Scarlet Wars: Series Finale (Final Part: Mark's Monologue)

Once again back in this beefcake body that Wanda had somehow magicked up during sex was almost as awesome as his cock, he found himself eager to show it off. Based on the looks Wanda and Natasha were sending his way, they appreciated the show. But it wasn’t just that.

His power rode on all five senses now. Touch was still the GOAT, nothing would ever beat skin on skin, but the other channels had grown teeth since the wipe-out against the Illuminati and Strange’s little curse. Sight, sound, scent, even taste by proxy, all of them carried a thinner, fainter version of that same rewrite, and together they made up for the old weakness of physical contact. He had seen what Shuri’s canisters of his smell could do. And it had been Natasha who’d clocked that a recording could do the same thing, that tape or digital didn’t matter as long as there was enough of him in it for his mutation to hitch a ride.

So it made sense that if he was about to beam himself to the whole planet, the broadcast would hit harder the more of him people actually saw. The more surface area on screen, the more his power could soak into eyeballs and nervous systems.

He imagined the thumbnail on some random kid’s phone in Madrid or Seoul. Not "man makes weird speech about Thanos," but "naked god guy with ridiculous real dick gives speech with resurrected Avenger." The clip would be screenshotted, reposted, slowed down, zoomed in. People who could not care less about geopolitics would click just to stare at his body, to laugh, to drool, to argue in the comments about whether it was CGI. Governments would try to yank it down, which would only make it spread faster. Every reupload, every pirated mirror, every crappy compilation would carry a little more of him out into the wounded world.

That much he’d learned from one of Markanda Mark’s propaganda gurus sitting down with him before they’d left, how they used sex, or state sponsored porn to be exact, to essentially subliminally adjust public opinion regarding Markanda.

“Hello world. My name is Mark Williams, and you’ve been lied to.”

The sentence hit screens across the world and what really grabbed people was how much of him the camera showed. There was no podium, no costume, no clever cropping. The shot was full-body, straight on, bright and merciless, and Mark was completely naked in the middle of Westview’s town square.

He looked like every comic book’s idea of a man dropped into reality. Tall, broad through the shoulders, white skin with a healthy, outdoors flush, brown hair swept back from his forehead. His chest was a thick shelf of muscle, abs ridged and tight, lats flaring into a deep V at his waist. His thighs were big enough to look like they could dent pavement if he jumped, calves roped and solid, forearms veined when he flexed his hands.

And the camera did nothing to hide what hung between those powerful legs.

His mutant cock dangled openly, completely flaccid and still huge, the kind of size people were used to only seeing on the most notorious porn thumbnails. It hung straight down from the thick root between his hips, long enough that the heavy cut shaft almost brushed the upper curve of his knee when he shifted his weight. Even soft it had obvious girth, wide and meaty with a blunt head and a lazy vein coiling along the top. Behind it, a full sac sat low and relaxed, two huge testicles outlined clearly as they rested in the cool air.

There was no attempt at modesty. No hand, no modesty cloth, no tasteful shadow. Just a nude, superhumanly built man looking calmly into the lens while that obscene, pendulous length swayed gently with every tiny adjustment of his stance.

Mark let the moment settle. Remembering exactly how Natasha told him to say it if he ever got put in front of a camera like this. He smiled faintly, almost apologetically.

“Not by your leaders, not by your heroes… but by the universe itself. By the shape it became. By the hole carved through it when Thanos snapped away your families, your friends, your hope. That wound never truly healed. It festered. And like me, you’ve felt it every day since. ”

Part of it was shock. Part of it was simple, prurient fascination. The rest was his mutation doing exactly what he wanted. Every viewer who let their gaze trace his body, every person who couldn’t help cataloguing the ridiculous thickness of his chest or the sheer weight of his flaccid cock, fed his power. Attention bled straight through their eyes into him, and he poured it back out as empathy that wrapped around their hearts like a hand on a cheek.

The physically present residents of Westview felt the effect far stronger compared to the mere ‘rose-colored glasses’ effect of those far away and were hooked on his every word. Every time his empathy reached out to all, they could feel the warmth of his heart touching theirs.

“To think that they’d pull the wool over our eyes so easily. A titan from the sky with power over every aspect of reality, space, time… and he only used that power once? While the change was monumental in scale, why would he stop his evil at simply wiping out half the universe? Could he not bend any fact? Change any fundamental law? Shape all of everything to his whim?! Yes. He could, and he did.”

“How do I know these to be truths? Because I was not here when Thanos committed his heinous crime. You see, I come from another universe. That’s right. I’m sure there are many out there that think of other Earths–places where things turned out slightly differently–where your mind wonders to the ‘what ifs’ of your life. What if I’d turned left? What if she didn’t dump me? What if I… was something more”

“Well let me tell you: your fears are founded. You were something more, and you can be again.”

“My world is almost identical to yours. Same sky, same oceans, same heroes. But ours is brighter. Fuller. People lived with colour in their hearts and their bodies reflected the vibrance of their spirits. Strength looked like strength. Beauty looked like beauty. We believed in ourselves… sound familiar?”

As he spoke, he shifted his stance, one big hand casually hefting the thick, pale length hanging from his hips as if to underline the word strength before letting it fall back with a lewd plap against his sack, the whole oversized package giving a lazy sway that threw the sheer, obscene softness of it into sharp relief against the hard, chiseled lines of the Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime body of his.

“Thanos didn’t just erase life. He distorted everything. Your universe buckled. Reality sagged in disturbing ways. Colour washed away. People’s spirits dimmed. You grew weary. Anxious. Angry. You blamed yourselves. Each other. Those that remained vs. those that came back. Politicians. Heroes. But here’s the truth, gang… your suffering ain’t your fault.”

His eyes soften with practiced sympathy.

“It’s Thanos. It was always Thanos. Every hollow feeling you’ve carried in your chest? Every moment you woke up wondering why life felt less than it used to? Every insecurity, every doubt, every quiet voice whispering that nothing feels quite right? And your heart calls out demanding ‘’who is responsible for all of this’?” Mark pointed dramatically to the stars. “Thanos is.”

He steps closer to the camera.

“I know this, because from my world we heard that cry. We heard this reality bend to the whims of a madman, and we could not stand idly by. All of your brilliance, your ideals, washed away in a moment. And as the ultimate failsafe, he changed your memories. The thoughts you could use to fight against his changes. Making you all but complicit slaves in his awful machinations.”

“So me and my team crossed through. With my ability, I can restore what once was. I am a mutant, Homo Superior–yet another concept that Thanos took from you–with the power to heal. The strength of rebirth. I became ‘The Phoenix King’ to my world. A bit much in terms of names, I know, but when you shake the hand of ‘Captain America’ you tend to want to go bold.”

“I’m sure there are sceptics. But look, I already have proof of my claims. Wanda? Want to step forward?”

She had learned a lot about this man in the last few seconds–with a lot of it being pumped into her when he touched her hand–but Wanda loved him too much to care about the specifics. She was his, after all.

“Hello. I am Wanda Maximoff. You know me as the Scarlet Witch, and thanks to Mark I’ve been reborn as my original self.”

With a spin, she gestured to her body. Showing off the dynamic change to those that knew and recognised her. An hourglass body, packed into a skin tight red and black outfit. Her cleavage pronounced, her hips wide, like she’d jumped right out of a comic book.

“Is she not perfect now? Look at her and know that this is what your universe was always meant to be.” said Mark, trying to resist the urge to just kiss her hard in front of everyone. Instead he took another step forward to his other witch, “With the aid of this Avenger, I’ve uncovered the truth. Thanos may be gone, but his black order still exists to keep this world twisted. Grey. Yet here, in this small town, I have defeated one of Thanos’ minions.”

“That’s right!” grinned Agatha evilly, keeping her hands locked behind her back, easily slipping into the villain role that her master had dictated with wicked speed, “My old lord, Thanos, has this whole foolish universe dancing to his corrupted tune! He decays this world from beyond the grave! There are thousands of us! The Agents of THANOS will not take this loss idly! They’ll increase the pain and suffering that all feel until only apathy and agony remain! HAHAHAHA!”

“But I will not let that happen.”

“What?!” she hammed it up, snapping her head around to grimace at her ‘enemy’, “Damn you, Phoenix King! What purpose do you have in saving this world?!”

Mark looked directly at the camera, with as warm a smile as the man could muster.

“I have no ulterior motive but to avenge what was stolen from you. Thanos may have taken it all, but I will do everything I can to restore it. No matter who stands in my way–be it the Agents of THANOS or others who think they know better–the truth will come out!”

With a grand gesture he threw his arms open, welcoming all those looking for guidance.

“I am Mark Williams! I am The Phoenix King! Together we shall rise again!”

The crowd roared in adoration, covering the screen before it cuts to black.

WandaVision’s final image was that of Mark standing triumphant over Westview.

Within the hour, local law enforcement and the US military were charging towards the town.

But there was nothing there to find.

Westview was gone by the time they arrived.