by Alex Irvine
“Joke all you want, Ben, but that’s exactly what he told me. His chambers near that throne room are lined with pictures of his mother. I wasn’t familiar with the story—Reed, maybe you ought to tell it. You know Doom better than the rest of us.”
“The short version is that Victor’s mother was quite an accomplished village…witch, I guess would be the word. Or sorceress,” Reed said. “She made the proverbial deal with the devil— the demon we know as Mephisto, in this case—to protect her people against a local nobleman. When she died, Mephisto took possession of her spirit. He’s had it ever since.”
“That’s pretty much what Doom told me,” Captain America said. “And now he says he’s going to use his powers to get his mother back from Mephisto.”
“I would, too, if I were in his shoes,” Wasp said.
“Absolutely,” She-Hulk added.
“The problem is this,” Captain America said. “If Doom’s grand goal is to free his mother…we can sympathize all we want, but we also have to realize that he’s just like one of us. Human still…only with virtually limitless power. Now the question is: Can we trust him to do the right thing with that power?”
“The first thing he did was heal his face,” Reed noted. “That ought to tell us something about how completely he’s let go of human foibles.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too,” Captain America said.
“We are all familiar with the temptations Battleworld has placed before us, are we not?” Xavier suggested. “Imagine how much greater those temptations must be if you have the power to realize any desire.”
“Doom will begin controlling us, no matter what he has promised,” Storm said.
“That’s the concern,” Steve said. “Now the other side of it is, we can’t blame Doom for wanting his mother back. I’d love to see my own mother again.” All of them nodded and muttered agreement at this. “The problem is, he thinks he’s transcended all human desires, and convinced himself of that—but he seems to be acting like the same old Doom. Freedom to do only what Doom permits isn’t any kind of freedom at all.”
“So we should head back over there and take him out,” Hulk said. “Don’t need to talk about it much more, do we?”
“If he has the kind of power we think he has, though…” She-Hulk let the implications of this soak in.
“That’s right,” Wolverine said. “We’re all gonna die. But who’s to say that’s not on the agenda anyway? I say we go get him. It’s the only way to be sure.”
“Sure of what? That we get ourselves killed?” Spectrum countered. “If Reed can get us home, we should focus on that.” Colossus could see that she had no desire to get close to Doom again after her last experience. Who could blame her?
“Doom could do that whenever he wants,” Wolverine said. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to live my life knowing Victor von Doom can snuff me out any second. I’d rather die trying to do something about it. We need to go after him.”
“Yes,” Reed Richards said. Johnny Storm and the Thing, seated next to him, nodded. “We’re in,” Johnny said.
“As I am,” Xavier said, “and I believe my compatriots, though they will speak for themselves.”
“I will stand with you,” Magneto added.
Around the table, each of the heroes chimed in. It was unanimous—until it was Peter’s turn. “How about you, Colossus?” Captain America asked. “You haven’t said a word.”
“I am thinking,” Peter said. “Doom may never harm us, in which case we march to an unnecessary battle that will likely kill us all. And for some of us, Battleworld has not been…so bad. If we are to be trapped here forever, perhaps we could make the best of it.”
“Your vote is yours, Colossus. Cast it one way or another, but cast it,” Captain America said.
If they fought Doom, they would probably all die. So would everyone else on Battleworld. If they did not fight Doom, they would live out their lives as Doom’s thralls. Either way, their lives would end at his whim. So would Zsaji’s. The only difference was how active a role they would play during the time they had left to live—and what they chose to fight for.
“Professor,” Peter said. “When you left me in Zsaji’s village, why did you not contact me to tell me why?”
“I should have,” Xavier said. “I knew the Avengers would see to your care—better than we could—but I also wanted to leave a signal that though we must operate apart, I believed us to be fighting the same battle. I trusted you to be aware of and convey that message.”
Peter understood. He also knew that when it came to the choice in front of him, there was no real choice. He was an X-Man.
“Yes,” he said, rising to his feet and morphing into his armor form. “We should fight.”
Cap stood as well. “Be warned,” he said. “A bolt from the blue might strike us all dead. Be prepared. Assemble!”
Peter saw his friends and allies stand and rally. And then, for the briefest moment, he saw the heroes around him silhouetted by a blinding light. He thought briefly of Zsaji and Katya, and then of nothing at all.
ULYSSES KLAW
Such a boom made by Doom! Klaw was keen to watch the screen, to see the blast that put the heroes in the past. Hahahaha! Doom made a boom and erased the base, the fire went higher and nothing was left. Dead heroes couldn’t fight Doom after that kind of boom, no. The fire flickered on the screen and Klaw marveled at the scene he had seen. Everyone heroic no matter how stoic was now just as dead as the old Mesozoic.
You couldn’t fight Doom—who would try to fly that high when Doom was a god and could wipe them out with a nod? Even Klaw who was made of sound knew Doom wouldn’t keep him around any longer than he found Klaw useful.
Klaw also had a plan, oh man what a plan, it came from the light that sped into his head. Doom was scary but very wary. Were the heroes really gone? For now, for now, but Klaw could avow that nothing on Battleworld lasted forever.
Strange powers, through Klaw, were searching for a flaw in Doom. Klaw wasn’t in control, his mind wasn’t whole, the light in his mind would shine most bright on the places where Doom was weak.
Klaw could not resist. He was along for the ride, carried with the tide until he died. On the screen the scene was mean, the fire went higher and the heroes went up in smoke, no joke.
FIFTY-NINE
AMORA withdrew from the raucous company of the mortals to consider her next move. The place she chose was the one room where she was most likely to be uninterrupted: the lavatory. Molecule Man had restored the civilized comforts of this part of the city, in an effort to make his ladylove more comfortable. This provided Amora a new way to ascertain what was happening back on Battleworld—for knowing what transpired there was crucial to understanding how she should proceed.
As she ran the bathtub full of water, Amora considered whether she might once again reach out to Doom. Flush with his newfound power, he might be more open to her advances. On the other hand, he might react poorly; in that event, Amora was not at all certain she would survive. Even to consider that enraged her. How had Doom achieved such power that he could threaten the existence of an immortal? Things were badly out of balance.
The bathtub was full. Amora looked down into it as into a mirror, and to her reflection she said, “Arise.”
A water elemental, unmistakably female in form, took shape and rose from the surface. “What’s shakin’, Amora?” it said. Elementals were unpredictable personalities. Often they were quite scatterbrained, particularly the water variety. Amora bristled at this one’s familiarity, but it could not control its nature any more than she could.
“I require information,” she said. “Tell me what you know of the Beyonder.”
“Oh, well, I was just having a little meow-meow with some other spiritual essences, you know the way we do when nobody’s summoned us for a while and all we can do is yap. Some of them know just about everything, since they’ve been around as long as there have been elements.
The Beyonder? Well, he’s from another dimension. He is another dimension. He’s complete, see? Then a little pinhole opened up linking his dimension to this one, and he got…curious. Because you’re all so incomplete. You want things you don’t have, and the Beyonder doesn’t understand that. So what he wanted to do was study it, because between you and me the Beyonder is kind of a nerd, and he set up Battleworld so he could make everyone desire something and see how far they would go to get it. You were a natural, because you’re all about desire, aren’t you, gorgeous?”
“Watch your tone,” Amora warned. “I tolerate it because you possess something I need. But do not forget I can make your existence intolerably…arid…if I choose.”
“Geez, what’d I say?” the elemental scowled.
“I know Doom has taken the Beyonder’s power,” Amora said. “You, who can commune with every molecule of water in the universe: Tell me now what transpires back upon Battleworld.”
“What? I can’t do that!”
“Oh, you can,” said the Enchantress. “Perhaps you merely need a slight boost to your energy.”
She caught the elemental by its hair and thrust it back down into the tub. Keeping contact with it despite its struggles, she caused the water to boil; in the churning surface, she saw Doom’s incredible power exercised in the annihilation of his former base and all of the heroes—including Thor Odinson. Amora choked back a sob at this, hoping it was a mistake or an illusion. She then coaxed forth an image that showed Doom’s next goal: invading the realm of the dread demon, Mephisto, to free his mother’s captive spirit. A shudder rolled down her spine. “No,” she breathed as she released the elemental. It exploded up from the tub as the boiling water cooled around it.
“You didn’t have to do that,” it said crossly. “Would it kill you to be nice?”
“One more question,” Amora said. She wanted to ask about Thor, but another approach might reveal that answer and much more besides. “Does the Beyonder yet live?”
“Barely,” the elemental said. “Seriously, he’s hanging on by a thread. But he’s hanging on, and he’s closer to Doom than anyone might think. Even Doom doesn’t know. This whole show isn’t quite over yet, if you know what I mean.”
Amora thought she did. “Begone,” she said. She pulled the plug and let the elemental drain away into whatever reservoir Molecule Man had created to receive it. Emerging from the bathroom, she brushed past the Absorbing Man.
“Didn’t you hear me knocking?” he complained. “Some of us don’t got immortal bladders, you know.”
She ignored him and returned to the group. So: Doom intended to rescue his mother from Mephisto. Doubtless he would spark a war among demonic entities, and it would broaden. Asgard would not be able to remain neutral if any of the Nine Realms—Niffleheim, Hel, Muspelheim—chose sides either for or against Mephisto. Asgard had to be informed immediately.
A plan was taking shape in her mind. Even adrift in the deepest reaches of space, Amora the Enchantress was never without resources. She reached out to another of the company and gave her mind just a little push in the right direction.
*
It was inevitable, Owen thought. A big group in a small apartment, stranded in the middle of space—of course they would start to pick on each other. “If we run out of food, we can always eat the Lizard,” Piledriver said. “Gators taste like chicken. He probably does, too.”
“You will most certainly not,” Volcana said, going to the Lizard’s side. He’d been twitchy since Denver lifted away from Battleworld’s surface, and she had proven adept at calming him down. This made Owen love her even more; it appeared to have a similar effect on the Lizard, who now followed her wherever she went. “Owie, tell them to be nice to the Lizard.”
“Everyone, come on. Let’s not start in on each other,” Owen said. “We’re on our way home. Can’t we all be happy about that?”
“Are we? Are we sure about that?” Doc Ock looked unconvinced. “For all any of us know, we could be headed in the wrong direction. If Earth even exists! How do we know the Beyonder didn’t just wipe it out? He erased the whole universe, for all we can tell.”
“I’m fixing that,” Owen said.
Every head in the room turned. “You’re what?” Octavius echoed.
“Fixing it. Putting the stars back, that kind of thing. There’s lots of matter to work with.”
“You’re lying,” Octavius said. “Even you can’t do that.”
“Oh, I can do it, all right. I’ve already started,” Owen said. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
The next thing any of them knew, they were out in the street. “Look!” Owen said, pointing. He watched their faces as they looked up and saw what he had done.
Through the dome Owen had put over the city, stars were visible. They were not arranged in familiar constellations, but that was only because the spacefaring city was still so far from Earth that the configurations looked different. “I’ve started putting back the stars,” Owen said proudly. “I told you I could do anything.”
Denver was flying so fast the stars moved visibly as he spoke. “We’ll be home soon,” Owen finished. “Great, right?”
“No! This is a trick! This cannot be true!” Doc Ock’s tentacles waved crazily around him, tearing up a tree and raking the facades of nearby buildings.
“It’s not a trick,” Owen insisted. With a force field, he cushioned the fall of the bricks and concrete from the buildings so no one would be hurt.
“Even if we were headed in the right direction, it would take billions of years to get home!” Octavius raved.
“But Doctor Octopus, that’s only if you have to obey the laws of physics along the way,” Owen explained. “Trust me, that’s not a problem for me…so it’s not a problem for the rest of us, either.”
“Lies! You’ve killed us all! If we’d stayed on Battleworld, we had a chance…but now we’re going to die out here, and no one will ever even remember us!” Octavius’ tentacles reached for Owen, who deflected them easily.
“Really,” he said. “Just wait and see.”
“Doc, you’re losin’ it,” Absorbing Man said.
“We oughta settle him down,” the Wrecker said.
“Oh, I’ll settle him down, all right.” The Absorbing Man reached out and touched the steel post of a nearby NO PARKING sign. His body flashed and gleamed as it became steel-like itself. The pavement cracked beneath his feet.
“Don’t hurt him,” Molecule Man said. “I feel a little bad, really. He’s not a bad guy, Doc Ock. He’s just a little bit overwhelmed. Kind of like I was when I got here—right, honey?”
He turned to look for Volcana, who was gone. So was the Lizard…and the Enchantress.
They must have gotten bored with the fighting, Owen thought. “Listen, Octavius. We don’t need to fight.” He snapped his fingers— just for effect, really—and Absorbing Man was flesh again. That took the steam out of the fight. Owen was learning how effective small gestures like that could be. “Everybody relax,” he said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll get us home.”
*
Amora took advantage of the chaos to draw Volcana away from the group with the simplest of telepathic…suggestions. When they reached a nearby park, Amora released her. Volcana looked around, startled. “How—?” she began.
“I summoned you,” Amora said. “The time has come to repay the debt you owe me.”
“Repay…forget it!” Volcana said. She began to change, unleashing the plasma energies within her—but Amora arrested that process and trapped her in a simple stasis field.
“I’m afraid I can’t forget it, darling. You see, I’ve learned of a danger to all the Nine Realms. Doom’s quest for his mother will have consequences even he cannot foresee. I, however, can—and I will do anything necessary to prevent his plan from coming to fruition. Unfortunately for you, my dear Miss Rosenberg, that means I must away to Asgard immediately. And the only way I can travel so far is if you donat
e your life force to me.” Amora held Volcana off the ground, feeling the churn and surge of her internal energies.
“No, no, no,” Volcana was saying, her voice dimmed by the magical field in which Amora had imprisoned her.
“Yes,” Amora said. “’Tis a pity you never read all of your people’s fables about foolish promises. Now…”
She began to summon forth Volcana’s energies, feeling them start to coalesce and flow toward her. But before she could complete the summoning, shouts from nearby startled her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Lizard, fangs bared, rushing toward her—and flying behind and above him, the far greater threat of Molecule Man.
The Lizard, deranged by her attack on his only friend in the group, was almost upon her. She had not yet the power to reach Asgard! Yet there was perhaps another way. Very well, she thought, and took the only course of action available to her. She gathered her powers and vanished, along with the Lizard…back to Battleworld.
But it was only meant to be a temporary stop. “Fafnir’s teeth, but you vex me, animal!” she screamed at the Lizard. His answer was to spring at her and slash her face with his claws.
She felt her flesh—her immortal flesh!—part under his claws, and realized that once again Battleworld was having its way. The Lizard’s animalistic desire was being realized—at the cost of Amora’s beauty. “Vermin!” she shrieked as she struck him down.
“You shall pay dearly for this affront to my visage,” Amora said, holding the Lizard down with the force of her magic and watching the drops of her blood seep into Battleworld’s surface. “And you will pay for interrupting the consummation of a bargain.” The Lizard bared his teeth and hissed. “Honestly,” Amora said. “Do you think I am threatened by your noises? You might have saved Volcana’s life, but at the cost of your own!”
She reached out and clenched her fist, drawing the Lizard’s life energies forth in a single burst. Yes, she thought. This might be enough to get me back to Asgard…upon which return, I shall see Odin’s vengeance when he hears of the fate that has befallen his favored son.
