Tony walks through the field of corpses with a blank look on his face, once upon a time, he would have been horrified, he would have fought and bled and fallen in their place, by their side, instead of presiding over the ashes. Now though, he’s been burned far too many times by this beautifully cruel world and no longer feels anything for it. His armour clinks with every step in the deathly silence, the gold gleaming under the pale rays of sunlight that begin to conquer the clouds.
He walks up to a throne, a throne no longer solitary, where a saviour, a lover and a madman awaits for him. There is something close to hope in those pale blue eyes he’s grown to love so much as a purple hand reaches out for him. He would have hesitated, before, but that man died, freezing alone and choking in his own blood, the man he is now doesn’t. Tony climbs into his throne, still holding Thanos’ hand and looks upon his handiwork and smiles. The fields of Wakanda are drenched in blood, soon, the rest of the world will follow.
Thanos means death, he reflects as their thrones calmly float away. He’s always had a deep connection with death, this time however, it’s not as its merchant, but as his lover. Together they will scorch the Earth for its sins, he will avenge himself in the blood of billions and laugh all the while. The world always claimed he was destined for a career in evil, too willing to see the darkness in him and not the light. Only Thanos has ever loved every part of him, only with the Mad Titan has he dared take off the masks others so happily swallow. Tony holds his hand tighter offering a smile at the interrogating glance.
They will talk later, when things have been made right. For now though, the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes have fallen, dry husks left behind, their blood consecrating the warm Wakandan soil. The planet is ripe for the taking, for all the war and the death and the pain he’s bringing with him. And he’s not sorry.