetic tone.
"She suffered far more than you did when you tore her away."
"I wonder. Between the two of you, who is the real monster?" she added, her gaze becoming dangerous as she looked at Armand lying on the floor.
"You harmed your own children because of your greed for power. A father would have thrown away all of his power for his children. You are not a father," Wanda added as her tone grew colder.
"You... you... you... why...? Why?" Armand could not speak properly, as though he had suffered mental damage.
But Wanda did not need to hear his words to understand his question.
"Because from the very beginning, you were going to help bring every Dark Wizard who wanted to harm my children, my little nephews, and my family directly to us," Wanda said as she raised a hand.
And above it, created by Chaos Magic, magical images formed, showing exactly what had happened in the cemetery.
And then what was happening right now.
But it did not stop there.
It also showed what would happen next.
Which made Armand grow paler and paler.
"My children are not the only ones gifted with seeing the future. I just don't like using it because I don't like spoilers," Wanda said with a gentle smile that was not friendly in the slightest.
"And now that your job is done..."
Wanda slowly raised her free hand, pointing with a finger.
But she did not stop at Armand.
Her finger continued upward until it pointed at the portrait behind him.
Wanda gently traced a line through the air.
And a slash appeared across the painting, cutting diagonally through it.
"AAAAAAAAGH!" Armand screamed as a black line appeared across his chest, seeming not to exist on his body but on his very being.
Wanda moved her finger again, drawing another cut across the portrait.
"HAAAAAAA..."
Armand's body began convulsing and twisting across the floor once more.
No words could come from his mouth anymore.
Only infernal pain.
Wanda did not seem to feel even the slightest sympathy for him.
She simply raised her hand and snapped her fingers.
A small dark red flame ignited in the center of the painting.
And began consuming it as though devouring it.
At the same time, Armand's body began releasing black smoke while twisting in agony worse than death itself.
And his body, as though made of paper, began burning at the same time as the painting.
Until both of them, within only a few seconds, turned into ashes.
Even those ashes themselves began to disappear.
As though they were an aberration even to the world itself.
Wanda looked around the now silent room.
And at the Obscurus, which was struggling to escape from the orb.
But when Wanda glanced at it, it stopped.
And became completely still.
Like a well-behaved spirit.
Wanda smiled when she saw that, unable to stop herself from finding it interesting.
Behind Wanda, red flames began spreading throughout the entire mansion.
To the point that within only a few seconds, the entire manor was engulfed in fire.
Destroying it completely.
Wanda did not need to remain there any longer.
She simply raised her hand and took hold of the orb containing the Obscurus.
And the moment she touched it, her body vanished in an explosion of red sparks.
As if she had never been there at all.