The sovereign of Latveria tilted his head slightly, staring at the Amazon princess through his metal mask, waiting for her next response.
Diana's eyes studied the intruder's mask more closely, trying to discern what lay beneath it—especially the eyes hidden behind the cold metal. It was the kind of presence that would intimidate any defenseless soul who crossed his path. She recognized that much. But no one intimidated her—not even Darkseid himself.
"Tell me! …Who are you?" Wonder Woman demanded again, her voice forceful.
The man remained silent, holding the same posture.
"Are you behind the theft of the Mother Box? What have you done with it?" Fury radiated from her, ready to strike.
"That box is valuable to me—valuable for purposes you cannot comprehend. But I have no time for idle talk, Amazon. You are the chosen one for something far greater than your petty heroics."
The metallic man's response was measured, steeped in arrogance.
Diana listened carefully. His English was elegant, tinged with a distinct Eastern European accent, filtered through a metallic voice modulator she immediately recognized from his first words. Her brow furrowed—confusion clashing with anger.
"Chosen? What are you talking about?"
"You will soon find out, heroine. You will come with me if you wish to fulfill it. If you refuse, you will suffer the power of Doom." The villain threatened.
Diana Prince lashed out with the Lasso of Truth, the golden arc snapping through the air to ensnare him. The rope wrapped around his armored torso, its divine magic activating as it sought to compel honesty.
"The Lasso of Truth will force you to tell me where you come from, who you are, and what your intentions are!" she demanded. The glow of the lasso intensified, its magic pressing insistently against Doom's will.
Doom's right metallic hand seized the lasso, his palm crackling as bluish electricity surged through the cord. The shock struck Diana unexpectedly—sharp, burning her palms and forcing her to release it with a gasp of pain. The lasso fell to the floor, its glow dimming against the smooth cafeteria surface. Diana dropped to one knee from the impact.
"No one binds Doom," he growled, his voice thick with fury. "No one will save you. I have hacked the weak security systems of your precious space station—far inferior to my own. Your Justice League is blind right now."
Diana was stunned. Her mind raced, confirming her fears—this being had nothing but malicious intent.
"What are you planning to do with all the information you hacked? Destroy us? Are you a puppet of Luthor or Vandal?" Diana muttered.
"Enough questions!" Doom snapped impatiently.
"By Hera! I will beat answers out of you and then turn you over to my allies—for invading our privacy!" she roared, charging forward with the speed of Hermes, not giving the masked man time to react.
Her fist slammed into his armored chest, the impact hurling Doom into the reinforced wall of the Watchtower. The structure trembled slightly under the force, a small crack forming in the steel.
Doom groaned—a rare sound of pain escaping his mask as he slumped against the wall, his cape tangled in debris. He hadn't predicted this. The blow had hurt him—far more than it should have. Diana Prince of Themyscira was a powerful and formidable warrior, just as the data he had collected indicated.
Doom tried to rise, but inside him the burning agony returned, his strength undermined by the parasite gnawing at him from within—slowly, relentlessly—despite the stabilizing spells. Victor straightened, his armor creaking, and faced her again, his mask hiding the strain.
"I don't need anyone to save me. I can defeat you on my own," Diana declared, her voice ringing with resolve. She stood defiant, fists clenched, eyes blazing with righteous fury.
"We shall see, Amazon," Doom replied, suppressing another wave of pain with a pulse of magic.
With no other choice, Doom summoned dark purple magic from his metallic hands, threaded with bright white flashes pulsing with malicious intent. With a sharp gesture, he unleashed a barrage of violet energy constructs, each crackling with sorcery. The air within the Watchtower shrieked as the energies hurtled toward Diana.
But she was a warrior born of gods.
Her reflexes—honed on the battlefields of Themyscira—sent her into motion. She dove aside, her body a blur as she dodged one blast, twisted to evade another. Magical projectiles scorched the walls behind her, leaving blackened marks across the pristine surfaces of the Watchtower. A third blast grazed her arm, searing the edge of her bracer. She gritted her teeth and pressed forward, undeterred.
"Is this sorcery? …Where did this man come from?" she thought as she dodged another attack.
Undaunted, Diana surged forward, her right fist blazing with Amazon fury. She aimed for his mask—her strength more than enough to shatter steel. Doom reacted instantly, conjuring a translucent green energy shield that flared around him. Its surface absorbed the blow with a resonant hum. The impact reverberated through the cafeteria, rattling the remaining tables.
Inside his armor, Doom staggered—not from her strength, but from his own weakness. The curse flared again inside him, slicing through his body like a blade cutting cake over and over in a vicious loop. Another wave of pain. Then another. His shield wavered, flickering under the strain.
Diana's eyes burned with righteous wrath. She struck again, her fist hammering the shield with mountain-crushing force. The green barrier flickered violently, then shattered like glass beneath her relentless assault, fragments of green energy dissolving into the air.
Doom stumbled backward, his armored boots skidding across the slick floor. Shock rippled through him at how easily she dismantled his defenses. Diana had him cornered—but wounded, Doom countered by invoking a Latverian arcane spell, green energy woven through intricate hand patterns. A brilliant wall of green force erupted inches from her.
Diana braced herself, crossing her bracers to deflect the blast—but the sheer power hurled her backward, her boots sliding across the polished floor as she fought to regain balance.
"Is this the power of Themyscira's champion? A mere mortal could do better!" Doom's metallic voice echoed through the chaos, dripping with mockery despite his pain. The taunt was deliberate—meant to provoke.
Doom began to levitate, preparing another devastating spell.
Diana's determination did not waver. With a speed that would rival Superman or Supergirl, she shot forward, closing the distance. Her fist arced toward his masked face.
The blow landed with a sickening crunch, sending Doom reeling. He crashed into a cluster of metal tables, smashing them beneath his weight, his body slamming to the ground with a thunderous impact.
The force tore his hood away—and catastrophically, his mask was knocked loose, clattering across the floor in a cacophony of metal-on-metal, coming to rest inches from his fallen body.
"By Zeus… what is that?" Diana whispered in shock, hovering in the air.
She froze as Doom rose painfully from the floor, his face revealed.
To her, it looked like something out of a 1930s or 1940s horror film—worse than Frankenstein. His face was burned and grotesquely disfigured, skin a mosaic of scars, raw tissue, and unhealed wounds that bled as though his own flesh rebelled against him. His brown eyes burned with manic intensity—twin points of malevolent light in a ruined visage. The back of his head gleamed unnaturally, metal fused with flesh—a grotesque hybrid of man and machine.
"Hera… preserve me," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she stared at the nightmare before her.
Now steady, Doom seized her moment of hesitation. With his exposed face unflinching, he unleashed a powerful green magical blast from his left metallic palm.
Diana, guard lowered, was caught completely off guard by the sight of his face. The attack struck her, erupting in an explosion that spared the structure but sent her body flying into the cafeteria kitchen behind her. She smashed through the wall, crashing into shelves packed with utensils—plates, glasses, cutlery, and pots raining down upon the Amazon.
As the clatter of shattering dishes filled the air, Victor von Doom groaned irritably and retrieved his mask from the floor, snapping it back into place with practiced ease. The metal sealed shut, restoring his impenetrable façade.
"You see my true face for the first time—and you hesitate. A mistake." His voice now echoed once more through the mask.
Doom walked slowly into the kitchen, his emerald cape dragging behind him, each step deliberate despite the pain coursing through his body. He passed through the gaping hole connecting the dining hall to the kitchen.
Inside, standing over her, the ruler of Latveria saw the Princess of Themyscira unconscious and defeated beside a shattered shelf, her body sprawled amid scattered pots, broken glass, shattered plates, and cutlery strewn across the floor.
"Time to take you to Latveria," Doom murmured, crouching to her level, ready to claim her.
To his surprise, Diana's eyes snapped open—and she smiled.
She surged up with sudden speed, grabbing Doom by the collar of his green tunic and lifting the tyrant slightly off the ground. Doom, tall and imposing, hadn't expected this. Despite the returning pain and exhaustion, he remained eerily calm, grimacing as his metallic arms hung loose.
Diana slammed him into another kitchen wall, cracking it. Her gaze was locked onto him, staring into the evil eyes behind the mask.
"I'll ask you again—who are you?" she shouted, fury blazing as she held him there.
"Doom warned you—he will answer nothing, Diana Prince. Soon… you will belong to him," the sovereign of Latveria murmured coldly.
"I belong to no one! What do you mean by Doom? What does that mean?" Her voice echoed through the room. "You answer me now or I will break your damn mask and every bone in your body!"
"I would not do that if I were you, hero," Von Doom said with authority.
"What did you say? Stop threatening me—you don't know who you're dealing with. I've beaten you, disfigured man," Diana shot back.
"If you only knew, Amazon. Right now, you are facing someone who is about to vanish from the face of the Earth," Doom replied arrogantly. "Someone enduring a divine plague he did not foresee."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Diana said, still holding him against the wall.
"You are foolish! I expected better from a descendant of Greek gods," Victor von Doom snarled through his robotic voice. "Being surrounded by your stinking heroic colleagues has dulled your understanding."
"Enough! I will tear you apart until you tell me the truth!" Diana roared, drawing back her right fist.
"Before you move, Amazon—damaging Doom's face further is beyond your right. You are beneath him."
"I don't care, disfigured monster—machine, demon, sorcerer—whatever you are. Keep talking," Wonder Woman threatened.
"I warned you," the Latverian villain murmured.
Diana exploded with rage and hurled her punch toward his mask. As she did, she noticed his eyes suddenly change color—from brown to glowing pink. The rose-colored light flared, striking her irises like an optical assault.
Her attack faltered.
She released Doom, clutching her eyes.
"What did you do?!" Diana cried, gasping as if a camera flash had gone off inches from her face.
Behind his mask, Doom smiled darkly.
Moments later, the discomfort vanished. Her vision cleared. Everything felt… normal.
"What did you do to me?" Wonder Woman asked, stunned.
"Your congratulatory gift—from Doom."
"What…?" Diana felt an inexplicable peace settle over her.
Doom crossed his arms, watching her. Diana noticed the air shift—no longer smelling of ash and battle, but of rosemary, thyme, sage, and lavender. Strange.
"You!" she roared and lunged to grab him again—but—
"Stop," the hooded man commanded.
She froze.
She tried to grab him—but her arms felt weak, slow. Doom effortlessly sidestepped her sluggish movements. She felt no hostility toward him.
What did he do to me? she wondered. There was no magical disturbance in her mind—no pain.
"You have lost, Amazon," Doom murmured grandly.
"No! You will talk—!" she shouted, trying to seize him.
She never saw the green magical blast coming.
The powerful strike sent Diana flying through the cafeteria counter window, slamming into the massive Watchtower windows overlooking space and Earth. Cracks spiderwebbed across the glass as she fell to the floor, eyes closed, her golden tiara landing softly in her lap.
She heard Doom's metallic footsteps approaching.
Seconds passed.
Diana opened her eyes to see him standing over her, darkness cloaking his form, his white eyes fixed on her—eyes that killed.
Out of the corner of her vision, she saw the Lasso of Truth lying meters away.
She was cornered.
No sword.
No shield.
No lasso.
Defenseless.
She hadn't felt this way since Ares… or Medusa… had defeated her.
But she was an Amazon warrior. Not weak. She would not fail her mother Hippolyta—nor her sisters, Nubia, Antiope, and Donna.
Her spirit surged back into her veins.
She tried to rise.
"Sleep."
Diana Prince saw only darkness.
------------------------------
Universe 616 (Multiverse Marvel)
Baxter Building, Manhattan, New York
In Reed Richards' personal laboratory inside the iconic futuristic building in New York, specifically on the 33rd floor, the air hummed with the soft whir of quantum processors and the faint glow of holographic screens. Reed Richards himself—Mr. Fantastic—the bearded man with white streaks in his dark hair, was hunched over his workstation. His iconic blue-and-black Fantastic Four suit clung to his elastic form like a second skin, the white circular emblem with the bold "4" standing out at the center of his chest. His white lab coat hung open, its long sleeves loose.
The laboratory was a chaotic symphony of innovation: a workbench cluttered with various semi-assembled devices, dimensional probes, energy analyzers, and new prototypes of superhero and space suits. Blue walls were lined with mounted screens flickering with streams of data from global satellites, quantum entanglement monitors, and multiversal scanners.
Reed's fingers danced across the keyboard of his main display, which showed an image of the Latverian Embassy from a distance—a mid-sized, innovative structure blending medieval aesthetics with the smooth materials characteristic of New York buildings. Most striking was a tower made of stone from Latveria itself, similar to those of Doom's castle. The Latverian flag waved in the daytime wind above the diplomatic structure. The image came from a surveillance camera belonging to the Baxter Building, positioned far from Doom's property. At the bottom, the date read 20/07/2024. It was a recording.
The brow of one of the smartest men in the world furrowed in concentration as he fast-forwarded the footage to nighttime on that date. Nothing out of the ordinary. Cars and people passed by, and in particular he saw Spider-Man in his red-and-blue suit swinging nearby. No sign of his archenemy, rival, and former college roommate, Victor von Doom. He switched to the recording from the following day—everything was the same. No Doom. He repeated the process. Same result. Again. The same…
Reed was frustrated. There had been no signs of Victor for the past eight months. Not even one of his Doom replicas, which Reed would recognize instantly. Doom was being a ghost, as he always had been—but this felt different. Normally, Doom disappeared for a month, maybe two at most. The recordings from all these recent months, which Reed had reviewed over the past two weeks, only showed von Doom's ally and champion, Victorious. She, in her golden armor, green cape, and staff, entered and exited the embassy, backed by men and women—representatives, secretaries, and Doom's advisers.
In addition, Doom's adopted son, Kristoff Vernard, replaced Zora on some days—the young man, around twenty-five years old, entering the place wearing his orange Latverian prince's shirt with an emerald cape flowing behind him, likewise accompanied by advisers. At times, Victorious entered alone or exited accompanied by Kristoff, heading toward a limousine bearing Latverian symbols. No Victor.
Normally, Mr. Fantastic would not give much importance to his rival's disappearances. He knew Doom was always plotting something against him and his family, or attempting to take over the world once again. Reed had tried to contact him countless times, hacking into the security network of Doom Castle, but none of Doom's bots responded, nor did Zora Vukovic—only rejection after rejection.
What truly unsettled the elastic man was that Victor had forgotten his daughter Valeria Richards' birthday in April.
It was August now. There had been no contact at all from Valeria's godfather during these eight months that Doom had been off the radar. Doom had missed Valeria's twelfth birthday—no gift sent by one of his robots, no holographic message from the villain. Victor never forgot her birthday. Valeria had told her father that before her birthday, Doom had already gone silent—no communication, no calls. She had tried calling her uncle before, during, and after her birthday, but nothing.
Doom might be a dictator, a terrorist, or an egocentric man—but he was never careless with Valeria.
Reed remembered that Val had gone to the embassy three times during this period, but unfortunately she always ran into Zora Vukovic. The woman had thrown her out each time without giving her any information about the whereabouts of the ruler of Latveria. Reed had assumed Doom was inside his castle. There were no reports of panic among the Latverian population. Moreover, Doom had been seen in Symkarian territory for diplomatic matters five months earlier, according to media from Symkaria and Latveria's neighboring countries.
Additionally, the leader of the Fantastic Four and the Future Foundation had heard rumors that Doom had secretly entered the UN headquarters one night in March. There was no evidence of it—perhaps Victor himself had erased it to avoid trouble and confrontation with the Avengers.
Speaking of which, about a month and a half ago, Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D., had contacted the Avengers, the X-Men, and especially Reed. A fragment belonging to the Cosmic Cube—recently destroyed to stop the Mad Titan Thanos from using it again for his evil intentions against the cosmos—had been secured. It was a blue crystal similar to an Infinity Gem, guarded aboard a S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier for study. It was confirmed to contain between 1 and 3% of the Cosmic Cube's total power. Not enough for Doom to replicate a full cube. But knowing Doom, he might be capable. The mere thought sent chills down Reed's spine. Still, he was certain, as always, that they would defeat him again if it came to that. Reed wondered why Doom would want to replicate the Cosmic Cube when he had been unable to fully control it during his last encounter with the object.
Returning to Fury's words, the African-American man with the black eyepatch had explained that the crystal had been stolen and that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security system had been temporarily hacked. The location where the crystal was stored had been left empty. The security camera watching the object had been completely frozen—S.H.I.E.L.D.'s IT experts could not undo it. Fury had contacted Daisy Johnson, a.k.a. Quake, who managed to break the hack in three days. It was difficult. Nick had told Reed that Daisy confirmed the invasive patterns originated from Latveria. Victor von Doom was involved. It was not Hammer, nor an infiltrator from A.I.M. or HYDRA trying to decipher a power they could not wield.
Because of this, Reed warned his daughter not to go to Latveria and forbade her from using one of his ships. He suspected Doom was planning something "big," but it was strange—no public appearances, not even for Valeria, despite the fact that Doom never neglected his goddaughter. If Val wanted to know her uncle's whereabouts, she would have to wait. She had nodded reluctantly. Reed had seen the mixture of worry and disappointment in his daughter's eyes, particularly toward her uncle.
Mr. Fantastic rubbed his beard, trying to think more about Victor's situation, recalling that Doom's butler and adoptive father, Boris Karela, had died last year from cancer—Valeria had informed him. Reed had sent his condolences through Doom's network, but he did not know whether Victor had seen or read the message. There was no reply. Typical of Victor. Reed had considered that Doom's disappearance might be due to depression after losing someone important—but that explanation did not fit Doom. He knew him too well.
Aside from the Christmas gift Doom had sent Valeria on Christmas Eve, Reed had not seen Victor in person since their confrontation on the tyrant's own island—Doom Island. That incident caused a conflict and misunderstanding involving mutants, all orchestrated by Doom in his attempt to reclaim the power of Reed's son Franklin Richards, with the mutant Kitty Pryde caught in the middle. The new Sentinel robots, built by Doom himself, were part of that event.
According to the sensors of Reed's satellite network, there had been no movement from the tyrant on his island since then. The abandoned lunar embassy of Latveria was also ruled out. Doom was located only within his own castle—his perfect hideout and fortress. Reed knew Victor had surrounded Latveria with a magical field enhanced by scientific ingenuity over time, impossible to dismantle, according to Stephen Strange. It was impossible for sensors to detect temporal, dimensional, or multiversal anomalies within Doom's country—an obstacle Reed could not overcome with pure science. Victor was very cunning.
Reed typed again, switching the footage to a map of Earth via the satellite network. The screen turned black with infrared lights outlining countries. He rewound older recordings in automatic mode, like a loop. Everything was normal. He focused on countries near Latveria—no alerts, no dimensional or temporal residue, nothing related to the Negative Zone, the Quantum Realm, portals to other planets, or multiversal breaches. He could not detect portals or magical residue; his technology lacked that capability. There were also no traces of cosmic power anywhere on the planet related to the crystal, suggesting Doom could not replicate the Cosmic Cube's power. That was his assumption. Reed did not know what to think. He changed the target to New York. Seconds passed. Everything was normal.
Reed frowned more deeply, touching the white streak at his temple with a finger. He would have to contact Strange about Doom's situation. He could not forcibly enter the Latverian Embassy or interrogate Victorious. Doom forbade any hero from entering the premises, and even traveling to or entering Latveria was impossible unless Doom was in a good mood. Infiltrating Latverian properties was also out of the question—Doom's forces guarded them, protected by diplomatic immunity.
Suddenly, the image on the screen changed to familiar coordinates. Nick Fury's face appeared, filling the display—the African-American man with a black eyepatch over his left eye, his stern gaze capable of making anyone without courage tremble. Behind him, large screens were used by S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel reviewing advanced algorithms.
"Richards. Have you found out more about von Doom's whereabouts and intentions? Has he appeared to threaten you?" Fury asked in an authoritative tone, without greeting the Fantastic Four's leader.
"Nothing, Fury. It's as if his magic swallowed him whole. I'm 60% certain I haven't detected any temporal, multiversal, or dimensional residue around Latveria. There's no evidence he's replicated the Cube's power with the crystal, based on my assumptions. The magical field over Latveria is beyond my equations. I have no idea what he's planning by cutting himself off from the world like this," Reed replied honestly.
"I'm aware von Doom hasn't shown himself this year. According to my reports, neither he nor his Doombots have been seen roaming Europe since his single appearance in Symkaria in March. Braddock confirms it—Sable and Namor as well," Fury said in his characteristic tone. "Before that appearance, he was seen sneaking into UN headquarters one night that same month. I suspect he went to threaten the Secretary-General. Nothing unusual was observed afterward—Guterres was fine. I must conclude that UN relations with Latveria are tense."
Reed remained silent, processing Fury's words.
"Additionally, from the images Johnson recovered from Doom's hack, I recognized a Doombot taking the crystal. I contacted Strange about the situation—he confirmed he detected neither Doom's magical signature nor his presence in New York, Europe, Asia, or anywhere in the world except Latveria. He said he'll keep an eye on him," Fury continued. "However, Doom's loyalists are present at the embassy. According to the media, they refuse to say anything about Doctor Doom. Meanwhile, Latveria's alliances, diplomatic relations, and trade remain active."
"I don't know how to handle this confusing situation with Doom, Fury. It's complicated. We can't go to Latveria, the embassy, or his island to investigate. Doom covered everything well. His diplomatic immunity is a bonus, as always. We can't violate it," Reed replied candidly.
"I hate that you're right, Richards. We can't do anything—for now. Time will reveal the man's whereabouts and intentions. Stark and Rogers are on alert for a potential Doom attack," Fury said.
"I'll keep looking for ways to reach Doom—pull him out of his seclusion or disappearance. Val is deeply worried about him," Reed said, his right hand clenching into a fist.
"Good. I won't take up more of your time. I'll keep investigating," Fury replied curtly. "Give my regards to the team—and to Storm."
"Roger that."
Nick Fury's image disappeared, returning the screen to the infrared-lit world map. Reed no longer paid attention. He had only one person on his mind.
"Victor… what are you doing… if you're planning something against me… it's time you came out… Valeria is suffering because of you," the elastic man thought, tension tightening his features.
------------------------------
Castle Doom, Doomstadt, Latveria
"Wow! I didn't expect that from you, ruler of Latveria—you've obtained a great relic." Ratri's voice said in Victor's mind, her tone sexual and pleased.
Doctor Doom mentally ignored the supposed witch or demigoddess of lust—whatever she was. He was typing at the main console of his laboratory, images of Wonder Woman and a Doombot appearing on the screen. The Doombot was pure metal in color, with emerald patterns decorating its body. Both images were displayed side by side, and between them a circular loading or waiting symbol spun. Doom was feeding the images and information he had obtained about Diana Prince into the Doombot so it could adapt them in its own way, becoming an exact replica of Wonder Woman. This would not take long.
He had sent the Doombot ten minutes ago to Prime Earth—specifically to the Watchtower. Fortunately, none of her fellow heroes were present. An hour had passed in that world since he confronted Diana Prince and brought her to Latveria. She was now on the first floor of his laboratory, unconscious and captured. Victor von Doom made sure to repair the damage done to the Watchtower with the help of his magic, and he also placed a camouflage spell over the site. He could not risk the mages of that world detecting him during this moment of weakness caused by his internal affliction. Now, the Doombot was only fixing minor details in the area that might be detected by the heroes of the other world, should they investigate. Lastly, his metal puppet was protected from them.
As the computer's loading continued, everything proceeded according to his calculations. Suddenly, Doom's thoughts turned to a purple-and-green stain—Kang.
"That meddling chrononaut hasn't shown up again, leaving me free to orchestrate this tactic alone." The sovereign of Latveria thought irritably. "I hope he suffers a temporal stroke he won't foresee when he finds out I slipped out of his plans."
Doom affirmed this subtly toward the mental image of the time traveler. He simply fixed a sinister expression on the emptiness. Finally, the loading finished. On the screen, the image of Wonder Woman merged with the Doombot, fusing together. What appeared now was Wonder Woman's face with the Doombot's red eyes.
"The process was a complete success, Lord Doom." said the system's mechanical voice.
Doom merely held his sinister gaze on the screen. It was done.
"Victor! If you're finished with your inventions, then you won't ignore me from now on!" Ratri's inner voice said in his mind.
"Doom takes no orders from you." He threatened mentally, directing the thought at her.
"Sweetheart, you're following my motivations of sexual conquest. You used one of my powers on that woman. That means I'm manipulating you, silly." the demigoddess of lust spoke mentally.
"Ugh! You are nothing but a tool. I have no other option to achieve my goal. Don't forget you're inside my territory—so I'm the one in charge." the masked man thought forcefully. "Once I've fulfilled my objective, I'll find a way to remove you from me and seal you again as a grimoire. Better yet, I'll erase you from this world."
"You can't kill me, sweetheart. I'm the daughter of the goddess of lust. I'm immortal," the woman replied mentally, her voice firm. "But I like your attitude and your verbal dominance over me. I love it! I'll never leave you. I've found someone interesting after thousands of years. We share the same desires—conquest. You through scientific, magical, and political means, and I through perversion and intimacy. Together we complete the puzzle…"
"Enough!" He thought authoritatively.
Ratri merely smiled within his mind.
"Sweetheart, to keep things calm, I'll give you my opinion about this woman we captured."
"Ours?" The ruler of Latveria thought irritably.
"Yes, sweetheart. I told you—I don't have a preferred gender. I like men and women. Reading your thoughts, you'd be considered bisexual, though I don't think I belong to that category. I proclaim myself pansexual—updating myself, dear." Ratri murmured mentally.
"Ugh! Doom does not share what he has obtained." Doom continued irritably.
"You'll see soon, Victor. Our bond, formed with my divine power when you freed me from the book, is based on sharing rewards and satisfying each other. In short, I am yours and you are mine."
"You talk too much. It would be better if I silenced you now!" the man in the mask and green cloak threatened.
"You can't hurt me, sweetheart. We're bound in this. If you hurt me, you hurt yourself too. Hahaha!" the woman mocked him in his mind.
Doom merely let out an irritated growl. He regretted freeing her—she was annoying—as he clenched his metal fists.
"Let's focus instead on our main prey. This woman from the other world we captured is exquisite—someone powerful, a demigoddess like me. Her beauty surpasses that of women from your own world, no offense. I expected you to capture that heroine She-Hulk, Invisible Woman, someone you had your eye on before, or Captain Marvel. I enjoy it all!" the woman's voice continued.
"How do you know so much…?" Doom thought.
"Our bond, master. That's why I know everything about you—your past, your memories, victories, and defeats." the female voice interrupted again.
"If you even think of mentioning those—"
"I won't, master. I understand. On the other hand, your plan to obtain an heir with this woman called Diana Prince will require using more of my pheromone powers. She will enjoy you as if it were the most natural thing in the world," she spoke in Doom's mind. "And you should know this, Victor. Sex cures all ailments and diseases."
She said the last part with an air of mystery.
"What do you mean!" von Doom thought sharply.
There was no answer.
"Answer me!"
Nothing.
"Answer to Doom!"
Nothing again.
Doom continued trying to make mental contact with the woman inside him. There was nothing. Everything was the same. The woman's inner voice vanished from the ruler of Latveria's mind.
"So you want to play with Doom. Wait until you speak in my mind again—what awaits you will be exactly what you claim to desire…" Doom said aloud, his tone uncharacteristically strained. He felt strange. He chose to ignore everything that had just happened.
Now he had to focus on Diana Prince—and on his future heir.
///
"Where am I?" murmured the Princess of Themyscira as her eyes slowly cleared. Diana Prince saw that she was in an unfamiliar technological laboratory; around her, advanced machines hummed, coming to life on their own.
"Where the hell am I?" She thought.