Ch: 226 [Cindy Moon]

Ch: 226 [Cindy Moon]

[Peter's first person POV]

Silver was ready to go back home after dealing with her ex. Wanda, who was most excited to help her get revenge was surprised to see that it was all over. She went to Kamar-Taj to seal the alternate Darkhold, which took longer than expected.

"I'd have given you money or tech, but I doubt you need any of that," Silver said, standing near her jet that I fixed up for her. "But if you ever need my help, just call me, and I'll be there."

"But first you need to fight your organization and remove those traitors. Are you sure you don't need help?" I asked, unsure of her plan.

"I will be fine. With Foreigner gone, bringing them down would be a piece of cake," Silver shrugged.

"Okay, if you are sure," I said.

"Be careful," Wanda came forward and hugged her.

"Thank you for helping me," Silver smiled at Wanda. "You too Peter... Emma, Chat, thank you all."

"Come visit us sometimes," Chat added.

We watched as Silver boarded the plane and flew away. With that done, it's time to find Cindy Moon. Morlun is dead, so I doubt I need to worry about him anymore. And even if he comes back, the level I am at right now, he won't be able to do anything to me.

I just hope that this version of Cindy Moon is the good one, not the evil one.

...

That noon, Wanda decided to take a break and relax at the spa since she spent too much magic while sealing the book. As for me, I decided to go to Kamar-Taj to check on how everyone was doing. I also wanted to check on the time chambers to make sure everything was in order.

When I arrived in Kamar-Taj, I found Dr. Stephen Strange sitting on a bench near the gate, wearing casual clothing instead of his usual robes. He was reading the newspaper with his legs crossed, appearing more relaxed than I'd ever seen him before.

"Dr. Strange?"

He glanced up and saw me approaching, then folded the newspaper and tucked it under his arm.

"Hey, Peter, it's been a while."

"Yeah. How are things going on here?"

"Things are looking good. With the help of your time chambers, our training accelerated by years," he said, rubbing his chin. "Within another three or four months, we should be able to deploy the ultimate barrier around the planet to prevent Knull and the others from attacking Earth."

"That's a good thing," I said, glad that things were progressing as planned. "So, what's with the casual wear?"

"Oh, I'm on vacation, and I need some fresh air," he shrugged. "I don't know, but I think I've been working too hard."

"Hmm, I can relate," I nodded in understanding. "But shouldn't you be spending time somewhere else other than Kamar-Taj?"

"I was actually enjoying a nap at my beach house, but then Wanda came with the Darkhold. Sigh!" He sighed in exhaustion. "It took a lot to just seal it back and I was too exhausted to go back again."

"So, what now?" I asked curiously.

The door was her freedom, but it was also the world's death sentence. Morlun's shadow loomed over her thoughts, a constant reminder of why she stayed locked away. She had agreed to this, after all. She had volunteered to sacrifice her life, her dreams, and her future so that countless others could live.

Her gaze lingered on the keypad for a long moment.

"You can leave," she whispered to herself, her voice barely above a murmur. "You could leave."

The words felt hollow. Even if she could leave, where would she go? What kind of life could she have? Cindy knew she wasn't just protecting herself; she was a living barrier, the last line of defense against Morlun.

But still, doubt crept in. What if Morlun had forgotten about her? What if she had become irrelevant to his plans? She shook her head, trying to banish the thought. Ezekiel wouldn't lie to her. If she left, Morlun would come, and the consequences would be catastrophic.

She picked up the well-worn journal Ezekiel had left her. Its pages were filled with her notes, sketches, and ramblings, a small attempt to hold onto her sanity. Today, like many days, she turned to a blank page and started to write.

Day 1,642... She scratched the day and tried to remember how long has it been, but couldn't remember. In the end, she decided to give up.

'Still alive. Still here. Still waiting for a man who may never come. Am I brave? Or just a coward, too afraid to face what's outside?'

Cindy stared at the page for what felt like an eternity, the pen in her hand trembling. She wanted to write, to pour out her thoughts, but her mind was as empty as the page. No words came, only the constant hum of the bunker's ventilation system filling the silence.

Her frustration boiled over. With a sharp exhale, she tore and crumpled the paper into a tight ball and flung it toward the corner of the room. It joined a growing pile of discarded thoughts and abandoned attempts to make sense of her life.

"Augh," she groans, pushing her tangled hair aside with her hands. "What's the point?

Cindy leans back in her chair, her eyes straying to the old TV sitting on a rickety stand across the room. The screen is scratched and flickering wildly, but it's one of the few links she has to the world outside. She reaches forward and smoothes her fingers over the worn buttons until she finally finds the power button.

There was a crackle and static sound from the TV until an image finally came on. It was a rerun of some sitcom the network thought people would want to see, but to Cindy's ears, it grated with its canned laughter. She slumped back onto the worn sofa, her body sinking into the cushions that had lost all their support long ago.

The laugh track went off as the character on-screen tripped over a misplaced chair, cheers from the unseen audience. Cindy didn't laugh. She didn't even seem to pay attention. What was the point of it all; after all, the show was just noise at best, a temporary distraction from her crushing monotony of existence.

She focused on the crumpled paper pile in the corner of the room and felt a wave of guilt wash through her. She had tried to keep herself hard, in vigilance, but this isolation was eating into the fabric of her. The bunker, once her sanctuary, now became her prison.

She whispered to herself, "I just can't do that anymore.".

But what choice did she have? Staying was not a choice. She knew the risks. She had been instructed ad infinitum on the risks. Still, the what-ifs remained locked in her head, a nagging itch she couldn't scratch.

The sitcom ended, and the TV switched to static again. Cindy stared at the screen, her thoughts swirling. Maybe she should try writing again. Maybe she should train. Maybe she should—

...

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AN: Before you ask. No, she is not in the harem. The harem is already too big and we are almost at the finale. So, no point in adding more girls. I'll be exploring MC's relationship with Rogue and Wanda a bit, that's it. Some might be disappointed. Well, there are too many girls lol, I can't add them all in 1 fic.