Scene 1: "After Thanos, Comes Doom"
The golden "A" still gleamed on the side of Avengers Tower, though the windows bore the scars of war. Inside, in a chamber rebuilt after the Battle of Earth, sat the council — older, wearier, but far from broken.
Captain Sam Wilson leaned on the table, wings retracted. "We handled a Titan," he said. "But what's happening in Damascus… this is different."
Shuri, seated beside him, flipped through holographic projections of the Rift. "You don't understand. This Doom—this Zafira—she's not just ruling. She's rewriting the architecture of time and space."
"Even Stark tech can't fully track her," added Rhodey, arms crossed. "I've tried. Everything short-circuits around her citadel."
From the back of the room, Anthiya Stark stepped forward — her Mark 85 armor, her fingers tapping a palm-sized arc core.
"She's not untouchable."
They all turned to her.
"I've been watching Zafira since she reemerged. She's brilliant, calculated, and she blends tech with something we still can't classify — mysticism, energy manipulation, you name it. But she bleeds. She doubts. And I know how she thinks."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Because right now, she's more monarch than menace. The UN still calls her a stabilizing force."
Anthiya narrowed her eyes. "That stabilizer just built a floating fortress above the birthplace of civilization and installed herself as empress. How long before she decides New York's unstable too?"
A hush fell.
Shuri broke it. "We can't just strike. We need intel. A plan."
Anthiya turned to the projected Rift map. "Then we start there. We trace the energy anomalies tied to the original Veil Project. Zafira didn't just survive the Rift… she became something inside it."
She looked around the room.
"Thanos took half the universe. Doom wants to shape the whole one in her image."
And then softly, almost to herself:
"Time to see if I'm still a Stark."
---
Scene 2: "The Ghost in the Forge"
The forge beneath Stark Tower burned non-stop for twelve months.
Inside, Anthiya Stark stood sleepless, silhouetted by cascading blueprints and shimmering glyphs stolen from Rift residue. FRIDAY's voice echoed softly through the lab.
> "You haven't rested in 33 hours, Anthiya."
"I will when I can match her," she said, wiping sweat from her brow. "No more catching up. We go head-to-head."
She stared at the arc reactor glowing in the heart of Mark 86 — a refined hybrid, coded with anti-magic protocols, Rift disruptors, and layered with vibranium-mystic alloy.
> "You're applying the patterns Zafira used in Veil compression," FRIDAY observed.
"I'm doing more than that," Anthiya whispered, watching runes light up on her HUD schematic. "I'm understanding her."
> "And what do you understand?"
"She's brilliant. Beautiful in the way storms are. And she believes she's already won." She paused. "That's why she's vulnerable."
With a final spark, the Mark 86 sealed shut, humming like a sleeping beast.
FRIDAY flickered.
> "Upload combat protocol: Doomslayer?"
"No." Anthiya smirked.
"Upload protocol: Knock, Knock."
---
Scene 3: "The Sky Citadel Breach"
The thunder above Damascus cracked with ancient fury, as though the sky itself questioned her reign.
Inside the Sky Citadel, Zafira stood at the edge of her throne's dais, dressed in her obsidian and emerald armor, the Mark II Doomarmor. The wind curled through broken windows as systems blared warnings.
> "Unregistered energy spike detected… inbound velocity critical."
She didn't flinch.
From the horizon, Mark 86 blazed in — red, gold, and defiant. It broke through the Citadel's dome with a sonic roar, sending shards and smoke into the air.
Anthiya Stark landed, unfazed. The faceplate slid back.
> "Still dramatic," Zafira said coolly.
> "Still terrifying," Anthiya replied, brushing dust from her shoulder. "This place reeks of ego."
Zafira took a slow step forward. "Did you come here to lecture me again, like you did at Baxter?"
Anthiya's eyes narrowed. "You never listened then either."
From the corner, Waseem Maximoff watched silently. Robes flowing, hands behind his back. No shield raised. No spell conjured.
He was just there.
> "You built this empire on fear and worship, Zafira. You've become the very kind of tyrant we fought against."
Zafira's voice dropped. "I built a world that didn't need to fear Thanos. Or Hydra. Or your father's failures."
Anthiya stepped closer.
> "You're not saving the world. You're controlling it."
Zafira's breath caught—just for a fraction.
> "And you," she hissed, turning to Waseem, "have nothing to say? After all we survived?"
He didn't meet her eyes.
> "She's not wrong," Anthiya said softly. "You're not on the right path, Doom. Stop this before you lose yourself."
Zafira's heart stung with betrayal. She stared at Waseem—his silence louder than missiles.
A heavy pause.
She turned sharply, eyes burning emerald fire. "Then you both can leave. Before I make you."
But Anthiya didn't flinch. "I'm not here to fight you."
"Then you're wasting my time."
> "No," Stark said. "I'm giving you one last chance. Before I have to fight you."
---
Scene 4: "The Silence Between Us"
> "And you," she hissed, turning to Waseem, "have nothing to say? After all we survived?"
The air between them stilled. The Citadel — so often echoing with incantations, strategy, flame — now held only the weight of a question.
Waseem didn't look away from her, but he didn't step forward either.
Anthiya's voice, sharp and low, cut through the tension.
> "You've gone too far, Doom. You're brilliant, yes, but you're no god."
Zafira's eyes didn't move from Waseem.
> "Say it," she demanded. "Say you believe her. That I'm mad, unworthy, losing my way."
Waseem's jaw clenched. He lowered his gaze.
> "...You're not the girl I once stood beside in the desert," he said softly. "You've become something… else. Something I don't always recognize."
That shattered her more than any weapon.
Her breath trembled — just slightly — as she backed away.
> "So this is what loyalty means to the Scarlet Wizard," she spat. "To nod while someone else writes my eulogy."
Anthiya activated her helmet with a subtle tap.
> "We came to warn you, not to fight you."
> "Then leave," Zafira whispered, the storm behind her eyes brewing.
The wind howled as the two guests turned. But just as Waseem began to follow Stark toward the exit, he turned back for one last look.
Zafira wasn't looking at him. She stood tall, alone again on the dais — just like at the beginning. A shadow behind sovereign light.
He hesitated.
She didn't.
---
Scene 5: "Her Throne Is Empty"
The Sky Citadel had never been this silent.
Zafira sat in the council chamber beneath a dim constellation dome, one hand gripping the armrest of her obsidian throne, the other trembling in her lap. The words from earlier still echoed — You're not the girl I once stood beside.
She hadn't taken off her armor.
She couldn't.
The Mark II's metal creaked as she leaned forward, elbows on knees, head low. Her hair was undone, a few strands clinging to her cheek. No voice dared enter the room — not a guard, not a drone.
The light flickered in her eyes. Not rage. Not yet. It was something worse.
Guilt.
Her fingers curled into fists. She whispered to herself:
> "I built this for him. For us. I saved the world... I made it better."
The room gave no answer.
Then she rose — slowly, regally — and walked to the edge of the vast circular window. Storms swirled over Damascus. The Rift pulsed faintly beyond the clouds.
And still, she was alone.
A projection from her system flickered to life.
Friday's voice.
> "Incoming communique. Priority: Stark Protocol."
Zafira didn't move.
> "Play it."
Anthiya appeared, arms crossed in her lab, gaze cold.
> "I tried, Zafira. I gave you a chance to walk back. But if you won't, then I will stop you myself. No throne makes you untouchable. I upgraded for you. Mark 86 will match you blow for blow."
> "The Avengers are watching now. And Waseem's chosen his side."
The hologram faded.
Zafira stood still.
Then her armor's systems registered something: a small drone entering the Citadel. One of her own — a Doombot. But this one was carrying a scroll. Hand-delivered.
From him.
She stared at it.
She didn't take it.
> "He wouldn't," she whispered, voice brittle.
But the Doombot set it gently before her and left in silence.
She opened it.
A formal, sealed message. No magic. No illusions. Just ink — red, smudged.
Waseem's handwriting. His signature at the bottom.
A divorce.
Final.
No explanation.
Just a name.
She crumpled the paper slowly in her hand.
And then her rage finally bloomed.
The ceiling cracked.
The Citadel rumbled.
She screamed — and the night over Damascus howled with her.
---
Absolutely. Here's the full rewritten Scene 6 with the emotional weight you asked for, starting right from the raw, unfiltered pain.
---
Scene 6: The Silence & Strange
She cried.
For hours. Maybe days. Maybe longer.
Zafira bint Hakib, the sovereign storm, collapsed to her knees in the heart of her Sky Citadel, alone beneath the towering spires. Her cloak pooled around her like melted emerald fire, her fists shaking against the cold obsidian.
She screamed once.
Then again.
Then silence.
Tears soaked the floor of her sanctum—her throne untouched, her armor rusting in its cradle. For a year, she barely ruled. The world moved on, but Doom did not.
She had received his message. Delivered not by hand, but by a Doombot—her own creation. The irony nearly broke her more than the words:
"You changed. This isn't who I loved. I'm sorry."
She had stared at the Doombot. Then crushed it under her boot. But the message lived on—in every breath, in every echo of his voice, in every memory of his skin against hers, his laugh in the silence of her chambers, the warmth of his hand over her heart.
She had shared her thoughts with him.
Her bed.
Her reign.
And now he was gone.
---
It was Serena Strange who found her.
At the edge of the desert near Damascus, under the starlit silence, a portal opened—circular, glowing with eldritch runes. Serena stepped through, robes fluttering, eyes cautious. She hadn't seen Zafira in nearly a year.
"Come to gloat?" Zafira said from her balcony, her voice dry.
"No," Serena whispered. "I came because I felt you cry across dimensions."
Zafira didn't deny it.
She sat down, cross-legged like a girl, knees drawn to her chest. "I thought I was the storm. But I forgot even storms can feel empty after they've destroyed what they love."
Serena sat beside her. "You didn't destroy it. He just couldn't weather it."
Silence stretched.
Then a tear. Then another. Then the silence broke in sobs that shook the obsidian walls. Zafira let herself break—only here, only now.
Serena pulled her close, forehead to forehead. "You are Doom. But you are still human. Let it hurt."
Zafira clenched her teeth, her voice breaking, "I gave him everything. I let him see all of me."
"And now he's gone. So be it," Serena said gently. "That doesn't make you less. It makes you... unfinished."
---
That night, they sat under the stars, sipping from old Kamar-Tajj cups, talking like they were girls again.
Zafira looked up, eyes red, but fiercer. "This year... I lost everything. But I think I needed to."
Serena smiled. "Then next year... you take everything."
And in the distance, deep in the fabric of time, something stirred — a ripple unseen. But for now, Zafira closed her eyes.
And let herself be held.
---
Scene 6: The moment between two old friends
Rain kissed the courtyard of Kamar-Taj in slow, solemn rhythms, dripping from old tiles and mist-wreathed lanterns. The world beyond had quieted, but inside Serena Strange's private sanctum, it was the sound of a storm breaking—not outside, but within.
Zafira bint Hakib, Empress of the Sky Citadel, Time Ruler, the one they called Doom… sobbed like a wounded animal in Serena's arms.
Her armor lay discarded like shed skin, forgotten. Her proud cape soaked in tears. Her golden gauntlets lay beside shattered ceramic. The message had played only once, Waseem's voice so quiet, so formal.
> "I can't walk this path anymore. I loved you. But not like this."
And just like that, Zafira collapsed—not in battle, not by sorcery or war—but by a truth she could never predict.
Serena sat behind her on the low cushions, legs crossed, her arms wrapped tightly around Zafira's trembling body. The great Doctor Doom, ruler of half the known world, clung to her like a girl who'd just lost the last tether to her soul.
"He meant it…" Zafira choked out. "He didn't even come himself…"
Serena held her tighter. "I know."
"Why didn't he fight for me?"
Serena didn't answer. Instead, she pressed her cheek against Zafira's hair and whispered, "Because he never could match you. And that terrified him."
Zafira sniffed, eyes red and raw. "I gave him everything. I gave him my mind, my body—my kingdom."
"And he gave you love," Serena said gently. "But love and fear can't share the same house. You burned too bright for him. And now… you're trying to set the world on fire just to feel warmth again."
Zafira turned her face, tear-streaked and furious. "Don't you dare."
Serena met her gaze calmly, like an ocean meeting a storm. "I'm not blaming you. I'm trying to save you."
She reached out and placed her fingers over Zafira's chest.
"You are not your pain. And power doesn't erase loneliness. You can rule time, Zafira—but balance… that's something you must live. Not take."
Zafira's voice cracked. "I don't want balance. I want control."
"I know," Serena whispered. "But I am the Sorcerer Supreme. And I am the balance. That's why I'm here. To hold you—yes. But also to stop you… if I must."
Zafira's jaw clenched. For a long, terrible moment, it looked like she might lash out.
But instead, she crumbled again. She let herself fall back into Serena's arms, silent sobs shaking her.
"You won't stop me," she said finally, voice like a knife in silk.
"No," Serena said softly. "But I'll be there when you fall."
They stayed like that for what felt like hours. No spells. No storms. Just rain, and a woman holding a broken woman.
Because sometimes, the fiercest wars are the ones waged between two people who still love each other—and know they must walk different paths.
---
To be continued...