The Goddness

Stephen doesn't even remember when it all started. Time in the cage in which he remains to this day has been moving differently for many, many years. Once upon a time, so long ago that it seems unreal, a pipe mirage of the desert, Stephen remembered the old world. The world that would have remained the same if Wanda hadn't destroyed it. The Avengers made a mistake. They killed her brother. Of course, by accident. But the fact remained unchanged. Wanda brought destruction. Wanda brought the pain of her heart. Wanda brought death. Wanda brought rebirth. They knew the wrath of primordial Chaos. The Scarlet Witch wiped everyone and everything off the face of the earth. Except him, fucking Stephen Strange. He really didn't understand why she liked him. Her knowledge and her power couldn't be compared with him, the Supreme Sorcerer of the Earth. The former Supreme Sorcerer of the Earth. Wanda recreated the world. She created it from scratch, wanting to bring into reality the world utopia that philosophers and ordinary people so desperately dreamed of. But what good is it if she builds a new one on the bones of the old world, but there is no one who could appreciate all her works? Her choice fell on the magician, he was quite good. Wanda locked him in her beautiful house, more like a temple to a new goddess, her holy habitat. Locked him up and deprived him of his magic. With one click. So simple. She took and crossed out Stephen’s many years of work. Strange fought with her. He fought desperately, on the verge of a hunted victim, knowing that the world couldn't be returned to its roots. He saw what the world become. More precisely, what it became, reborn from ashes and rotting flesh. Her world. A reality created from the energy of chaos. Magic that has no equal in this multiverse. Stephen didn't give up. He asked her to stop, asked her to take everything back. He asked to let him go or kill him. But she never listened to him. She just looked and smiled. Sometimes she touched him, said serenely that the world had become better thanks to her. She ran her hand gently through his hair, looking into his eyes. Eyes in which all the torments of existence and metaphorical hell blazed. Stephen didn't look at them. He was scared. He was afraid of Wanda, but tried to control himself. But sometimes another Wanda came to him. The one who craves violence. Blood. Murders. The Scarlet Witch. Their image in Stephen's head contrasted so strongly that it seemed to him that there were only two options - either Wanda had gone crazy, or he himself had gone crazy. Wanda was gentle with him. She talked sweetly, touched his hair and face, looked into his eyes, into his very soul. The Scarlet Witch considered him her property, a creature that should only rejoice in the fact that it still breathes by her grace. Without magic, he can't oppose anything to her. Just beg. And that's music to her ears. Stephen doesn’t know what year it would be now according to the old calendar. Now is the Eight Hundred and Ninety-First from the creation of the world. And he doesn't even age. Wanda doesn't want to let him go. And he understands that. Takes it for granted. Spend eternity in dungeons with her, never going outside since the moment of imprisonment? Apparently, this is his fate. Has he almost forgotten what it’s like to look at the blue clear sky during the day, or at the myriads of stars at night? What can he feel? What does the air smell like after rain? What does the new world look like there, behind the bars of this lattice? He doesn't remember anymore. On days when Wanda isn't in the mood, she can stare at him for hours without even blinking. And only the ominous silence was broken by the distant ticking of a clock, almost inaudible if you didn’t listen closely. She looked at him, looked into his eyes, looked into his soul. Stephen is scared, Steven wants to run away, but Stephen can’t escape anywhere - a three-meter cubic cell, perfectly flat, with magical ligature in the bars, became his refuge with the beginning of the new world. Oh, even when he had magic, he couldn't break those damn bars! His prison turned out to be perfect. And his warden is his worst nightmare. But when the Scarlet Witch came, he was ready to beg for mercy. She rummaged through his memory, sent him nightmares, made him writhe on the floor in pain, made him remember that he was just an insignificant creature in her house. Wanda and the Scarlet Witch were so different and so the same. It drove him crazy. He tried to talk to her, tried to tell her that he was ready to help her. But Wanda just smiled and said that everything was fine. And the Scarlet Witch angrily bared her teeth, saying that he should have helped earlier. Much earlier, even before the old world turned to dust. Stephen is horrified. A thousand years have passed since the creation of the new world, and he humbly asks Wanda for only one thing - to take his life, because he can no longer stand this. Wanda smiles at him again, slowly running her hand along his cheekbone, sitting with him on the floor in his cage and simply smiling. Stephen lowers his eyelids, afraid to look into the eyes of his Wanda and meet the Scarlet Witch there. Now Stephen is really afraid. He is afraid when he hears the clicking of heels on his floor, he is afraid to make a bet - who came to him today? He is afraid to look her in the face and be defeated again. Nobody will help him. Even Death itself is in no hurry to raise his sharp scythe over him, not wanting to interrupt the eternal performance. Stephen is desperate. And Wanda just smiles at him again with her beautiful smile of a goddess, ruffling his hair. Yes, she is a goddess. She is a goddess behind the walls of this temple for all the people who inhabit her planet. And now she is a goddess for himself. Stephen is almost crazy to say that, and the Scarlet Witch, for the first time in a millennium, looks at his kneeling figure praying to her and does nothing. And Stephen is afraid to look up until his hands tremble. He just doesn't feel the difference between the Scarlet Witch and Wanda anymore. He doesn't look up at her anymore. He went crazy from the wrong love to this woman. To his personal goddess from now until the end of time.