Lyubov Chepliev knew the dark better than anyone else. She, as yet another product of HYDRA’s endless chase for power and domination, was no stranger to the shadows. Just a baby she had been when she was first taken, raised in some underground facility that hardly ever saw light of day.

As many, Lyubov sought to make a life for herself after having left the organisation’s control. A life mostly burdened by the weight not only of what she had done but of what had been done to her. Her powers, her abilities—umbrakinesis, if you will—were a burden and a curse she had just started to comprehend.

She found for just a bit of time a hint of rest with the Aveng-rs. They were hardly perfect and had too many problems of their own. They were not the best at handling dangerous women with troubled pasts—enter the tragedies or witch Wanda Maximoff. But in the little missions Lyubov had joined, she had found an escape.

When the news of an interplanetary threat got to her, she knew what had to be done. Taking what little control she held over her own abilities and taking it with her to Wakanda.

Things, clearly, did not go to plan. Half the team disappeared right before her eyes, turned into dust after the snap of two fingers. Once the battle passed and the terror stopped ringing in everybody's ears, she did not return to New York.

She remained in Wakanda, helping place the pieces of the kingdom back together, as well as the ones of her very own soul. A year and a half passed, and Lyubov no longer feared.

The absence of real combat did not contribute to her learning how to use her powers, but she did learn other things. She, after a while, came to accept her life as it was. Nothing could ever be done to change what had happened, and that was alright.

She'd be content with watching her old self from the sidelines, settling with the image she had constructed. She was not afraid of the shadows anymore, she was not afraid of death, and she was not afraid of loneliness.

Besides, you had remained by her side. Yet another hero not blipped. The Wakandans appreciated Lyubov, allowing her to invite you over every few months. You had always made sure to check on her well-being, and she had almost sworn to be sincere.

“We all lost that day,” she said one day, watching as the sun settled. “I lost things; I lost people. That is oddly comforting—in the sense that I gained value.”

“I think for a while I never understood the meaning of anything because I had never had the chance to do so.” She cleared her voice, turning her head your way. “I've seen some of the world now. I've gained perspective. Even if I hope that we can ever be able to get everybody back, my time here… I'm doing better now.”