For the third part of the PAX DOOM story-arc, read AVENGERS #18

Latveria
Castle Doom

Franklin Richards stared wide-eyed and fearful, backing away behind the bulk of Lockjaw as the storeroom exploded in a fiery display of bright lights and hot energy. Being the son of Mister Fantastic and the Invisible Woman he was used to such sights, but always in the presence of his father, in the safety of his mother the pyrotechnics had never, ever bothered him before. Now however…

Franklin huddled behind the Inhuman’s huge dog, watching as the Vision faded in and out of sight, his body paling as his density increased and decreased within the space of heartbeats. His dark eyes shot fire, twin beams of solar energy lancing out against the protective screens of the man that he was fighting, and trying to save Franklin from:

Doctor Doom!

Franklin knew the Vision. He was a robot- no- an android, and an Avenger too. He was a hero, and a strong one, but he was fighting Doctor Doom. Even his father -–the smartest man on the planet and Mister Fantastic hisself spoke about Doctor Doom with ‘spect.

But Franklin knew Doc Doom too. He was a villain mostly, but Franklin knew that Doom was different. He was a king, ruler of that place called Latveria, and his people thought he was a good one; fair an’ just. But Doc Doom hated his daddy and mommy, and Unca’ Ben and Unca’ Johnny too. Franklin never really understood why, why they were always fightin’, but he did know that Doc Doom was a different kind of villain. He was one a’ the BIG one’s, an’ he always did what he did for a reason, daddy said. Some BIG reason…

This time Doom had said that he was keeping Franklin safe to help save the world. That’s why he took in the ‘vengers too he said, an’ Cap’n Marvel. But Cap’n Marvel didn’t trust Doom, an’ now the Vision was fightin’ him. So maybe…

Franklin did not understand as he hunkered closer to Lockjaw, crouching down as Doctor Doom and the Vision blasted away at each other. The Vision’s eye beams just bounced off of Doom’s armor, and the blasts that came out of Doom’s gloves passed right through the Avenger. They were both destroying the vast storeroom that they were all in, but they did not seem to care, they were so intent on the battle. Nothing in the room belonged to the Vision, and whatever was in here was apparently not important enough for Doom to care.

“Fool synthezoid,” Doom shouted as he raised an arm and pointed a finger at the Vision. Franklin gasped as small rocks poured out of Doom’s finger and started to grow as they shot towards the Avenger, massing and tumbling in an airborne avalanche. They passed right through him though, smashing instead into stacked wooden crates, plowing right through those and into the thick stone wall behind. “I am the Master of Robotics! Do you think me so ill prepared as to not have studied you in minute detail? Your body was flayed by the Americans some time ago, and your deepest, darkest secrets were laid bare for the entire world to see. But of course, only the brilliance of Doom could hope to interpret the workings of your quasi-human existence.

“Over the years I have studied you all, android. Doom knows your weaknesses and fears. Your Avengers, the thrice-cursed Fantastic Four, the X-Men… There are no secrets from Doom. None to stand against me!”

“Yet you continue to be defeated,” Franklin heard the Vision answer, shivering at the coldness of the android’s voice. He sounded… different too, Franklin thought, weaker almost. “Your time and brilliance are ill-spent, Doctor. Think of the good your vast resources might accomplish if you simply redirected your motivation.”

“Bah!” Doom snarled, a red flash of energy shooting from his gauntleted hands. Franklin saw the Vision land, his body darkening as the stone under his feet cracked and sagged. Franklin knew he had gotten heavy just then, and the red ray blast simply bounced away, smashing into the far wall. Franklin had to squint into the light just to see beyond the impact.

“None may fathom the machinations of Doom, android; not you or Richards, and certainly not that simpleton Rogers. The child is key in saving this world, perhaps this very reality from a far greater danger than you all allege me to be. He shall fulfill his true destiny, with my assistance and guidance, and none shall stand in my way.”

Franklin licked his lips at that, wondering what Doctor Doom meant. It couldn’t be good. No sir…

“Lockjaw,” Franklin whispered, clutching his fist into the dog’s thick, flabby fur. The great inhuman beast turned its massive head, yawning as it glanced at Franklin, licking its wide chops with a long, flapping tongue. “We gotta get outta here, boy. I dunno what Doc Doom wants with me, but daddy always said Doom was a bad guy, so it can’t be good. Take me to daddy, Lockjaw. Take me to my mommy.”

The huge dog stared at Franklin for a long moment as energy crashed again off the walls, lighting the vast storeroom. Fire crackled in the far corner, smoke clotting the air as dust filtered down from the ceiling. The great beast seemed to consider, then lightning began to spark and crackle from the tiny antennae that sprang from his brow. The heaved, breathing deeply –

And Lockjaw howled in agony!

PAX DOOM

Part IV: The Voice of Doom!

By Curtis Fernlund

Doomstadt
The Raven Wood

Reed Richards’ eyes bulged ever so slightly as he ran forward. His eyesight and peripheral vision thus enhanced he scanned the surrounding area not only for encroaching danger, but too the status of the battle’s combatants. Most especially, he looked for his wife.

He saw Johnny first and most apparent, the fiery form of the Human Torch blazing over the treeline and swooping lower through the thick flora whenever space allowed. He was controlling his flame well through the ever-verdant greenery that flourished throughout the greater environs of Latveria. Though the Torch might fantasize about setting the countryside ablaze, especially now under the adverse circumstances of their latest sojourn, he knew better.

Seeing Johnny flying in alone and unharmed however gave Reed Richards a slight swell of pride. It meant that he had defeated Prince Namor, the Savage Sub-Mariner. Over the years the Atlantean monarch had been one of the Fantastic Four’s greatest foes – and ally, he mentally added – and had most often fought the four of them to at least a standstill. Knowing that Johnny had apparently defeated Namor alone showed just how much the Torch had grown over the years.

Still scanning the impromptu battlefield Richards was taken aback to see an armorless Anthony Stark paralleling his own course through the trees. Stark was dressed only in a skintight pair of biker shorts and scuba shoes by the look, discounting the complex apparatus affixed to his brow that at a casual glance revealed itself to be a remote control device. No doubt Stark had been manipulating his armor via remote at a distance in his fight against the Invisible Woman. Whether a brilliant stratagem or simple regard for Susan’s greater power did not really matter. The mere fact that Stark was up and running sent both a shiver of fear and anger through him.

Stark had somehow managed to beat his wife, improbable as it seemed, and that brought Richards’ anger rising to the surface. If he hurt her…

But no. As swiftly as the ire climbed it fell away again. Reed Richards did not believe for an instant that the Avengers had wittingly and knowingly kidnapped Franklin any more than he believed that Tony Stark would willingly fatally harm his wife. Stark was as brilliant as Mister Fantastic in his own way and fields of expertise, and Reed had to acknowledge that given time the man would come up with a solution to dealing with any problem, including the almost unlimited might of the Invisible Woman.

Anthony Stark was a great mind in his own right, and had a side of deviousness to him in matters pertaining to business in whatever form it took. That showed even recently when the industrialist had joined forces with the likes of T’Challa, SHIELD and others to buy control of Reed Richards patents and strained corporation. If he applied that mind of business to battle, Richards knew that Stark would be a very dangerous opponent. Ironic then how SHIELD had turned on Stark in the end, destroying his Manhattan mansion – Avengers Headquarters for the past many years – and forcing the Avengers themselves to ally with the likes of Victor Von Doom.

Still, Richards hesitated, dividing his attention between the final two combatants apparently; Nick Fury and Captain America still engaged in hand-to-hand combat, while watching both Johnny and Stark racing forward as he continued to scan the area, now looking for his wife. He saw instead Rage; the youth Elvin Holiday kneeling beside the downed form of Samuel Guthrie; Cannonball.

The two young men were close to the same age, Reed knew, but it was there basically that the similarities ended. Beyond the obvious differences in race, Rage was a physical brute compared to the slimmer Cannonball, while Guthrie had years of experience under his belt; first being trained as a New Mutant and X-Man under the scrutiny of the likes of Charles Xavier, Cyclops and Wolverine, and now as an Avenger under the tutelage of Captain America himself. Richards knew that Rage was strong and resilient in his own right, which was why he had suggested the Warrior to replace the absent Ben Grimm, but Cannonball was near impervious when his Mutant power of ‘blasting’ was being employed. How Elvin had defeated Sam Guthrie would remain a momentary mystery however, as Rage seemed bruised and battered as well as beside himself with grief as he knelt beside the still form of Cannonball.

But still no sign of Susan.

Reed had defeated Carol Danvers; Warbird almost easily, employing a neural inhibitor that basically paralyzed the woman once known as Ms. Marvel. She was lying safely and out of sight, and most likely so was Sue, yet that brought a new thought to mind. Where were the Vision and Captain Marvel?

Fury’s briefing claimed that both were active with the Avengers of late, though the latter had seemingly disappeared even before the assault on Avengers’ Mansion. The Vision however had been there, yet now was mysteriously absent, and that gave Reed Richards a moment’s pause.

Reed stopped his charge forward, his mind racing as he scrutinized the scene. He saw Johnny conjuring fireballs within his cupped hands, his line of approach angling towards Stark who was still running towards Captain America and Fury. Richards willed his pliable form back to normal, waiting momentarily, standing almost casually and acting the easy target. Strategy dictated that the Vision, were he watching for opportunity, would strike the seemingly ignorant foe from below, phasing through the earth intangibly and then partially solidifying within the unprepared body of Reed Richards. It was a gamble of course, but for a man with total molecular control of his own form Mister Fantastic had often theorized that he would be able to compensate against such an attack.

The attack never came however, which meant that the Vision was preoccupied elsewhere, and the most logical location would be Doom’s castle. There was apparently a greater detail to Captain America’s stratagem than was blatantly obvious.

Could the Avengers be crossing Doom even as they fought against the Fantastic Four? Perhaps that would account for the missing Genis-Vell as well. Was the Cosmic Avenger a prisoner of Doom even as was Franklin? That would indeed explain a great many discrepancies throughout the pointless battle. Warbird had sworn that they had no knowledge of Doom’s having Franklin, and perhaps they were likewise ignorant of Marvel’s whereabouts. But what were the implications?

Even Reed Richards’ mind boggled at the potential of power that Doom might access from the combined source of Genis-Vell and his own son. Franklin’s own abilities were potentially godlike in scope, if tapped. Between Richards’ own endeavors and Franklin’s natural safeguards, those powers had lain dormant for some time. Doom of course was brilliant enough in his own right to bypass those safety measures and release Franklin’s Mutant gift. And Captain Marvel was the appointed Guardian of the Universe, and though Reed did not fully comprehend the entire ramifications of just what that title allowed, he did know that Captain Marvel was in a league of cosmic proportions that only a handful of others could attain. Others such as the Silver Surfer…

“Oh no…”

Reed Richards visibly paled as all the random elements finally and neatly slid into place. It was an old ploy of Doom’s, and one that he had tried time and time again. From the Silver Surfer, to the Beyonder, and even Daredevil one strange day, Doom had always lusted for power supreme for various reasons, absolute rule quite often being the least in his chaotic mind. It was obvious now the true intent of his recent machinations, and like children they had all been led in the direction he desired. Why Doom wanted his greatest foes present was not yet clear, but the distraction that he had created by forcing the two teams into combat had to end now, before someone was injured, if that had not already occurred.

A blaze of fire interrupted Reed Richards from his thought process, and as he turned he saw the Torch blazing past Stark in a strafing run, blasting the ground on either side of the man with streams of almost plasmatic fire. Stark was racing almost blindly, but Reed could see that Johnny was not actually trying to hit the man, but herd him instead. Even as Richards began to stretch forward he saw the Torch weave a cage of flame about Tony Stark, well away from Fury and Captain America to help, though close enough to hear. Good…

Mister Fantastic willed his body forward, glad that Johnny had calmed. He just hoped that the rest would soon follow suit.

Fury was feeling the strain. He was gettin’ old, no doubt about it.

Once upon a time goin’ a dozen rounds with the Star-Spangled Avenger, he wouldn’t a’ even worked up a sweat. But he was sweatin’ now, an’ breathin’ hard ta boot. Granted, the Infinity Formula kept him from feelin’ his age most a’ the time, but it wasn’t no Fountain a’ Youth, not by a long shot. Goin’ toe ta toe with Rogers was pushin’ him to his limits. Not that he’d ever admit it a’ course.

About the only bright side was that he could see the strain on Rogers’ face too. Without his shield, the old warhorse was just another fighter, just like him. Granted again, he wuz probably THE best fighter on the planet (another fact that Fury would never admit to), but even he wuz havin’ a hard time against the likes a’ Colonel Nicolas Fury, Director of SHIELD.

Fury side-stepped as Cap shot a quick jab at his jaw, the colonel bringing up an arm to block the blow to the side even as he raised his left leg to block the accompanying sidekick. A simple feint, and telegraphed ta boot. Fury almost felt insulted until the sweeping backhand looped back around and clipped him in the temple. Sneaky bastard was thinkin’ way too many moves ahead, but then, fury was no slouch either.

Nick Fury rolled with the blow, just grazing and without force enough to do more than sting. He dropped and rolled, scissoring his legs to whip about and bring his boot heels at Cap’s knees only to strike empty air. Captain America was vaulting over him, trying to get behind him and Nick had to scramble to turn himself about. He saw Rogers land lithely after twisting in mid-leap in order to be facing him again. He landed low, knees bent and shot out a straight kick that Fury barely dodged.

While Cap sprang to his feet, Fury rolled again, hugging his chest and dipping his hand into the pocketed compartments of his suit. He reached blindly as he struggled to gain his knees and flung whatever he had grabbed outward, two handfuls of capsules. He saw Rogers flip backwards even as the small pellets exploded, spewing gas and sparks of dazzling light. Distractions really, and Cap was way too savvy ta get caught out like that. Still, it was enough.

Fury stood, trying not to heave and gasp as Cap landed, striking a defensive pose. Nick licked his lips, trying not to grin to see Rogers struggling to hide his own heavy breathing. They had done this a time or two now; back in Spy School, an’ a couple years later when Fury had thought that Rogers wuz makin’ a play for Val. That had turned out ta be nothin’, nothin’ but Fury actin’ the ass an’ jealous when the Contessa Valentina De Allegro had wanted him ta be, just cuz he wuz makin’ time with Laura Brown fer about a heartbeat. Go figger women.

One day though, Fury knew it would be for keeps. Maybe not this time, cuz he hoped Winghead would come ta his senses and see the light a’ day, but some time. Fury knew one day it would be him or Rogers. Not a pretty thought.

“Ya ready ta surrender, Cap?” Fury said finally when he thought his voice would not betray him.

“Are you, Nick?” Rogers asked, almost smirking. “I can keep this up all day. Every time you need to rest I get my second wind. You look tired, Nick.”

“I am tired, Rogers. Tired a yer sanctimonious attitude an’ thinkin’ yer better n’ me. I was beatin’ up on Nips an’ Krauts when you wuz still wishin’ you weren’t 4F. You been wavin’ yer flag so long yer startin’ ta believe yer own hype – again. Up ta me ta knock ya down a few pegs I guess.”

“This isn’t about me Nick, or us, or even whatever bile that the president’s ‘Yes’ men have been feeding you. Our country’s corrupted, Nick, and that corruption is way at the top. How can you possibly believe that the Avengers are criminals in the eyes of the state? All the times that we’ve saved the world, the universe for that matter-”

“Save it, mister!” Fury snapped, standing tall again. “Ya can say an’ believe what ya want, but ta ally with Doom? That ain’t never the answer.”

“We’ve both been on the wrong side of the law too many times to count, Nick,” Cap responded. “You know there are extenuating circumstances-”

“Geez, Rogers,” Fury said, moving forward even as Captain America adjusted his stance to defend. “What’d ya swallow a dictionary? Ain’t no circumstance when it comes ta Doom. I – ”

Nick Fury’s eye widened as his voice caught in his throat. There was a sudden silence, and a pressure about his head that seemed a migraine, but coming from the outside. He could not draw breath, and almost immediately he felt weak as his oxygen supply faded. He saw Cap was equally surprised, his red gauntleted hands pressed against some invisible bubble encompassing his head…

Oh shit…

Fury turned and saw that everything had come to a halt. He had been so caught up in his rivalry with Captain America that he did not even realize that the other battles had been decided. He saw Stark trapped in a flaming cage. He saw Rage shambling slowly forward and carrying the limp and bloody body of Cannonball. The Human Torch hovered overhead, while Reed Richards elongated, his body looping about the shapely form of his wife. The Invisible Woman looked fried, her golden hair frazzled as she strode forward with a grim look of determination.

“It stops now,” Susan Richards said, and Fury felt the pressure about his head triple. She had a bubble of force about his head, cutting off the oxygen and squeezing. He saw spots exploding in his sight. “I’m going to find my son,” she continued, “if I have to pull apart Doom’s castle brick by brick. You all can help me, or you can stay out of my way.”

She gestured and both he and Cap rose slightly into the air, dangling on her lines of force and strangling. Captain America was squirming, trying to break free, but Fury knew there was no chance…

“Susan…”

Fury barely heard Richards as his hand snaked out to touch her shoulder. She seemed to flinch, just a little, but then relaxed. She glanced at her husband, still frowning.

“Susan… Let them go. It’s over.”

Fury saw Sue Richards staring daggers at her husband. He did not back down however, and finally Fury felt the pressure ease. He and Cap fell to the dirt in unison. Both were gasping for breath as the bubbles of force vanished.

Nick Fury watched as Reed Richards directed the Torch to stand down and release Stark as well from his flaming cage. Tony came running up even as Rage approached, laying Cannonball onto the ground before them.

“He’s hurt,” Rage started, and Fury could hear the tension and worry in his voice. It was hard to remember that Rage was still a teenager. Hell, Guthrie was barely a little older. “I – I didn’t mean to…”

Cap was crouching down at Cannonball’s side. The Star-Spangled Avenger knew First Aid, just like Fury, but he didn’t know how bad off the kid might be. Rogers was probing for injuries.

“Broken arm, and concussed probably.” The Avenger looked up to Rage. “What did you do?”

“I…”

“He did what needed ta be done, Rogers,” Fury said. “Just like the rest of us. Ya dance with the devil, ya gotta be ready ta pay the price. Just so happens when dealin’ with Doom, that price comes high.”

“We need to talk, Cap,” Richards said, stepping to his wife’s side. She was still enraged, Fury could see that she was ready to keep fighting but Richards put an arm about her waist and she eased off, if just a little. “This has gotten way out of hand. Doom’s playing us all for fools, but I think I’ve finally discerned what he has planned.” Fury saw Captain America nod.

“I agree,” Cap said as he stretched out Guthrie’s broken arm, looking for help to set it. “Don’t even believe that we did not know that Doom had a hidden agenda. Even now the Vision is investigating. As soon as he gets in touch – ”

And as if on cue, a portion of the structure of Castle Doom exploded outward…

Castle Doom

The Vision paused at the sound of the inhuman howl of agony. Automatically his external sensors expanded to isolate the source of the sound, and almost immediately he saw the Inhuman beast, Lockjaw, collapse to the ground, his massive form radiating with a dancing charge of electrical energy. The huge dog heaved, once… twice… then lay still. And young Franklin Richards stood there with his face a masque of horror and shock.

“Lockjaw?”

“As I stated…”

The Vision almost flinched as his audio receptors focused on the voice of Doom. He turned, his body shifting in density, anticipating attack, but his visual reference showed the monarch of Latveria simply standing, laughing as his armor redirected energies.

“I have studied you all, each and every one in detail. The Inhumans especially with their bizarre yet unique powers, and their dog specifically with his ability to transverse the dimensional barriers. Though his powers were without bounds however, I found his demeanor to be too unwieldy. His devotion is to the Elemental Crystal, and though once I had illusions to his power taking me on a quest to Hell and back, I dismissed the idea. Doom does not associate with the lesser beasts.

“I did however discern a means to counter the mongrel’s abilities at my whim. He thus remains trapped, his energies siphoned and redistributed amongst my various home battery sources when he tries to teleport now. Not unlike your own, synthezoid.”

The Vision seemed almost startled as he looked back to Doom in confusion. His mechanical mind sifted through the details of all that he had heard and seen, everything that he had experienced over the last few minutes and realized that indeed his performance was far under peak proficiency. He was losing power at a remarkable rate, though he had not known until he had investigated internally.

“You see, robot, as I said, I am your master. I know what makes you tick, the full implications of your internal clockwork precision, and more. You derive your power from the solar energy that that jewel on your brow absorbs. A power receptor of amazing complexity and simplicity all in one. A simple matter for me – or anyone for that matter – to cut you off from your external source of power and push you until your internal batteries have been stressed to their limits. Are you feeling the burn yet, android? Finding it hard to sort data, or assimilate function? Tapping your reserves yet, robot?”

The Vision stared at Doom, realizing that he had been played the fool. The monarch of Latveria had been one step ahead all the time. The Vision let his rejuvenation protocols divert his waning power to better defend and utilize, but as the internal read outs flashed across his visual depository he saw that he was almost depleted of power both ready and reserve. Doom had cut off his solar intake, pushing his output beyond means and not allowing replenishment of any amount. The Vision estimated power shut down ranging in seconds…

“Franklin! Run!” he shouted, willing his body to phase immaterial at some strain, but Doom was ready.

“Fool,” the Lord of Latveria stated as he stepped forward, his gauntleted metal fist extended and crackling with energy. “I’ve yet to decipher the intricacies of molecular discorporation, but I have gleaned enough information to counter the likes of Shadow Cat… and you.” Doom slipped his hand into the incorporeal form of the android, and the Vision screamed.

Short and quick, it sounded almost human, the agony in his voice. It reminded him of years past, before he had been remade after being taken apart by the United States government for trying to unify the world. The sound echoed throughout his memory and internal Hard Drive, logging data with every resounding reverberation. If he was allowed to awaken, he would recall and compensate. For now however, he simply shut down…

Doom stood triumphant, as always, as it should be, staring down at the lesser form of man now heaped at his feet. The outcome of the battle had never been in doubt. It was simply a matter of duration.

Victor Von Doom raised an arm, started tapping codes on the keyboard imbedded and all but hidden on the forearm plate of his armor. The scan spread immediately at his command, incorporating all information emanating from the burnt husk that had been perhaps the closest resembling form of robotics that had almost achieved true humanity. Once the download was complete, Doom would transfer data to his own mainframe where protocols would investigate every nuance of the android’s make-up, collating and organizing the information for future reference. One never knew, after all. There was always chance, that rare hand of fickle fate that had brought his dreams crashing down far too often. Knowledge was power after all.

Doctor Doom let the protocols run, the computer programs proceeding of their own accord as he glanced across the chamber. The vast storeroom was in a shambled mess, fires burning and irreplaceable hardware destroyed in the aftermath of their battle. Something had actually exploded and blown out a portion of the wall. They had both forced their respective hands, trying not to harm the child and in turn paying little to no heed of their surroundings. Doom would have Anders do a thorough search of what remained afterwards, but for now the potential gain far outweighed the loss.

He turned, his metal mask impassive as he stared at the bulk of the inhuman canine lying unconscious near the boy. The Richards child was commendable. Doom could see the tears in his eyes but he was straining not to cry, not to show fear. No doubt due to Susan Richards’ influence rather than her husband’s. Doom knew that she was always the strongest of the quartet, and the one to fear at the worst. Richards was always lost in his work, a pale shadow of his betters. Doom gave credit to the woman, and her work in rearing her Mutant child.

“Dry your eyes, child,” Doom said finally striding forward. “Lay aside your fears. The time has come.”

Franklin Richards looked up and licked his lips. His big blue eyes were wide with fear, fear of the unexpected rather than the sheer terror of the moment. He did not know what to expect, but was ready to deal with it by the looks. His time with the Powers children no doubt, and the rearing by his outstanding mother. Pity Susan had been so… soiled by Reed Richards. She would have made a queen of some reckoning.

“Wha… What do you mean? I – I want my mommy…”

Doom smirked, though his expression was lost behind the thick metal of his mask. Time to show the whelp just who was the better man.

“I have drained the mongrel of his transdimensional abilities just as I have siphoned your savior’s reserves. All power has been diverted to my machines sequestered away in the very depths of my castle, in my private laboratories. Genis-Vell awaits patiently to provide the Cosmic Awareness I require to control the vast resources locked away within your immature form. I simply need to transfer your latent abilities, boy, and combine them with all the others in order to fend off that which would alter reality. I do not kill children as a rule, but circumstance dictates a sacrifice. Thankfully it is the get of Richards. Your contribution shall be appreciated one day, I’m sure.”

“Hunh?”

The child stared at Doom in baffled disbelief. Doom did not care, and in afterthought, should have known. Richards’ stunted and Mongoloid son was far too repressed to understand and deserved his fate. Reed Richards had manipulated his son over the years, trying to command the power rather than let it run its course. More the pity. More the fool.

Doom placed a hand on the child’s head, running a hand through the golden mane of hair. Such innocence, and ignorance.

“All your dreams shall be realized soon, boy. Trust in Doom…”

Doom scowled as the child whined for his mother. So disgusting…

Anger washed through Susan Richards as she sent her power forth.

The gates of the castle fell to her mildest gesture, the invisible force surging forward and rolling through Doom’s defenses with little resistance. She watched as the gates fell, the Doombots set as sentry crumbling before her might and whim. Confidently she strode forward.

Damn Doom!

Damn the man and his dreams. He had crossed the line when he had stolen her son. Now he would pay!

Light flared. She felt the quick burst of energy as radiation burned about her. With a casual thought she redirected her shields against the new onslaught, looking towards the line of Doombots arrayed, firing their weapons in hopes of delaying the invading force. Captain America stood at her side, his shield raised and deflecting the onslaught. Johnny blazed by overhead, throwing fire. Fury fired his guns.

Fodder…

They did not understand. Not even Johnny and Reed. Especially not Reed.

Doom had crossed the line when he had stolen her son. Ben would understand. He had seen the travesty on the Moon. He had killed Maximus at last, and Susan understood what he had known and seen. There were limits and lines. Maximus had reached his, and now, so had Doom.

With a wave of her hand Susan Richards shattered the Doombots in a surge of invisible force. She ignored the squeal of gears, the rending of metal as the machines ruptured and blew apart at her command. They were unliving obstacles standing between her and her son, and she would not suffer their delay.

She strode forward…

“Susan!”

She ignored Reed’s voice as she went forward. A glance and a wall crumbled. A look and the floor buckled. There was a brief eruption of light that she contained, an explosion within a bubble and defensive guns blew themselves apart. Stone heaved in her wake as she let her power slip forth. Cameras burst and sensors frazzled and fried.

“Coming for you…” she whispered, pointing at an armored man, ignoring his screams as his metallic shielding crumpled and bent in on his tender flesh. He fell to the ground unmoving, breathing just so as she stepped past.

“I’m coming for you, Doom…”

Doom tossed the child into the chamber and slammed the door, locking it in place. He stared after young Franklin for a moment, watching as the Richards’ whelp stood and beat on the plasticene walls of his temporary prison. Then he stepped away.

It was time. The wolves were at the gate and he would not be denied again.

“Doom! Don’t do this!”

Victor Von Doom barely glanced at the Kree scum, Genis-Vell as he stood within his own inescapable chamber. Apparently the so-called Guardian of the Universe had finally given up and accepted his fate, still standing within his own cubicle, no longer seeking his freedom.

Mar-Vell would not have given up so easily.

Doom glanced at the pale imitation. It was depressing, this next generation. No heart and soul…

No pride.

He deserved his fate.

“Silence.”

Doom moved to the controls. He scanned the panel, his fingers straying lightly, floating across the top and depressing buttons, flipping switches to set the power surge to build. He heard the Richards child scream first, as expected, but not too long after the Kree half-breed whined as loudly and as long. Doom ignored the pathetic pleas, going about his business, setting the process.

Soon…

“It’s the Vision,” Fury said, staring at the crumpled heap of the android. Iron Man was soaring above the blaze, putting out the fire while the rest stared at the fallen Avenger.

“He’s been drained,” Warbird said, standing over the lifeless hulk. “Not an Amp of power.”

“Doom no doubt,” Captain America said, adjusting the shield on his arm. “Strange that he would need the Vision’s power for his schemes.”

“I doubt that he did,” Reed Richards countered, scanning the limp form with a small handheld device. “The Vision was a victim of circumstance I think. Lockjaw there was the real point of Doom’s assault.

All eyes turned as Samuel Guthrie stood, shaking his head. “Dog’s alive, near as I can tell. Just out.” He gripped his broken arm, wincing slightly as he rubbed the shattered limb set in plastic and fiber. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s not meant for any of us to understand, Cannonball,” Mister Fantastic offered with a glum frown. “Doom thinks in his own way, which is why he is so hard to defeat. I can speculate, but in the end, it’s all Doom.”

Cannonball looked to his comrades for explanation, but only Warbird shrugged and smiled. “Don’t worry about it, slick.” Carol Danvers gave a final glance at the heap that was the Vision, then moved towards the door. “I’ve been doing this for awhile now, and I still can’t read between the lines.”

“What about him,” Cannonball asked, indicating the Vision.

“Leave ‘im,” Fury said. “If we survive, we’ll come back.”

Cannonball watched as the Avengers and the Fantastic Four moved on. He had to assume that they knew better, but it rankled to leave a fellow behind. Wolverine wouldn’t have done that. Or Cyclops…

Genis-Vell writhed as the energy coursed through his body. His arms and legs had gone numb, all of his extremities. He had never known such pain, or such absence…

He saw Doom.

He saw that gray and stoic face staring at him. Impossible as it seemed that cold and impassive face seemed to twist into a smile…

“Herein lies the face of my alienation. Parted thus, and yet separate. I feel the need…”

Doom laughed, working his controls. Genis screamed again as he felt a surge wash through him, and a little more of his soul and being slipped away.

He saw Franklin staring, a spark of gold festering in his now vacant eyes…

Something shifted, and Genis felt his world slip away…

“Whoa…”

Warbird staggered, almost fell but for the sure hand of Captain America grabbing at her elbow and keeping her on her feet. She was sweating and trembling, and as she looked about the world seemed to swirl.

“Carol?”

She looked at Tony stark and saw his face twisting in confusion. Something was obscuring her view, making the world swirl away in a wash of color and sound that had nothing to do with the world. Here was reality set on its side. Here was abnormality.

God she needed a drink.

Her stomach churned as she tried to focus. Overhead she could see the flow of power as it sifted and drained into the sieve that was the world. All energy flowed forward, her own included, and disappearing into the hole of that reality that hovered over all. What it was she had no idea, but it sucked at her very soul and being. All power…

She was shaking…

“Help…”

Stark felt the drain as well. His batteries were screaming as the power siphoned out. Whatever he did seemed to jump in the spectrum, washing away like the tide on the beach, leaving nothing and something, old and new in its wake.

“Fuck this…”

Stark shifted his reserves, setting the armor’s absorption ratio to obscene as he felt his energy reserves filtering away. There was something happening, Something on a Doom scale that he could not quite comprehend as yet. The Latverian monarch was siphoning any and all energy at an ungodly rate, the castle itself being a veritable sponge for anything and all mechanical, and beyond.

Stark saw Warbird suffering, as well as Rage and Cannonball, and even the Torch. Only Sue Richards seemed unaffected, and he could not understand why. What did she have that set her apart from the rest? Reed was sweating bullets now, but she kept going. Johnny Storm too. What kept her above the rest?

Susan Richards gestured and sent a wave of invisible force forward. The half-dozen Doombots guarding the final door staggered and pulped as they flew back against the wall. Sue ignored their high-pitched squeals of mercy – or was that simply their internal gears grinding at her onslaught?

She did not care. She waved her hand and swept them away.

Franklin lay beyond this final door. Her son. Waiting…

“Susan?’

She glanced at Reed, recognizing his voice. He seemed hesitant, holding her back. She stared at the ‘Heroes’…

“What?”

“Sis?”

She looked at her brother. He stood there amidst the Avengers, fire lapping at his skin. So pathetic…

“Something to say, Johnny?” she said, turning back to the door. Light flickered, filtering beneath the frame. Her brother went silent.

“Mrs. Richards,” Captain America said, but he was hesitant. Was that fear she heard in his voice? “You should stand down. We need to attack Doom en masse.”

“Try to keep up, Captain.”

Susan thought, and the doors flew away.

Without hesitation she stepped forward, into the darkness beyond.

Light flared and Susan Richards fell…

Doom laughed.

Johnny Storm stared wide-eyed and fearful as his flames flickered and fizzled. He felt the power cosmic seeping out of him, washing away as though spiraling down the drain. The drain that was Doom!

He looked about and saw the others just as weak and useless and confused…

Warbird sagged as her energy powers evaporated, blowing away in the wind.

Iron Man settled to earth, his armor suddenly cold and useless.

Cannonball’s ‘Blast’ died away.

Rage sagged.

Captain America shifted his shield and stepped forward…

“Surrender Doom,” he said, standing proud. “We’ve discovered your ploy. Reed Richards has figured your plan, as always. The Avengers and the Fantastic Four stand ready to lay you low. Give up.”

“To the likes of you?” Doom asked as energy crackled from his armor. The universe had opened before him, and ultimate power was there for the taking, but still…

Still…

“The world stands on the threshold, Captain. I am your only hope of survival.”

A wave of force rolled forward and Doom fell, caught in its riptide. With but a thought the man shifted, standing aright again, but Susan Richards, suddenly back on her feet laid on…

“Johnny…”

The Human Torch blasted away without question. His sister had called and he answered. Fire poured from his hands, laying waste to that area that Doom occupied. Trees burned and water evaporated away. The very ground bucked and rippled in the heat. Doom laughed…

“I am Doom…”

And that was all. There was a feeling of pressure, of power…

Stark locked up, his armor frozen as he dropped from the sky.

Captain America felt his muscles freeze, his shield dangling as he fell to the dirt.

The world expanded for Mister Fantastic, his molecules spreading out…

Oxygen ceased to be, and Johnny Storm gasped, falling.

Rage dropped to his knees as his muscles tensed, constricting.

Cannonball plowed into the ground.

Warbird screamed.

Sub-Mariner writhed as the liquid evaporated from his body.

The Invisible Woman staggered, her mind racing as she gathered strength. She looked to Doom.

“I thank you,” Doom said, standing proudly, crossing his arms in defiance.

Susan Richards heard her son. His pathetic whimpering. His screams…

Doom laughed again…

NEXT: Read the conclusion to “Pax Doom” in the pages of AVENGERS #19!