This, thought Vision, must be what humans meant by cosmic justice. Their first night in Westview, Wanda had tried to throw a dinner party, and what a disaster that had been. She’d puppeted their neighbors around, making them play the role of Vision’s boss and the man’s wife. Now, the tables were turned, and it was Wanda being puppeted and controlled. She was on her knees on the living room floor, her face buried between the thighs of Mrs. Heart while Mr. Heart thrust deeply into her ass from behind. The collar around Wanda’s neck, made by the Avengers, Vision was pretty sure, Tony Stark maybe, not only kept her magic turned off, but it also allowed them to play with her mind, the way she’d once played with everyone else’s. While the Hearts shared his wife, Vision glanced around the room, smiling politely at the other guests, all of whom were watching the show and waiting their turn. At least twenty neighbors had shown up, all eager for their chance to get revenge on the Scarlett Witch.

Uther had never told Morgana she was his daughter. He had hoped never to tell her, to call her his “ward” for as long as he could. It would keep the peace, make things easier. But now that he knew Morgana had magic, there really was no easy way to handle any of this anymore. Which was how he ended up here, coming to visit his “ward” in the dungeons where he’d imprisoned the beautiful raven-haired woman the night before. He sighed as he approached the bars. She was far too beautiful to be locked up, but what else could he do? “I wish it didn’t have to be this way, Morgana,” he said, reaching through the bars to stroke her hair. “But I will find a way to cure you. I promise you that. I will find a way to remove the magic from your body if it’s the last thing I do.” Then he looked to his guards. “Strip her,” he ordered. “And bind her to the table.” He pointed to a wooden table within the cell.

Morgana pulled back as he touched her hair. "You're a monster, Uther." She spat out at him, tugging on her chains to get away from him. When the guards stepped inside, she struggled harder in an attempt to get out of her chains. Not that it mattered, even if she did escape the chains, the collar still kept her magic from her. "Don't touch me, cowards!"

The collar around his neck supressed his magic, his mouth gagged and arms bound behind his back as he was transported in a cage. They weren't taking any chances with him. After days of travel with bandits, Merlin was dropped on his knees in front of Camelot's king. He'd spent days in terror, no idea what was happening or where he was. The bandits hadn't spoken much, mainly focused on trying to force Merlin's magic to manifest even with the collar on. They got Merlin to make a window open and shut, using both fear and physical pain to force it. Every horror story that his mother had ever told him started racing through his mind, starting to beg this man not to kill him from behind the gag.