New York, Sanctum Sanctorum.
Wanda lay quietly on the bed, like a sleeping beauty.
Ever since returning from space with Homelander, she had remained in this state of deep coma.
A pale golden magic circle hovered above her body, rotating slowly as it sustained her bodily functions.
Nourished by magic, her body required no food, her muscles showed no signs of atrophy, and her vital signs remained stable.
The wooden door was gently pushed open, and Homelander entered with Ancient One.
"How is she?" Homelander asked with a frown.
Ancient One calmly gazed at Wanda lying on the bed and said,
"There is nothing wrong with Wanda's body. But her astral form—what you would call her soul—has left this shell."
"I can sense traces of Chaos Magic going out of control within her. This loss of control was not spontaneous. It was more like some external force had forcibly triggered it."
"What is certain is that she is not dead. It is simply that her soul... is now missing. I cannot even locate her within this dimension, just as I could not locate you when you first disappeared."
"Is there a way to bring her back?" Homelander asked.
"I am working on it, trying to find traces of her astral form in other dimensions. But that will take time. The moment I hear anything, I will contact you immediately."
Ancient One looked at Homelander and paused briefly.
"But you must prepare yourself, Anthony. We cannot rule out the worst-case scenario."
"Master, didn't you foresee this on the timeline?" There was a trace of accusation in Homelander's tone. "I don't believe you didn't look into the future."
"Why didn't you stop her from going into space?"
Ancient One did not get angry. She merely sighed softly.
"I could not see it."