The world stood on the brink of change. Whether it was Earth or Asgard, they had to prepare themselves for powerful enemies from beyond the sea of stars.
The curtain of peace had been drawn back, and the winds of a new age howled. Some heard them; others had yet to awaken.
The rumbling wheels slowly began to turn. No one could say where they would lead, only wait for change to arrive with either anticipation or unease.
Sokovia was like most small Eastern European countries: its regime was unstable, its economy had collapsed, the divide between the upper class and ordinary people was stark, and conflicts ran deep. Large-scale demonstrations frequently broke out.
The Maximoff siblings lived in such a country. Before they turned ten, they had both felt warm and happy, never caring that they had been born into a poor family without expensive toy cars or delicate dolls.
That day was no different from any other. The family of four sat around the table, enjoying a modest but tasty dinner, when the nightmare descended without a sound.
The warlord on the outskirts of the city had finally been unable to suppress his ambitions for power and launched an armed coup. Sokovia fell into chaos. Government troops clashed fiercely with private militias, artillery thundered, bullets rained down, and war blanketed everyone in an instant.
The Maximoff family did not escape disaster. The first shell punched a huge hole through the floors two levels below, and their parents fell through it. Then the entire house began to collapse. Pietro grabbed his sister Wanda first, and the two rolled beneath the bed. The second shell fell immediately afterward, landing amid the rubble and ruins.
That unexploded shell lay only a meter away from the Maximoff siblings. Pietro held Wanda tightly