Heaven, Arx Seraphim
The sky above Arx Seraphim shimmered faintly as Markus returned to his sanctum. His presence was immediate, divine pressure rippling through the realm like gravity being rewritten. Onyx and Sif were already waiting, drawn by instinct more than summons.
Markus stood calmly before them, his tall form casting a silhouette against the obsidian glass horizon.
"It is done," he said, voice even. "The last of them is mine."
There was no need to elaborate. Onyx understood instantly.
Her eyes lit with something rare, joy. Not shock. Not reverence.
But deep, quiet pride.
"The Soul Stone," she whispered.
She stepped forward with fluid grace, and though her frame was delicate next to his divine build, she reached for him without hesitation. Her voice softened as she touched his chest.
"When you return, everything will be as you left it."
Markus looked down at her, his most loyal, his first creation given flesh and will.
He smiled.
And without a word, he slipped an arm around her waist and lifted her effortlessly into his arms. Her light gasp melted into silence as he drew her close and kissed her deeply, a long, claiming kiss laced with something gentler than command.
It was intimacy without hesitation.
Sif watched the exchange, motionless.
She had known Markus as a warrior, a god, a being beyond understanding.
But this.. this display left her quietly stunned.
Not with jealousy. But with confusion.
She had heard of the Infinity Stones, of course, artifacts of unspeakable power.
But she had never known their number.
She had never understood that Markus had been collecting them.
When Markus finally turned to her, his eyes briefly lingered with that same fierce warmth.
She felt her breath catch slightly as he stepped close.
He tilted her chin upward and kissed her as well, slower, softer.
She let him. She didn't speak. Couldn't.
And then he vanished, gone in an instant.
Sif stood silent for a few moments, trying to process the whirlwind of affection and gravity.
Finally, she turned to Onyx, eyes narrowing slightly.
"What... was that?"
Onyx didn't smile. But her gaze held calm certainty.
"That," she said, "was the moment your world changed."
The light was low within the crystalline chamber, only starlight refracting softly through the ceiling's open latticework. Onyx stood by the central projection dais, hands clasped behind her back, posture still as an obsidian statue.
Sif stepped forward, her jaw tight with unspoken questions, the kiss still fresh on her lips, but the truth now nagging louder.
"I want to know more," she said, not as a warrior, but as a woman navigating a world no longer made of steel and valor. "About him. About… all of this."
Onyx turned to her. For a moment, she said nothing, her eyes studying the Vanir warrior carefully, weighing trust against function.
Then she nodded once.
"You deserve to know," Onyx said quietly. "At least... what I know."
She began simply.
"I was born not as flesh, but code. Crafted in a far future world of warships, alien fleets, and dying stars. He created me to oversee a vessel unlike any in that galaxy. I was designed to control its power, its AI network, and its war bound purpose."
Sif frowned slightly, already processing.
"You were… artificial."
"Then," Onyx confirmed. "Now, no longer. He gave me a body. Then a mind. Then choice."
She paused.
"Before me… there was another world. One of swords and monsters. He ruled it with an iron grip, crushing kings, knights, and mages beneath absolute tyranny."
Sif inhaled quietly, the weight of those words digging into her spine.
"He told me of that realm only in fragments," Onyx continued. "But I've seen it now. He took me there once, to show me what power looks like when it is unopposed."
Onyx turned, projecting a map of faint starlight and arcane glyphs.
"Then there was another world. Dungeon gates. Hunters. Monarchs. He learned their abilities there, not merely weapons. The art of summoning. Portals. Soul based dominations."
Sif's eyes narrowed.
"He summons beasts?"
"No," Onyx replied with calm finality. "He summons nightmares."
Then came the next tale.
"There was a world ruled by a corrupted goddess, one who measured power in stolen skill. He did not kill her. He broke her will. Bound her. Tamed her. And rewrote the system she governed."
Onyx's voice softened.
Sif's mind reeled, yet Onyx wasn't finished.
She took a step closer now, lowering her tone.
"Then came the lands of cowards. A kingdom of hidden behind technology, deep beneath a jungle throne. They came to him with lies and deception. He broke them, bound their patron goddess."
Sif blinked. "He… bound a goddess?"
Onyx nodded.
"Bastet. She who once drank the praise of her people now purrs at his command. He did not destroy her. He domesticated her."
"That's not possible," Sif murmured.
"And yet it happened," Onyx said with a warm, knowing smile.
The chamber was quiet now, save for the hum of runic light and Sif's shallow breath.
Each revelation was heavier than the last, realms conquered, powers repurposed, divinities bent.
And she had kissed him. Let him hold her. She gave herself to this entity. Felt honored by it.
Sif stood silent, her honor no longer a compass, but a question.
And Onyx, still calm, still composed, added one last whisper:
"You see him as a man who can break armies with a thought."
"I see him as the end of what gods thought they could be."
Noctorrius Primus, Throne Room
Activating Chrono Condensation, Markus entered his private realm, where time flowed differently. Here, he had left Seraphiel, the goddess he had tamed, to oversee the realm in his absence. Now, he would absorb the soul stone in solitude, preparing for the final transformation.
Markus sit at his throne, the Soul Stone levitating before him, emanating a profound, orange glow. As he reached out, the stone dissolved into tendrils of light, merging with his essence.
The absorption was not merely physical; it was a metaphysical integration. The stone's sentience intertwined with Markus's consciousness, unveiling truths and memories from countless souls. He experienced the weight of sacrifices, the essence of life and death, and the interconnectedness of all beings.
As the Soul Stone's power fused with Markus, several of his existing skills underwent transformation:
Soul Nexus: Enhanced to allow the summoning of hybrid units and undead entities, now without a limit and the ability to bind souls permanently.
Soul Vortex: Expanded to absorb souls of his worshippers through planets and dimensions, redistributing their power, skills and experiences among his legions.
As the final whispers of the Soul Stone merged with him, Markus's eyes opened, now glowing with a turquoise hue, reflecting an infinite depth of wisdom.
Skill Acquired: Dominus Anima
Grants Markus unparalleled dominion over souls, allowing him to manipulate, bind, or obliterate them at will.
Abilities:
Anima Comprehension: Instantly understand the soul's structure and history.
Soulwalk: Traverse spiritual realms and interact with souls across dimensions.
Perfect Resurrection: Restore any soul bearing entity with full memory and essence.
Essence Rend: Shatter a soul across existence, preventing any form of revival.
Dominion Gate: Open conduits to spiritual realms, summoning or banishing souls.
With the integration of all six Infinity Stones, Markus's being transcended. His race evolved from Elder God to Supreme Entity. All his attributes, Strength, Agility, Endurance, Wisdom, Intelligence, and Luck ascended to EX rank. His Divinity generation increased to 10,000 per stone per day, totaling 60,000 daily, excluding the faith of his worshippers.
The chamber pulsed with newfound energy as Markus stood, now the embodiment of absolute power and wisdom.
He stood at the edge of the blackhole he had created, where time bent to his whim and stars flickered like fireflies caught in glass.
Before him floated a burning sigil of perfect symmetry, Dominus Anima. Its final echo fading like incense in cold air.
He read the inscription in silence.
"Fitting," he murmured, voice low and tranquil.
But before the silence could settle again, a tone chimed in the void.
System Alert
[Notice: Skill Tree Update. Fusion Protocol Triggered.]
Golden scripts, engraved with divine authority, unfurled before him. He watched, hands clasped behind his back, as the names of his former powers appeared, each one glowing briefly before dissolving like mist.
Voidwalker
Annihilation Pulse
Time Dominion
Mind Dominion
Veritas Rex
Dominus Anima
And then, more:
Rule
Bestow
Insight
Soul Nexus
Divine Reaper
Omniscient Awareness
Mana Conduit
Divine Subspace Creation
Blitz
All of them flickered… and vanished.
The status window flickered, collapsing under its own weight until only one name remained, centered in perfect alignment.
A single glyph. A single word.
Origin
Everything that was once separate, scattered fragments of power, purpose, and principle was now woven into one.
He stood still.
Then slowly reopened his status screen.
[STATUS]
Name: Markus Tenebris
Codename: Ghost
Titles: Lord of the Undead · Master of Shadows · Godling · Reality Shaper · Spectre · Realm Architect · Infinity Wielder · Elder God · Origin Sovereign
Race: Supreme Entity
Domain: Origin
Level: EX
Core Attributes
Strength: EX
Agility: EX
Endurance: EX
Intelligence: EX
Wisdom: EX
Luck: EX
Divinity: 850,000,000+ (60,000 per day from Infinity Stones. Rest of the points from his worshippers across realms.)
Skills
Origin: Grants Markus total dominion over existence, space, time, power, mind, reality, and soul. All former skills replaced and transcended. Reality conforms to his narrative. Power systems submit. Timelines realign. Souls kneel. No restriction applies. No higher law exists.
Origin is the culmination of Markus's absorption of all six Infinity Stones and the ascension to the rank of Supreme Entity. This singular, absolute skill fuses the totality of:
Voidwalker (Space) - Annihilation Pulse (Power) - Time Dominion (Time) - Mind Dominion (Mind) - Veritas Rex (Reality) - Dominus Anima (Soul)
It replaces and exceeds all previous functions. It does not obey the metaphysical laws of any universe and is immune to narrative, magical, divine, or cosmic suppression.
Markus, through Origin, does not simply use powers, he becomes the framework upon which all power systems rest.
Passive Effects
Omni Structure Comprehension: Instantly understands the structure of any concept: physical, abstract, divine, or narrative (power systems, timelines, magic systems and AI code).
Transcendent Form: Physical body and soul are no longer bound by dimensional structure. Cannot be wounded, sealed, erased, or rewritten. Exists outside fate, probability, and reality indexing.
EX Attributes (All)
All core stats, Strength, Agility, Endurance, Wisdom, Intelligence, Luck exist in a tier beyond measurement. No numerical system can define them.
Infinity Core
Passively generates 60,000 Divinity per day from the Stones alone. Cannot be depleted or drained by any known force. Worship based Divinity remains additional.
Existential Authority
Any realm or plane Markus enters begins to rewrite itself subtly to align with his truth. Resistant worlds only delay the inevitable.
Active Effects
Origin Rewrite: Rewrite the laws of any system, realm, species, item, event, or being permanently and flawlessly. Cannot be countered, reversed, or traced. If desired, can be hidden from all divine, magical, or narrative perception.
Chrono Genesis: Collapse, rewind, accelerate, or parallelize timelines, including narrative threads. Time paradox immunity. Can extract events from alternate timelines and make them canon.
Soul Dominion Protocol: Resurrect, erase, split, bind, or forge souls, including those of deities or narrative anchors. Can summon or erase entire soul based armies or pantheons.
Reality Convergence: Layer multiple realities into one or fracture one into many. Multiversal overwrite is possible without instability. Markus's will becomes the dominant continuity.
Mindforge Overlord: Enforce new identities, beliefs, ideologies, or personalities on a target or population. Can selectively edit memories across an entire planets or delete them.
Annihilation Continuum: Summon infinite grade destructive pulses tuned to bypass all defenses, narrative protections, and conceptual armors. Targets cease to exist across all timelines and dimensions.
Subdomain Creation: Markus may create sealed sub realities governed by his laws. Time, physics, magic, morality, and mortality are rewritten within. These realms can act as prisons, paradises, or test zones.
Origin Command Chain: All his summons are linked into a perfect synchronization matrix. Without an upper limit to summon his units may be deployed simultaneously, each operating at peak efficiency.
Divine Title Gained: Origin Sovereign
Recognized by all metaphysical systems as the Absolute Arbiter of Power, Law, and Existence.
Unique & Strategic Abilities
Apex Fusion Protocol: Fully integrates Mass Effect classes (Engineer, Sentinel, Infiltrator, Vanguard, Adept, Soldier). Continuous adaptive combat superiority and auto counter capabilities. Markus added skills and experiences of thousands of special force unit's combined experience of military disciplines and skills.
Inventory, Domains, & Strategic Assets
Raven (Flagship): Reaper Tech enhanced warship featuring 20 Sovereign class lasers, triple layered defensive arrays, and perfect stealth capabilities.
Collector Base Domain: Fully controlled subspace territory extending 100 AU radius from the base, reshaped into Markus's sovereign realm.
Witcher World Subspace Domain: Entire Witcher world encapsulated securely within subspace, granting total control, protection, and access to unique resources.
Living In This World With Cut & Paste world Subspace Domain: Entire Living In This World With Cut & Paste world turned to a eternal war domain between humans and monsters.
Noctorrius Primus: A fully converted realm supervising and governing the Living In This World With Cut & Paste world
---
He nodded once, serene satisfaction gracing his sharp features.
"Much better."
He vanished, leaving behind silence.
Heaven – Arx Seraphim, Throne of Silence
Markus returned to Heaven, the seat of his dominion, the world once called Greenland. Time, which had lain frozen under the weight of Chrono Condensation, now resumed its slow breath.
He stood atop the highest spire of Arx Seraphim, his arms folded behind his back, his gaze cast beyond the mortal sphere.
Reality unfurled before him like an open scroll.
He saw it all.
From the swirl of electrons in a candle's flicker on Kamar Taj, to the gravitational hymns of binary stars in galaxies a thousand light years away. From the flick of a coin on Earth to the birth of stars in dead systems long forgotten. There was no longer "distance." No longer "scale."
The universe breathed, and he heard its heartbeat.
Entities began to shimmer into his awareness, not through summons or visions, but by existing within the scope of his perception.
Death, drifting as veiled elegance across dying suns.
Phoenix Force, coiled in primordial flame at the edge of causality.
The Living Tribunal, silent and stagnant, frozen by comparison.
Eternity, a galaxy shaped titan, contemplative and vast.
Infinity, Oblivion, Master Chaos, Lord Order, and the ancient Beyonders, threads in the weave he now casually held between his fingers.
He watched. And smiled faintly.
"Overqualified," he murmured to no one in particular.
The MCU, this reality had been a proving ground.
A crucible. A game. He was done here.
And yet, just as he prepared to leave, a stray thought surfaced. A wry one.
I should send a fruit basket to the One Above All.
And the moment the thought crystallized, a strange.. warmth unfurled through him.
It wasn't power or divinity.
Something older, yet softer.
A reverent pause.
Markus, the Origin Sovereign, stood still.
I don't know if it's Stan Lee… or Jack Kirby…Or if the concept itself is fragmented across panels and ink and digital frames. But I thank them.
For the multiverses. For the fiction. For the canvas they gave us all.
He closed his eyes, not in meditation, but in quiet respect.
"To the storytellers," he whispered. "Who built gods long before I bent them."
A single nod.
And then he opened his turquoise eyes once more. Serene, infinite, and ready.
Heaven awaited.
And beyond it, other stories.
Kamar Taj, The Upper Courtyard
As the afternoon sun drifted over the high ridges of the Himalayas, a breeze stirred the wind chimes strung along the awnings of Kamar Taj. Yao, the Ancient One, sat cross legged at her usual vantage, a teapot gently steaming beside her, the surface of the tea undisturbed by time or wind.
A question floated through the air, silent and unseen.
"Is this still a place where truth is served with tea?"
She exhaled slowly and, after a moment, replied aloud with the same words as before.
"When truth is welcome."
The instant the words left her lips, the air shifted.
Markus stood beside her, elegant in his black three piece suit, his silver hair pulled neatly back, turquoise eyes calm, unreadable. He looked down at the Ancient One and offered her a familiar smile. Half amicable, half predatory.
"Yao," he said. "How is the Sorcerer of Surgeons handling his first dance with destiny?"
Yao regarded him for a moment. No surprise. No flinch. Just the measured pause of someone who had seen far too much to pretend at ignorance.
She poured a second cup of tea and handed it to him.
"You've done it, haven't you?" she asked quietly. "You're no longer within this universe. You're above it."
Markus accepted the cup with a polite nod and took a slow sip.
"It tastes better now," he noted, amused. "Everything does."
She looked past him to the sky.
"You were always beyond our definitions. But now… you're not just a diverging timeline. You're a different law entirely."
Markus didn't answer.
He simply sipped.
"Thanos is on his way," he said after a moment. "He's collected the Power, Reality, and The Soul Stones."
"The Soul Stone?" Yao echoed, eyes narrowing. "You mean…"
Markus grinned.
Yao was silent for a moment. Her hand curled slightly on the teacup, the only outward sign of alarm.
"You said you'd help us when the time came," she said softly.
Markus leaned back slightly.
"I did. And I would have, if the global clowns hadn't signed a legal leash and told me I was too dangerous to act freely."
"The Sokovia Accords."
"The very ones." Markus looked up at the sky. "Now they can handle this on their own. Or crawl back in desperation. Perhaps I'll be in the mood to listen."
Yao closed her eyes.
"Humanity never learns. Not truly."
Her voice carried no bitterness, only exhaustion.
"Every time power gathers, so does arrogance. They look to control what they do not understand, label it, bind it, make it palatable. Until the universe reminds them that they are ants trying to fence fire."
Markus offered no rebuttal. Just a slow smile.
"You drink your tea while the bonfire grows. Admirable."
Yao opened her eyes again.
"Do you mock us?"
"Not mockery," Markus said, standing. "Reflection."
She watched him with a gaze that felt older than time.
"Then tell me, how do I make them understand? What must be done to break this cycle?"
Markus looked down at her, his expression curiously thoughtful.
"Sometimes, Yao, understanding only arrives after the smoke clears. Or after the ashes cool. You've spoiled humanity by protecting them while leaving them in the dark."
He turned, hands folded behind his back.
"Let them suffer."
And with that, he vanished, leaving only the taste of tea, the sound of wind, and a world growing closer to its reckoning.
Heaven, Arx Seraphim
Markus returned to Heaven in silence, the spires of Arx Seraphim rising like silent heralds of perfection against the backdrop of the divine sky. Onyx and Sif flanked him as always. One devoted by design, the other by the slow fire of choice.
They passed an afternoon of rare peace, the three of them reclining in the garden veranda, fine nectar poured, roses in bloom, the scent of vanilla dust and lilies drifting between them.
It was Sif who spoke first.
"She told me… about the other worlds," she said softly, her eyes focused on the horizon. "I'd like to see them."
Markus turned to her, arching a brow, amusement playing at the edge of his smile.
"And you, Onyx?" he asked.
Onyx's answer was a smile, warm, radiant, enough.
And with that, Markus moved them.
The world blinked. And they were gone.
The Witcher World, Vizima, Palace Gardens
Time had passed in this world. What once was a broken realm plagued by superstition and rot was now vibrant, controlled, exact.
The College had produced thousands of elite agents, Witchers of the New Order, blessed not by trial and mutation but by doctrine and purpose. Their crests bore Markus's sigil, their minds shaped by scriptures written in his name. Magic users worshipping him.
As they toured, nobles bowed in silent awe, priests in silver and black whispered hymns in forgotten Elder Speech.
Markus walked with Onyx and Sif between marble columns. He had rewritten this world with cold clarity, abolished its chaos, taught it discipline.
Sif said nothing. But she looked. She saw.
The people were not afraid. They were reverent.
Devoted.
The Mass Effect Universe, Voidwatch Castle
They appeared within throne room, the towering fortress Markus had forged in the shattered ruins of galactic order.
Behind the panoramic window: the singularity, vast and silent.
And floating beside it, ageless and perfect was Raven, the war vessel born to house a god.
Onyx's eyes shimmered. She stepped forward, reaching for the glass as if touching a memory.
"This is where I was born," she said, voice barely a whisper. "Where I woke. Where I saw you first."
Markus stood quietly beside her.
Far beyond, the Protheans were thriving again, rebuilt by Markus's design, their extinct genome restored, their cities now orbiting reconstructed planets.
Citadel politics had long dissolved into irrelevance.
Markus didn't rule this galaxy.
He had corrected it.
Sif turned, staring at him.
"You reshaped this galaxy…"
"No," Markus said. "I broke it's chains."
She didn't reply.
Noctorrius Primus, Throne Room
They descended upon the dark realm with a wind of silence.
Here, Seraphiel awaited, resplendent in ceremonial armor, eyes like starlight veiled in shadow.
She knelt, "Welcome home, Master. Onyx" she smiled, "and guest." she finished looking at Sif
Her power radiated like moonlight cutting through storm clouds.
Sif stepped back instinctively. The divinity from Seraphiel struck her like a thunderclap.
This power was not borrowed nor gifted. It was earned.
She looked at Markus and Onyx.
This wasn't a man with servants.
He had built goddesses in his name.
They toured the realm, witnessing the two eternal factions engaged in their divine war. A blood sport both endless and ordained. There was no chaos, only purpose.
The people of this world did not worship Markus with prayers.
They worshipped him by following the war he had written.
Earth – Wakanda
The jungle trembled as they arrived at the Wakandan Citadel, now a temple fortress governed not by humans, but by Liches and Vampire Lords, their glowing eyes watchful.
The streets were silent.
Disciplined.
Orderly.
Sif said nothing, still processing what she had seen.
She looked upon the throne and beside it, curled in repose, the black panther form of Bastet, her divine aura coiled like smoke, eyes shut, her purring soft and continuous.
She didn't move when they arrived.
Sif's voice was quiet.
"Why…?"
Markus stepped to his throne.
"Because power should not be adored," he answered. "It should be owned."
He looked at Bastet and gently scratched behind her ear. She let out a soft hum.
"She was never meant to rule. Only to be tamed."
Sif stared and then slowly… she nodded.
Heaven, Arx Seraphim
They returned without fanfare. The gates of Arx Seraphim welcomed them with familiar silence. But something had changed. Sif excused herself, her eyes distant, her expression unreadable.
"I… I need to think."
"Of course," Markus said, his tone casual.
She walked the white corridors of her quarters in silence. Everything she believed about honor, rule, justice, all of it had been shattered and reforged during this pilgrimage.
He was not a king. He was not a tyrant. He was something else entirely.
And yet…
She remembered the way he held her when they were alone. He never demanded. Only allowed her to walk beside him.
She sat down.
And began to think.
Kamar Taj, The Chamber of the Mirror Veil
The winds of fate changed. Yao, the Ancient One, felt them before any instrument or spell could confirm it. It wasn't a ripple in time. It was a wound, a fracture.
She stood silently before the Mirror of Vaishanti, her hands clasped behind her back, watching the reflection shift. Not of herself, but of Earth's sky. Over the Atlantic, a rift split open, dark and pulsing, its edges screaming in ultraviolet tones no human ear could hear.
From it descended the unmistakable silhouettes of a dreadnought fleet, curved like predator teeth, laced with spires of quantum gravity plating.
And leading it..
The Black Order.
Proxima Midnight, Corvus Glaive, Cull Obsidian, Ebony Maw.
Thanos was not with them. But his will had arrived.
Yao said nothing as Stephen Strange entered the chamber, his cloak swirling behind him.
"I've felt the disturbance," he said. "Something's tearing in from outside our edge."
Yao nodded once, slowly.
"They're not here for conquest. Not directly. They're here for retrieval."
Strange's brow furrowed. "The Stones?"
"Yes," she replied.
He paced once. The Cloak twitched in agitation.
"Then we must act. If we don't intercept them, they'll raze cities, kill innocents.."
Yao raised a hand. The gesture stopped him cold.
"We will not interfere."
Strange's eyes widened. "What?"
She looked at him then, the full weight of time carved into her gaze.
"The Avengers are scattered. Their leadership fractured. Their governments chose leashes over judgment."
Strange said nothing. Yao turned back to the Mirror.
"Let them learn. Let them feel what happens when they mistake control for protection. When they let pride dictate policy."
"You'd sacrifice the world for a lesson?"
"No," she said softly. "I'm giving them a memory."
Earth, Eastern Hemisphere Skies
The Black Order's fleet darkened the clouds.
They moved without resistance. No Wakandan vibranium. No technological marvels to counter their presence. The Sokovia Accords had dismantled half of Earth's operational enhanced defenses. What remained were national militaries and fractured alliances. None coordinated.
Ebony Maw descended first.
In New York, air raid sirens screamed.
In London, radar screens turned black.
In Shanghai, the sky itself fell into shadow.
Back in Kamar Taj, Strange clenched his fists, his teeth grinding behind silence.
"You said Markus would help," he hissed.
Yao gave a thin smile.
"He already has. They just pushed him away."
Earth, United Nations Security Council Emergency Session, Geneva
The chamber was chaos dressed in formality.
Screens flickered with grainy footage, cities cracking under the arrival of Black Order dreadnoughts, defense grids collapsing, airstrikes failing mid launch. Some cities had gone silent entirely.
The session, initiated with forced calm, now erupted into cross talk, accusation, and barely concealed panic.
"Where is the defense coordination?"
"Where are the Avengers?!"
"We must reestablish global command.."
A voice cut through.
Low. Measured.
Worn.
Nick Fury.
He stood slowly, palms pressed against the polished desk, his single eye burning with suppressed fury.
"You people wanted a leash. You wanted control. You wanted rules," he said, voice calm like a fuse lit in molasses. "You castrated the only people who could've stood between you and this."
The room went quiet.
Fury's hand trembled. He didn't hide it.
"You buried the initiative under papers and politics. You alienated gods. And then you tried to leash something like him."
He pointed to a broadcast still playing on loop, cathedrals in Vienna, Delhi, Tokyo, Lagos, all bearing the same carved spires and obsidian reliefs.
Footage showed civilians sheltering within, heads bowed, surrounded by pulsing protective auras that shimmered like stained glass made of starlight.
Outside: buildings crumbled. Inside: untouched.
Not even Proxima Midnight could breach the sanctums.
Markus was shielding them.
"He sees them as his own," Fury continued. "That's what those cathedrals are. Not places of worship. Vaults of investment."
The French ambassador stood.
"Then we must contact him. Send an envoy. Beg him if we must.."
Fury's laugh came out sharp and dry.
"You think he's listening? You threw him away."
No one replied.
"You had him… and you made him choose a side. Now he has. And it's not yours."
A screen showed another resistance effort: Tony Stark coordinating a counteroffensive from an offshore fortress. Magneto and his Brotherhood held a city corridor in Europe, dragging Chitauri and Black Order foot soldiers into magnetic storms and psychic chokeholds.
There were still those fighting.
But none of them were wearing the UN insignia.