Where Wanda prefers wide open spaces, she heeds Gwenaëlle and follows to take cover. (When has she ever needed cover when there were empty, unused cars to throw at men in suits? When there was Wakandan earth to dig up with the brute force of her mind and throw at spinning wheels?)

Who knew hiding behind a statue would be efficient? She's seen them topple and crush the pavement below, killing Sokovian flowerbeds and becoming home to weeds. She doesn't like grasping the base of a stone statue as she peers around the bend to take note of Gwenaëlle's correct information, but she trusts the skeletons to keep her safe. The dead always do.

The demons rush out like the dead once did in Wundagore, but none of them slithers her way, sensing her and her dark magic corrupting the universe around them. For now, she's safe between a stone wall and a stone statue. It won't last.

Think, think, think, Wanda. Think.

Her palms glow red. "What is it that you can do?"

It's better to complement someone rather than go in independently.