Earth, United Nations Emergency Chamber, Geneva
It was no longer a council, it was a funeral in session.
Ministers screamed across language barriers. Ambassadors wept into their palms. A delegate from Argentina collapsed from sheer panic. The Japanese foreign minister had to be sedated after trying to breach the security perimeter of one of the cathedrals in Tokyo. Only to be repelled by an invisible force that shattered the bones in his hand.
They had tried. Oh, they had tried.
High ranking officials, former generals, finance ministers, special envoys from world superpowers. Each had attempted to enter the temples they once mocked. Temples they had once called dangerous, cultist, illegal.
Now they were begging at their sealed gates.
None were allowed in.
Not one.
Washington, D.C. Secure SHIELD Briefing Room
Fury stood before a wall of monitors. His coat was unbuttoned. His tie was off. The bags under his eye were deep enough to be trench lines.
"Sir," Hill said, entering quietly. "They want a response. The WSC is demanding you speak at the next global address. Publicly. On behalf of... everything."
Fury didn't move for a long time.
Then:
"On behalf of everything?" he muttered. "Or on behalf of their failure?"
No one answered.
Behind him, the screens showed the world unraveling, cities half destroyed, emergency broadcasts looping, and across every time zone… footage of the temples.
Cathedrals of obsidian and divine latticework, shimmering with multicolored halos.
They were expanding.
Where there had once been hundreds, now there were thousands.
Most had emerged overnight. Others had grown from beneath foundations of collapsed churches, mosques, and fallen skyscrapers. Built by Markus's will alone.
The World, Streets and Broadcasts
Masses formed rivers around the temples.
They came barefoot. In rags. In wheelchairs. On prosthetics and bloodied feet.
Mothers carrying infants. Doctors with stethoscopes still around their necks. Soldiers in torn uniforms. Priests with burning questions and atheists who no longer had ground to stand on.
#Tenebrism was no longer a trend.
It was a flood.
Newscasters no longer spoke with confidence, only with awe. Anchors interviewed recovered believers from cities like Delhi, Vienna, São Paulo.
"He healed me," said one woman in Lagos. "He didn't even appeared. All i did was pray for salvation."
"We were in the blast zone," a child from Lisbon said. "The cathedral... it hummed. Nothing touched us. Not even dust."
In Lux, thousands were being relocated, the chosen among the faithful. They were greeted by Guardian Angels and ushered into homes constructed for pilgrims. Dragon Priests administered healing and food.
In one night, Markus created hundreds of temples.
Each one perfectly placed. Each one indestructible.
In Aurora Divina, the diplomatic halls had grown quieter. Many embassies were abandoned. Markus hadn't said a word to them since the last envoy visit.
And yet, from his throne in Arx Seraphim, he watched it all.
Not with disdain or amusement only with pure serenity.
Kamar Taj, The Mirror Garden
The dusk had grown long in the sanctum of Kamar Taj. Candles flickered beside aged scrolls and floating rings of starlight, suspended in midair for meditation. Yao sat motionless beneath the cherry tree, her tea untouched, eyes narrowed in thought.
Dr. Strange entered quietly, the Cloak of Levitation twitching with restrained urgency.
"Master," he said, his tone formal, more student than peer. "I need to speak with him."
Yao didn't ask who as she knew. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"You're not ready," she said softly.
"Earth isn't ready," Strange countered. "And it's already paying the price."
Yao looked away, toward the clouds, beyond the mountains.
"I once tried to enter his domain uninvited," she said. "It did not end well. He does not tolerate breaches. Or assumptions."
"Then ask," Strange said. "If he listens to anyone it's you."
Yao was silent for a moment longer.
Then she exhaled, centuries of wisdom folded into that single breath.
She sent the same thought thread Markus once used on her.
A respectful message.
There was no delay.
She felt his chuckle. Not with her ears, it reverberated across her soul.
And then.. The world blurred and they were gone.
Heaven, Arx Seraphim, Apex Spire
The summit of the tallest spire in Arx Seraphim was not marked by banners or gold. It was marked by silence, so profound, it felt like the air itself bowed in reverence. Wind curled around its edges like whispering silk, carrying no sound but the heartbeat of Heaven itself.
Two figures appeared by a silent invitation.
Yao blinked first, familiar now with the signature sensation of being moved without consent. She had not walked here. She had not even sensed the transition. One moment she was in Kamar Taj, the next, above the world.
Dr. Stephen Strange blinked as well, his Cloak twitching uneasily around his shoulders.
Before them stood a man.
Markus stood in his three piece black suit, silver hair tied back in absolute order, turquoise eyes radiant with calm omniscience. Behind him, the silhouette of Lux shimmered like a divine mirage on the horizon.
"Yao," Markus said, warm and cordial. "Still trying to breach domains uninvited?" he teased, eyes glittering with amusement.
Yao managed a smile. Bitter, weary. "I've learned."
"That's rare," he replied. Then turned to Strange. "Doctor."
Strange opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Markus gestured with an open palm. A circular obsidian table formed from the spire's stone, chairs followed, elegant, comfortable and perfect.
Onyx entered first, silently taking her place at Markus's right. Her white robes shimmered like woven nebulae. Sif followed, armored in dignified silver, her eyes measuring every nuance in the newcomers with restrained curiosity.
Markus sat.
"What will you have?" he asked casually.
"Tea, please" Yao said.
Markus smiled.
A teapot and five cups materialized, ivory porcelain, delicate silver inlay.
The scent drifted instantly. Floral, complex, and impossibly rich.
Strange inhaled. "What is this? It doesn't match any known varietal."
Markus poured calmly.
Vex Root, a rare plant from Illium that stimulates neuronal energy flow, enhancing cognitive speed.
Strange blinked and tried to remember where Illium was. He turned to the Ancient one to ask she sighed and said "not in this universe, Doctor."
They drank.
The silence that followed was respectful… until Strange spoke.
"Humanity has suffered enough," he said. "It's time. You have the power, therefore you need to intervene."
Yao closed her eyes in disappointment.
She had not briefed Strange enough. He had spoken like a mortal petitioning a storm, as if the storm owed him calm.
Across the table:
Onyx raised a single eyebrow.Sif sighed, her fingers gently drumming the side of her cup.Markus smiled, slow and dangerous.
"Need, Doctor Strange," he repeated. "That's a flexible word. Often mistaken for entitlement."
He set his teacup down with a gentle click. He looked first to Yao, and in her eyes, he saw it. Not arrogance or entitlement, but a plea.
Silent. Measured. Genuine.
Markus chuckled, low and warm, like distant thunder rolling over a distant battlefield.
"Let me show you," he said simply.
Before Strange could ask what, the world twisted.
Their minds were drawn, by Markus's will. And suddenly, they saw it.
Vision, The World That Could Have Been
A timeline that never came to pass. The Sokovia Accords were rewritten as protections. A mutual agreement, forged with the Avengers' guidance, and Markus's confirmation.
When Eden Industries offered assistance, the UN welcomed it. Diplomacy flourished. Lux became an international sanctuary, not a refuge for only the faithful.
And when the Black Order approached, when the rift cracked open above Earth's sky, they were met not with panic, but preparedness.
The Chitauri were annihilated before they touched Earth's soil.Ebony Maw was frozen in a containment field designed by Eden R&D.The temples were not sanctuaries of his worshippers only, but centers of world unity.
Earth stood proud beneath Heaven's aegis. The people believed not out of fear… but understanding.
Then the vision shattered, fading like smoke in wind. Back on the spire, Markus leaned forward slightly, his turquoise eyes now glowing faintly with cold brilliance.
"Tell me, Doctor," he said, his voice soft and sharp. "Should I spoil humanity after their disrespect, and encourage more of this behavior?"
Strange tried to speak. Markus raised a finger.
"Not all are perishing, you might know," he continued, tone cooling to glacial detachment. "My worshippers, they are safe. Fed. Healed. Sheltered. They ask for nothing. I provide everything."
"And for the rest?" he tilted his head slightly. "I am not their god."
He stood now, towering over the table, one hand resting behind his back.
"So, tell me, Doctor Stephen Strange, whose name barely echoes in the annals of any realm. Why should I intervene?"
His smile disappeared.
"Because a spoiled surgeon, who has not held the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme for even a decade, now stands on my domain and demands it of me?"
His final words dropped like obsidian into a frozen lake:
"I am not here to correct your arrogance human. I am here to watch it burn."
Strange said nothing.
Onyx exhaled quietly. Sif looked away.
And Yao… only closed her eyes.
Before Strange could even shape a response, Yao stood.
Her motion was smooth, graceful even now, though her expression had sharpened into something more ancient, more unmistakably serious. She turned to Markus and met his gaze. Two entities who had once stood on the knife's edge of confrontation, and understood each other in ways words could never replicate.
"He's still young," she said, quietly. "And... arrogant, in the way only bright minds allowed too much power too early tend to be."
Markus arched one brow, bemused but silent.
Yao turned then, slowly, to Stephen Strange, her tone cooling into steel.
"I told you never provoke this one," she said, firmly. "You're standing before a being who has erased timelines and ruled realities. Can't you feel it, Stephen? His divinity bleeds through the walls."
"You don't make demands of gods. Especially not the ones who've stopped playing by cosmic rules."
Strange swallowed.
The Cloak of Levitation even fluttered once, like a scolded child inching behind its master.
"Right," he muttered, clearing his throat, adjusting the edge of his tunic. "Lesson learned. Possibly tattooed into my very soul."
Markus didn't speak. He simply waited.
And so, Strange inhaled, squared his shoulders, and tried again.
"With all due respect," he said, each word chosen with care, "I ask for your help. If not through direct action, then through your cathedrals. The world is falling apart. People are lost. I'm not here to challenge your will. I'm asking as... a student of reality. And as the newly appointed Sorcerer Supreme."
Markus leaned back into his seat. A faint smile pulled at the edge of his mouth, whether out of amusement or satisfaction was impossible to tell.
Sif sipped her tea quietly, one brow lifted.Onyx tilted her head and smiled faintly.Yao, at last, sat down again, expression unreadable, but not disappointed.
Markus drummed a single finger on the obsidian table, once.
"Better," he said softly.
He glanced between Yao and Strange.
"Then tell me," he said, his voice patient, dangerously so. "What exactly do you want from me?"
Strange straightened again, no longer bracing himself, but still speaking with care.
"The threat of the Mad Titan Thanos needs to be removed. Or at least… diffused."
Yao gave a single nod. No flourish. Just fact.
Markus looked at them both, his turquoise eyes unreadable. Then he sighed softly, as if this were just another chore in a long day.
Onyx stepped in silently and refilled his cup, the aromatic Vex Root steam curling upward. She looked to Yao.
"Would you like another, Master Yao?"
"Please," Yao replied, her tone calm now. The tension had bled from the room.
Sif leaned slightly toward the edge of the table, watching her lover with the same mix of admiration and curiosity she always tried and failed to hide.
Markus stared into his teacup for a moment. "Humanity," he muttered, "is terminally spoiled. Every disaster met with divine intervention, and every miracle met with entitlement."
He set the cup aside.
"So be it."
He turned his head slightly. His eyes didn't glow, nor did the world shake.
But elsewhere, the end began.
Earth, Global Theaters of Invasion
In New York, a Black Order dreadnought tore through a skyscraper.
And then it stopped, mid air. The ship shimmered, twisted and without sound or explosion atomized into iridescent particles, scattering like golden pollen in the wind.
In Paris, Cull Obsidian was charging through a street when his body simply disassembled, his limbs folding into themselves, his molecules unraveling like forgotten yarn.
In Cairo, Proxima Midnight's spear dissolved in her hand before she did. Vanishing in layers, her final scream unheard by anyone but the sand.
Every last Chitauri soldier, drone, and construct on Earth and in orbit was undone in seconds. No fire, no thunder, just removal.
Across every screen, from Tokyo to Rio de Janeiro, the footage was the same.
The destruction paused.
Then reversed.
Buildings reformed, brick by brick, steel by steel. Rewinding through reality until they stood as though untouched.
Burned bodies were restored. Craters were filled. Skies cleared.
No announcement were made, no speeches given. Yet they knew, everyone knew.
The cathedrals began to fill again, this time not with desperation, but with zeal.
Men and women wept on their knees.
Children clutched symbols of Tenebrism, carved by hand or drawn on fabric.
News anchors openly prayed on live broadcasts.
Arx Seraphim, Apex Spire
Markus sat quietly, sipping from his cup again.
"There," he said with faint detachment. "Mess removed. Toys returned to the shelf."
Then he turned to Yao.
"Do you want the Mad Titan as well?"
Yao met his gaze. She didn't blink.
"Yes."
Markus didn't move.
And yet, the light in the room dimmed for a heartbeat, then returned.
Between them, Thanos appeared. Standing confused, the replica stones still in his gauntlet, his mind reeling from the sudden displacement.
Markus stood and approached him, standing at the same height, two of them were a sight.
"Let's have a chat." he said.
Markus sighed like a bored headmaster.
A dark, obsidian chair shimmered into existence across the table.
"Sit," he said, gesturing lazily.
The figure obeyed.
Markus leaned slightly forward, elbows resting on the table, fingers steepled.
"What happened on Titan, while tragic, is not a standard model of cosmic entropy," Markus began, his tone clipped and perfectly level. "Your planet failed due to mismanagement, not mathematical inevitability."
Thanos blinked. Markus continued.
"And now here you are, parading around with your clunky philosophy and your gauntlet. Talking about saving the universe by killing half of it."
He paused. Then scoffed.
"Why not just double the resources? Restructure energy flow? Reverse ecological collapse?"
The gauntleted hand twitched slightly.
Before the the titan could answer, Markus pressed on, voice sharpening.
"Let's say, for the sake of humor, you did collect all six stones."
He waved a hand dismissively toward the golden gauntlet.
"You have the power to reshape existence. Reality. Time. Matter. Death. Thought."
A long pause.
"And your grand plan… is to snap away people like they're overdue paperwork?"
Onyx stifled a laugh behind a raised hand.Sif blinked once, slowly, her lips quirking at the absurdity.Yao merely closed her eyes and shook her head.
Strange leaned toward Sif and whispered, "Is this real?"
"Oh, it's real," she murmured back, arms folded, "and somehow more awkward than I expected."
Markus stood then and reached forward.
With a single brush of his fingers, the Infinity Stones, four radiant motes of impossible power lifted from the gauntlet one by one, like obedient birds returning to a true master.
They hovered between them, then vanished in a soft pulse of light.
"No stones for you," Markus said, matter of factly. "You're mad."
He gestured toward the air.
The figure blinked again, confused, still processing.
"Also," Markus added casually, "you no longer orbit Earth. I moved your ship. Enjoy farming quietly."
With a thought, the titan disappeared. Simply redirected, as effortlessly as misplacing a thought.
The spire was silent again. Markus exhaled contently and returned to his seat.
"Honestly, the things I have to deal with just to keep this universe from tripping over its own shoelaces."
Yao raised her teacup. "You handled it... politely."
"I'm a polite being." Markus said with a smile.
Strange sat back, lips parted slightly. "That was... weirdly satisfying."
"Welcome to divinity," Onyx said with a wink.
Heaven, Arx Seraphim, Final Hours in the MCU
The great spires of Heaven loomed behind him like silent monuments to dominion. Markus stood at the edge of a portal. It was crafted not by space magic or quantum math, but by narrative will.
But before stepping through, he allowed himself a final indulgence.
"Let's see how the story's closing."
With a thought, he vanished from the apex of Arx Seraphim and began his quiet, sarcastic farewell tour.
New York City, Avengers Tower (Still Half Rebuilt)
Markus appeared in the middle of Stark Tower's upper level, precisely as Tony was sipping espresso and skimming multiverse threat protocols.
Tony choked on his cup.
"Please tell me this is a hallucination caused by caffeine withdrawal."
Markus looked around with faint distaste.
"Still hasn't fixed the furniture. Billionaire genius, my foot."
Tony blinked. "Did you just come here to insult my chairs?"
"I came to see if there was anything worth saving," Markus replied. "So far, it's looking like a tax write off."
He turned to leave, then paused.
"You were the only one who tried to keep this circus upright. I'll give you that. Almost admirable. Almost."
And he vanished.
Wakanda, Throne Room (Now Under Undead Stewardship)
Markus stood briefly before the ornate throne, which now served as a perch for two Vampire Lords and a pair of Lich Overlords.
Bastet, panther form divine pet of leisure glanced up from her silk laden dais and gave a lazy blink.
Markus bowed slightly. "Wakanda forever," he muttered dryly.
One of the Liches looked in confusion.
"Don't worry," Markus said. "It's a cultural thing."
He scratched Bastet behind the ear and disappeared.
Asgard (Now Under Loki's Nervous Reign)
Markus strolled into the throne room unannounced.
Loki, still in his Odin disguise nearly fell off the throne.
"No need to kneel, Allfather," Markus smirked. "I just came to remind you that your acting career is still more convincing than your divine one."
Loki opened his mouth. Closed it.
"Good lad," Markus added. "Keep pretending. It's adorable."
And then, gone.
Kamar Taj, Sanctum Courtyard
Strange was meditating.
Markus appeared directly in front of him, floating upside down.
"Boo."
Strange flinched. Again.
Markus rolled upright and hovered cross legged.
"Just checking. Still not ready."
Strange sighed. "I thought you were leaving."
"I am. But tradition dictates one final dramatic visitation. Sorcerers and their ego."
"You're one to talk," Strange muttered.
"Difference is, mine is earned."
With a parting nod to Wong, who was wisely pretending to be busy, Markus vanished.
Undisclosed Safehouse, New York
Fury was exactly where Markus expected him to be: seated in a dim room, walls lined with screens, whisky untouched, pistol within reach, not out of fear, just habit.
Markus didn't knock. He simply appeared. Fury didn't flinch.
"Came to gloat?"
Markus wandered past the desk, eyeing the screens showing Lux, Sokovia, and the still glowing cathedral in Tokyo.
"Gloating implies I needed to prove something. I've already moved past that phase."
Fury exhaled through his nose.
"The world's still standing, no thanks to us."
Markus raised a brow. "And still spinning, mostly thanks to me."
He paused.
"You started with hubris, tried to hold the line. You failed. But you tried. That's worth… a half point."
Fury snorted. "What's next, a participation ribbon?"
Markus smirked.
"No. Just the satisfaction of knowing you're one of the few who saw the cliff edge and said something, even when no one listened."
He turned, already fading.
"You did well, for a mortal."
Fury finally lifted the glass, saluted silently, and drank.
Final Stop, Earth Orbit, Over Heaven
From space, Heaven glowed like a divine brand on Earth's surface. Sharp, flawless, incorruptible.
Markus stood in orbit, arms folded, Onyx on one side, Sif on the other. Behind them, a small escort of shimmering dragons and WL1 elites waited silently.
"A chaotic world," he murmured. "But entertaining. Like watching mortals play chess with their own lives."
Onyx smiled. "They'll talk about you forever."
Sif chuckled softly. "Will they survive your absence?"
Markus raised a brow. "Do I look like a motivational speaker?"
He raised a hand.
The veil between realities began to open silently, smoothly.
"Time to see what the next tale offers."
And with that, he stepped through.