The universe contained an infinite amount of questions.
Vision knew that it was mathematically impossible for him to have contemplated them all, but it felt as if he had. What he found to be most overwhelming was learning to balance logic and emotion, facts and feelings.
Fact: He is the true Vision.
This fact came easily to him, backed up by various points of evidence. The body he resided in was changed, but its base form is the Vision that perished during the battle with Thanos. He also now contained the memories of that original body. The Vision that he fought in Westview was created by a Hex— a Hex created by Wanda Maximoff that has now been disbanded. The Vision from Westview no longer exists. Thus— he is the one true Vision.
Feeling: He is not the true Vision.
This feeling could not be denied, but it directly conflicted with the very fact of his existence. There were simple differences that he could make note of: such as the visual discrepancies and the fact that he does not have the Mind Stone like the original body did. But it was more than that.
It was the unsettling feeling of being rebuilt. It was the uncomfortable feeling of being programmed to kill. It was the paradoxical clash within him that knew he was who he was because of the memories in his mind, but knowing they were placed there rather than experienced firsthand.
Did he have the right to call himself the true Vision? Did he have any other choice?
He remembered loving Wanda Maximoff. A memory and a feeling that was placed into his mind.
And he remembered taking her face in his hands and trying to crush her skull between his palms. That was a memory experienced firsthand.
This was Vision, but wrong. Manipulated. Created for something that goes against his very nature.
Wanda was on her own, living in a beautiful place. Vision had contemplated visiting her many times before he actually did, and as he gently landed in the green grass in front of her home, he wondered if he was doing the right thing.
The light wind rustled his cape as he stood like a statue, suddenly finding himself unable to make a decision. He no longer had any desire to hurt her, but his very presence could be hurtful. Perhaps this was a mistake.
