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0.
An American professor visiting Latveria ① was captivated by the genius of seventeen-year-old Victor and arranged for him to study abroad at a prestigious university in the United States. The professor marveled that Victor might even rival the American prodigy who had been admitted to MIT at the age of fifteen. That was the very first time Victor heard that man’s name—Tony Stark—but it would certainly not be the last.
1.
When he truly left his homeland, bidding farewell to Boris the caretaker, Victor stepped into a mechanical birdcage for the first time. As it pierced through the clouds, the world outside the window grew miniscule, then suddenly immense. The tents, the trees, and the mountains belonging to his people were still there; the murderers of his parents still enjoyed a glorious reputation, while everything Victor had lost did not even possess a proper tombstone. Only when the bird cut through the crest of the heavens, leaving nothing but snow-white clouds in Victor's field of vision, did he truly abandon his native soil.
Victor pricked up his ears, listening to what people from all over the world, crowded together in a single aircraft, would talk about during these hours suspended far away from the mundane earth. This was precisely why he learned multiple languages—only by breaking through the barriers of speech could he barely graze the margins of human thought. Then, for the second time, everyone was talking about that man’s feat of being admitted to a renowned university at fifteen. It turned out the American professor had suddenly rushed back to his home country just to attend that boy’s matriculation ceremony. Victor clumsily mimicked the professor’s pronunciation from his casual chatter...
"Tony Stark," Victor said.
2.
The moment he first set foot on the American continent, Victor swiped the newspaper from the adjacent seat. Thus, the man’s image leaped vividly off the page. Differing from the blonde-haired, blue-eyed impression Americans usually left on the world, this man possessed thick, dark hair and azure eyes, carrying the countenance of a shrewd businessman that instantly set off alarm bells in one’s heart.
Before leaving the airport, Victor tore out the front-page image. He crumpled and destroyed the useless scraps of paper, yet his mouth repeatedly murmured a single name. He kept on until that strange cadence chimed in unison with his heart rate. At that moment, Victor finally resembled a true Romani—wandering in a foreign land, accustomed to thievery, yet singing and dancing along.
3.
There was nothing extraordinary about attending the state university in New York. Without external enemies hunting him down, Victor immersed himself in all sciences, refusing to overlook any field. People told Victor that he had learned more in a single year than those professors had in their entire lifetimes, and so he began to receive research grants... ②
He no longer cared about that man. Even though Victor compared his own achievements to his more than once; even though Victor would stare at maps, delusionally hoping that the man was secretly tracking his whereabouts; even though Victor had truly cast him to the back of his mind for less than a year and a half—when the heads of the Stark family passed away in a car crash, the overwhelming deluge of news about Tony Stark gripped his heart once more. "Tony Stark," Victor muttered the man's name, but this time, he understood the man's agony, understood it intimately. And then, he let the man fade from his sight again, like someone accepting an enforced destiny after weeping until losing their voice.
4.
The next media frenzy arrived when an American man, from a background similar to the Stark family, was caught by paparazzi sharing a farewell with Tony at an airport. All at once, rumors regarding his sexuality spread like wildfire. Some claimed to have been courted by him; others declared they had witnessed him giving sexual innuendos to members of the same sex. Yet, no one called themselves his past lover, because no one could produce a single shred of evidence of ever being loved by him.
It wasn't until the man attended an event with a female lover, Sunset Bain, that the fervor gradually dissipated. But Victor had briefly, foolishly yearned, hoped, and extravagantly wished to capture the gaze of Tony Stark.
5.
Victor was indeed not infatuated with the Tony Stark who dominated the front pages of major tabloids. Instead, a rising star in a technological publication captured Victor's entire attention. Sifting out the mediocre dregs from the numerous contributors to tech magazines had always been Victor’s extracurricular hobby. Every Tuesday afternoon, he would go to the library to borrow the latest issue of *Future Tech Weekly*. By that very evening, emails dripping with sarcasm and pedantic challenges would be composed and sent out by his hand.
Then one day, a young man by the surname of Carbonell appeared in Victor's line of sight. A simple sign-off, a technological innovation Victor had never even conceptualized, and concise, powerful prose—word by word, sentence by sentence, it knocked upon the doors of Victor’s heart.
Within two months, this mysterious Carbonell published several articles. Victor bought every single issue of the weekly magazine featuring this enigmatic figure, studying them repeatedly through the night.
6.
Whether it was the naturally smooth, sarcastic tone or the rigorous yet entertaining choice of words, Victor began to fantasize about the person behind the text—a duplicate, a mirror image of Victor himself. Then, the illusion shattered, like a candle flame snuffed out by a gentle breeze, stripped of even the chance to burn.
Tony Stark stepped forward to claim his first steps toward a technological revolution at the age of sixteen. From being accepted to MIT by special dispensation, to graduating in just two years and completely taking over Stark Industries.
Yet, the hateful part was not his face plastered across every major newspaper, refusing to fade for months. Nor was it how he instantly became a national idol, hoisted onto a pedestal by a shallow populace. It wasn't even that the obnoxious Reed Richards praised him for his extraordinary genius. It was simply that *nobody knew Victor had discovered him first*. Nobody remembered that Victor had also sent emails greeting him; it was just that by now, they must have been buried beneath tens of thousands of private messages. Even that limited-edition weekly magazine Victor cherished was ruined by a greedy publisher—the moment fanatical followers heard his email address was inside, a single week's sales rivaled *Playboy*.
7.
Two years of superb academic performance earned Victor quite a handsome sum in scholarships, yet he funneled all those funds into his own grand design. Victor attempted to achieve through science what he had failed to do through magic—to enter the netherworld and commune with his mother. ③
Perhaps by then, when Victor had attained both fame and success, he could not only rescue his mother’s soul from the clutches of demons but truly step into that man’s line of sight with a nobler lineage. With a childish vanity, Victor threw himself into his subterranean laboratory, like a naughty child starved for his mother’s genuine praise. Yet, things never went as wished, and at this very moment, Destiny laid her trap.
8.
Just a single glance from afar. At a press conference surrounded by thousands, Tony’s arrogant gaze swept past. Perhaps for a fleeting instant, Tony was aware that at the center of this media conference—an environment always notorious for its hypocrisy—a genuine heart was beating, searching for a requiem exclusive to him. And with just this one millisecond of eye contact, Victor was utterly undone.
Victor refused to content himself with being a fish drowned by the sea, a bird swept away by the wind, an unnoticed soul. But when he truly stood before the man, his mountain-moving courage suddenly deflated. The gaze he so deeply craved remained fixed upon the lenses of the media cameras.
He desired fame too fiercely, and he needed fortune too desperately. Thus, even the lightest breath of Victor’s youth transformed into a sin.
9.
The phantoms of fire in his dreams and the piercing pain from his facial burns left Victor sleepless at night. The day after being expelled from the State University of New York, he lay in a hospital bed, penniless. Success had been but a single step away, but Victor had been too confident in his calculations, Destiny mocked.
"Good lord! It's Von Doom's laboratory!"
Reed's shouting voice was still so utterly loathsome. Ben and Reed rushed swiftly into the fire to rescue him. Miraculously, Victor and his assistant were not deprived of their lives by the force he had unleashed, but he was expelled from the school. ④
"Your calculations were flawed. The correct data should have been..." Countless nightmares were forged from Reed’s whispers, Ben’s mockery, his mother’s disappointment, and that man’s silhouette, forever standing at the absolute vanguard of the era.
Destiny laughed wildly as she dealt Victor a fatal blow. This grievance had nothing to do with romance or the moon; he buried his boundless fury deep within his chest, forever remembering the injustice of fate.
10.
Perhaps what the countless layers of snow on Mount Everest first recalled to Victor was not the day his father held him tightly until death, his soul vanishing into the blizzard, but rather the snow-white clouds witnessed on his flight to America.
Genghis the Great told Victor of a path never trodden by Westerners. Then, Doom donned his hood, turned away, and vanished into the vast, boundless snowy mountains. ⑤
*What would Tony Stark do if he were here?* Victor thought, but Doom did not care. Tony Stark was perhaps in America, enjoying his extravagant life, while Doom endured the lethal winds and bitter cold, crossing mountains and constantly trekking. Just like that, entirely alone, fleeing for his life for months, he crossed the roof of the world on foot until he reached his destination. Then he remained there, learned everything the monks possessed, and became their master!
"Pain? Pain is like love, like mercy! The playthings of the weak! What is pain to Doom? ⑥"
11.
Meeting Tony Stark again was perhaps a jest played by fate. Doom had purchased a batch of components from a branch division of the man's company. Doom originally thought this would be his opportunity to acquaint himself with Tony. He knew full well that a relationship forged on mutual interest was sturdier than any other, and finding a kindred spirit by chance encounter was a rare grace in this world.
Yet this time, Doom received nothing but a written notice canceling the transaction, implying he had attempted bribery. In a fit of raging fury, Doom dispatched his most advanced mechanical legion to retrieve the components that rightfully belonged to him. Not for destruction, but for the development of the Time Square, and even more so for humanity to successfully tame that fierce beast known as Time.
When Iron Man arrived—the most favored lapdog by that man's side—it served as the perfect vent for his wrath. What right did a bodyguard, who couldn't even protect his own master, have to judge Doom? According to intelligence from his informants and the sneaky movements of the rebel army led by Zorba, Tony himself had clearly arrived in Latveria, yet he refused to show his face. If Tony openly declared his dissatisfaction with Doom's dictatorial rule, then Doom would show the man exactly how thoroughly mistaken he was. Doom even believed that he could win Tony’s favor through sheer capability.
For that man's sake, Doom would not hunt down Tony's servant just because Iron Man miscommunicated his master's words. He would merely sigh that one of the world's greatest futurists had simply fallen in with the wrong company.
"Then let it be so. I have given you my precious patience, and you have received it all. If you still refuse to leave this castle..." ⑦
12.
Had he known that the man’s underling would be so troublesome and persistent, Doom certainly would not have wasted another breath on him, which resulted in them being stranded in ancient Camelot, forced to cooperate through the night to develop a miniature Time Square to return to the modern era.
Yet, it had to be said—if the darling by Tony Stark's side possessed such a high understanding of electrodynamics, wouldn't the man himself be an absolute genius? They worked through the entire night, welding, testing, and redesigning without a single moment of rest; each gained a measure of respect for the other. Ultimately, regardless of the trials faced, when the first ray of sunlight pierced through the enveloping mist into the room, the two nodded in silent agreement and activated the final link. The veil of time was torn open...
"This adventure is at an end, and I shall fulfill my vow. But I hope you understand—Avenger, we shall inevitably meet again."
"I'll be waiting for that day."
The secret hidden beneath the identity of Iron Man would eventually be unraveled by Doom, but not right now. Perhaps Doom would feel gratified, perhaps he would feel remorseful, but more than anything, there would be an infinite, profound respect. ⑧
13.
A stretched black Lincoln brindled past Rae’s red supercar. Though she wondered why Tony had a guest at this hour, she quickly regained her composure. It was fine, Rae remembered—she was to pick him up at eight. Unfortunately, Tony would never be able to keep that appointment again, for the notorious dictator of Latveria was currently making his way to the man's villa.
Summer, California, the scream of the maid before she swooned—every bit of it annoyed Doom without exception. Yet all resentment vanished into thin air the moment he beheld Tony Stark in the flesh. Doom gestured for his subordinates to ensure the fallen maid was cared for. Doom’s gaze swept across Tony himself, but he could not presumptuously linger for too long. His burning gaze ultimately came to rest upon Renoir’s painting of the ballet dancers hanging in the hall.
Doom always presumed he understood the man, presumed he could control the entire board, presumed he possessed everything Tony could ever want. He did indeed possess it, yet he would never know what Tony sought from this barren land of his. But Doom knew what *he* wanted: boundless authority, infinite power, and a genuine heart that was within arm's reach yet entirely untouchable. Craving sincerity while prioritizing utility; an overwhelming tide of love, yet hidden away from the secular world.
"Of course, you expect to profit from it. I will give you whatever you deem reasonable in return..." ⑨
14.
"They crackle, they flash, they throb! Like a pair of lovers reunited after a long separation!"
Doom toyed with the powerful, tightly bound artifacts like a child encountering magic for the very first time. Yet, the black, sentient light instantly enveloped them both the moment Iron Man smashed through the wall.
"Iron Man! Stay back! Lest..."
What remained of his sanity caused Doom to harshly command Iron Man to steer clear. Such a perilous trap must never fall back into Tony's hands. But it was all too late. The black light erupted, erasing reality and expanding until it filled the entire room, swallowing the two most powerful warriors on Earth.
Countless fanged atoms lunged at Doom, and before his eyes, tailed humanoid creatures evolved at a staggering speed. The city of the future from Tony's dreams gradually materialized—it was Merlin the Archmage himself who had guided them both to the year 2093. Whether it was after Iron Man personally apprehended Andros Stark, or after Doom personally put an end to his future self, Doom discovered something within the historical archives of the future—elements of the future's past that he was never meant to know.
Iron Man and Doctor Doom stood side by side, waiting together for the verdict of destiny, as Merlin quietly chanted his incantation.
"I am quite satisfied, Iron Man. While I was here, I read a few things. This era has organized its past quite well. You would be surprised. In fact, there is one point in particular I wish to discuss with you after we return..." Being talkative had never been Doom's strong suit, just as turbulence is not the defining trait of ocean waves, yet there is always the gravitational pull of the tides directing the breath of the Earth, causing desire to suddenly rise and fall.
"Mr. Stark!" The eyes full of terror behind Iron Man's visor were an azure that Doom could scarce forget in three lifetimes—that was a shade of deep blue exclusive to Tony Stark. And then, his muse, his desire, his melody all faded away, and the past world instantly snapped back into stark black and white.
This is the law of magic: *you cannot take away anything you did not bring with you!* At this moment, the two phantoms of the future stared at each other, like lovers gazing across a void, like enemies fighting fearlessly, and even more like old friends feeling an immense emptiness in their hearts on the eve of parting.
"But I feel that certain matters remain unresolved."
"I agree, Doom. But I am afraid those matters must wait until next time."
"Yes, next time..." ⑩
15.
"Is this how you always handle emergencies? I cannot comprehend how Tony Stark hasn't gone bankrupt over these years, given that he actually hired an assistant as utterly useless as you."
Doom looked coldly at the late-arriving Iron Man. Over the years, Stark Industries had invited no shortage of calamities. Whether it was Tony Stark’s own addiction to alcohol or the avaricious glares of various wolves and vultures, irreversible damage had been dealt to the company Tony had so painstakingly built. Tony was actually merciful to a fault, almost endearingly so, to just let those foolish Americans taint his magnificent technological blueprints.
"Stop! Neutron radiation is a lethal weapon! I will not allow you to kill those..."
Doom cut off the roar coming from beneath the golden-red visor, glaring at the man’s presumptuous right hand. That hand was currently resting on his right shoulder, gripping the deltoid, the muscle there tensing up as if it still carried the lingering warmth of human flesh pressing against flesh.
"Do you like your right hand, Avenger? Do you wish to keep it?"
Doom not only refused to be governed by the man's mercy, but he turned that very mercy against the man for his own utility. So go ahead and mock destiny, while you still can.
"Mercy is a useful tool if employed correctly, but it must never govern your judgment."
"That will be your eternal weakness." ①①
After a pointless argument, Iron Man still agreed to stay behind to "evacuate" the military. Yes, look at him. Doom had once again secured dominance through the power of mercy, exploiting the overflowing compassion of Tony's underlings, mastering the weaknesses of human nature—completely unaware that one day, he too would become a silent lamb governed by mercy.
16.
Doom deceived Iron Man. Once again! Unfortunately, Hell did not trap him; Iron Man managed to escape. Once again! Destiny had always scoffed at mortals, and Doom had always prided himself as a man of destiny, even more so after obtaining the legendary Excalibur.
But his ideological counterpart in destiny did not think so, and thus Tony returned from Hell! Tony was caught off guard, his rhythm disrupted, but Iron Man would not give up. Unfortunately, neither would Doom. He sustained a relentless assault; Iron Man had to find another way out.
"You truly disappoint me."
Doom demanded in fury, jealousy, and despair. Iron Man had no right to exist by Tony Stark's side. He never should have. It should never have been a mysterious bodyguard whose very identity was classified standing beside that man. Several times, Doom had used that servant to play the part of the nominal master, hallucinating that he was drawing one step closer to the man. One step, and then another. This step could ascend to the heavens, or plummet into the dust below.
"Your master would never flee like a stray dog. He would utilize his intellect and creativity to forge a way out. But you..."
"Are not Anthony Stark." ①①
17.
If Iron Man—who was supposed to flee like a stray dog—turning back halfway and reaching the resting place of Excalibur's scabbard before Doom counted as bad news, then the subsequent glorious merging of the man and the scabbard was an absolute nightmare. Having just endured a round of onslaughts from demonic entities, the infinite power of Excalibur had indeed awakened the incarnation of evil. Had Iron Man not absorbed the scabbard, Doom would have already mastered this legendary power.
First came a single eye, and then an incarnation of death composed of countless eyeballs tore through time and space, carving a path out of the scalding, hellish fires of perdition.
"Mr. Busybody, this is exactly why I wanted Excalibur and the scabbard to be joined. The two combined might have offered a glimmer of hope, but now..."
Was it too late? Could not a single soul escape the consumption of the Grim Reaper? Never. It was still early! Doom tightly gripped Excalibur and looked toward the scabbard that belonged exclusively to him.
"Come on, Doom. Let's finish this."
"Avenger, perhaps compared to me, the credit for success should belong to you!" Doom had come to understand a little why Tony Stark would pour a fortune into the Avengers. Because it was truly worth it. Despite their differing stances, boundless courage would bring about the ultimate victory.
"But I don't know if I can do it. Science is my anchor, the only thing I can rely on. Acknowledging magic goes against everything I believe in!" Iron Man replied.
"Then believe in me. Acknowledging is not always the antithesis of belief. Sometimes, it merely means placing your trust in something more."
Doom forcefully drove Excalibur toward the reactor on Iron Man's chest. In the remaining seconds of his life, Doom felt as though he were wandering through a wonderland, witnessing the birth and destruction of a grander world.
Pain, revulsion, dread—no words could yet adequately express it all. Everything was enveloped by lightning like pale blue flames, or flames like lightning, until the two stood firm, and it slowly dissolved like a dream.
"This incantation will make you both forget what occurred."
Doom had long since accepted Merlin's reservations. Being ambitious was never his flaw, even if Iron Man still refused to admit it.
"Things change, even heroes. Why take the risk?.." ①①
All things are configured within endless transformations. A villain might one day become a hero, and a hero might transform into a villain. It is all nothing more than the balance of Yin and Yang within the universe.
18.
During a routine night patrol, Latverian patrol droids discovered an unstable cluster of tachyon particles in human form. Its vibration frequency was highly similar to the frequency of the Time Platform Doom had previously researched.
Doom immediately dispatched the nearest patrol droid to approach the anomaly. Through the monitor, a soaking wet Iron Man, adorned only with hand gauntlets and a visor, was fighting back. Doom could have killed this imposter, but he had other designs. The prisoner of the future awaited the judgment of the past.
But when Doom discovered that the person beneath the visor was none other than Tony Stark himself, he needed a reason, an excuse, a cause and effect. He wasn't supposed to appear here, was he? Doom's informants would never have the audacity to conceal Stark’s movements. Thus, Doom locked away that thief from the past or the future inside his heavily guarded laboratory. Here, the only specimen Doom truly treasured was this single individual, and that individual was just about to awaken.
"You!"
"Precisely, it is I, Victor von Doom, Sovereign of Latveria! Although my resources are somewhat depleted due to the vile betrayal of my former subordinate, Dreadknight... I remain an entity whom any opportunistic playboy ought to revere and obey!"
A fine opening speech, Doom thought. May he not catch the scent of conspiracy and alcohol on that man. Doom looked down from a height, stepping down the stairs one by one, taking in every bit of the desperation and haughtiness revealed in his expression.
"So, Anthony Stark, perhaps you can first explain how you obtained technology that rightfully belongs to Doom!" ①②
19.
Over the next few hours, this piece of news spread across the globe at the speed of light, like a shockwave.
"—Anthony Stark has passed away. The renowned and often controversial billionaire entrepreneur died early this morning after a prolonged illness. Next, Linda Donaldson brings us the detailed report..."
Had years of physical toll and emotional turmoil finally dealt the definitive, fatal blow to the billionaire industrialist's life? Under his little-known alter ego, would he never again don the armor of the Golden Avenger? Those who gathered to mourn this fallen warrior spanned from Bethany Cabe’s penthouse apartment... to the corridors of Avengers Mansion... to the kingdom of Latveria...
"Now, let us raise a glass to the memory of a worthy adversary, a man..."
Doom's throat bobbed slightly, yet he uttered nothing. Nothing could be coaxed out anymore. From the moment that horrific rumor reached his ears to now, when the hearsay had evidently become reality, Doom had been unable to swallow anything. Boiling, dark-green bile churned within his despairing, furious torso until his stomach had nothing left to expel. Just as there was no fitting word capable of defining this man's place in Doom's heart—love was too barren, hate too vacuous, admiration too distant. Only respect. For a proud, dictatorial ruler who held the world in contempt, it was all too fitting. Like a cold blade meeting the blazing sun.
"I order a national day of mourning." ①③
20.
Thus, all nightmares became reality. He could have handled it better, he could have... but he chose to conceal everything, and Doom had done the same.
At that time, the news of Tony Stark transforming into Iron Man under countless flashing cameras at a press conference—all to save a puppy and the surrounding crowd—had already spread through every street and alleyway. Faced with the ironclad evidence of the media, he grandly confessed, "I am Iron Man."
Without suspense, Doom accepted the reality placidly. Those matters he thought were covert operations, those intense arguments between the two, those foolish cat-and-mouse games—what was more despairing than being seen through was wearing the Emperor's new clothes yet drawing no notice whatsoever. A sincere heart was buried, nobody knew; at least, he did not know. Nor was anyone willing to believe that Doom possessed a heart too, and that man’s redundant, foolish mercy was the very key to breaking the deadlock. Doom could not explain it, much less articulate it; he merely felt as though a fractured heart was finally beating in its entirety, and everything had finally settled.
Doom would find a way. There would always be one. Hope is also despair. ④
21.
Before a completely shattered floor-to-ceiling window, amidst a sensory overload resembling thousands of infants weeping simultaneously, Tony Stark lay prostrate on the ground, cradling the Iron Man helmet, attempting to reboot his brain. At this moment, a biting, sarcastic mechanical voice rang out.
"How pathetic. Do you still call yourself a hero even now?"
At this point, less than half an hour had passed since Tony’s armor was stolen by an unknown organization at the conference.
Even if Tony lost everything he currently possessed—whether his status as an entrepreneur or his high-tech armor—to Doom, he remained a respected adversary, a trustworthy friend. As for "hero"—that overly naïve, theological identity was far too hypocritical for him. It was merely another facet of fast-food culture popularized by Americans.
"You are not Doom."
"Perceptive observation, Mr. Stark..."
"I am a Doombot, forged in the likeness of Victor von Doom to act in his stead when he is otherwise occupied. My master caught wind of your predicament..."
Whether an empty shell that could be personally inhabited was far too suspicious, given the abysmal impression Doom had left on the man or Iron Man over the years. Perhaps everything Doom did did not align with his station, but this was the most fitting thing an anonymous suitor could do. Just as the probability of a miracle occurring is one in a million, please consider this an inevitable impossibility along his vast timeline.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Wear me. My body can act autonomously when unoccupied, yet it is also a fully functional, wearable Doombat armor, possessing the same capabilities as the original... albeit with only a fraction of its power."
"This sounds entirely..."
Having ulterior motives? Full of schemes? Taking advantage of someone's vulnerability, or laced with ambiguity? All of it was merely because that man's life was far too precious. Doom could not endure losing what he had never possessed again. May that man not resemble sand held within a palm—the tighter it is grasped, the faster it slips away.
"...creepy."
"Why would Doom want to help me?"
"There will be time enough to answer everything afterward..." ①⑤
Everything, including the moldering truth...
22.
"Stark."
"I know..."
When everything finally settled, within an entirely private space, Tony connected the video call to Doom.
"...But I still want to thank you for your help. I have to admit, it was rather clever of you to get me to do your dirty work."
"Stark, you are not as foolish as you appear. Yes, it is true. I knew about the barbarian's plot all along."
"So why did you help me?"
"Because the one to bring you to your knees would not be some archaic relic of the Cold War..."
"...It would be me." ①⑥
And it could only be Doom who would walk to that point. So tell Doom, Goddess of Destiny—at least tell him—exactly how long did they walk before they arrived at opposite sides of each other? And how should they walk into the future?
Perhaps when he truly touches that tangible tomorrow, Doom will smile. He will fiercely mock destiny. May that day arrive a little sooner, at the very least, sooner than fate itself.
23.
"We bear the face of Doom. We speak with the voice of Doom. We execute the will of Doom."
"And you must submit to this will."
This was merely a benevolent reminder from Doom, was it not?
Tony was surrounded by five Doombots. Another failed negotiation; both parties saw through the situation with absolute clarity.
Except this time, Doom had already lost himself in weighing pros and cons. He continued to manipulate the most perilous forces in the world, yet he would also be defeated by the greatest magic in existence—defeated by his redundant feelings for Tony Stark.
"But then again... I am making you experience the worst part of it, am I not? After all, it is the absolute least I can do..."
"Only to let Doom truly become a god..."
Just as Tony was still attempting to contact his newly minted close friend on the Moon, a silhouette silently materialized behind him.
"Oh, dear. In this match, the King has already lost his pawn."
With a mere squeeze, Tony’s armor was shattered by the magic flowing from Doom's fingertips. He knew what he came for—to contest a highly precious and powerful new source element (Udarnik) discovered on the Moon. Yet he also did not know what he came for—to thwart destiny, for the past, and even more so for the future.
"So, while your companions are distracted... and you find yourself entirely alone and unaided on this side... all your technology is utterly meaningless before a power you cannot comprehend in the slightest..."
"Let us speak, just you and I." ①⑦
Heaven only knew how deeply Doom relished solitude, and Tony Stark was much the same—proudly, resolutely walking ahead of the era. Yet only Doom could truly understand him intimately, truly grant him everything he wished to possess...
24.
"Now you are nothing more than one of the mortals penned by Zarathustra, possessing boundless ambition yet lacking a single thing. Among those who are no longer great, those who enjoyed but a fleeting moment of glory, you are the finest, Stark. I am entirely willing to acknowledge this, but you are nothing more than that."
And then, he was thoroughly read.
"Hmm? I was just wondering how you came to be here, considering I know for a fact that Victor von Doom is currently on Earth."
"However, you are not Doom, are you? Or rather, you aren't him yet..."
"Speak up. You definitely want to talk about matters regarding the future, don't you?"
Thus, he willingly stepped into the unique trap, for Doom had journeyed from a desolate future back to a lonely past.
"You are stalling for time, hoping to escape, but you have nowhere to run."
"Why don't we lay our cards on the table then? Exactly how far into the future do you come from?"
"Not so distant. The Day of Judgment shall inevitably descend, Stark—the day when all things undergo a violent upheaval."
"When Doom holds sway over all!"
"And now... the hour has arrived. It is your turn, Stark."
"And the Philosopher's Stone? What do you intend to do with it?" Tony inquired unhurriedly, as though everything were perfectly within his grasp.
"Such power was never meant to be governed by a mortal vessel. It was meant to course through my very veins—cosmic alchemy."
"Every weakness within my being... shall be utterly incinerated... leaving behind nothing but pure Doom..."
"The true Doom!"
"Stark, I shall strip away your limbs inch by inch, torturing you until nothing remains."
"Are you serious? You ought to know full well that I've already defeated you before, haven't I?"
"Victor, drop it. I know we are currently on the Moon, no matter how real all of this appears."
"I understand the power of your magic. Even though I still do not believe in magic, this is most likely nothing more than an illusion you fabricated."
Doctor Doom roared in fury, yet Tony remained completely unmoved, continuing his discourse.
"You've spoken these exact words to me before, remember? Why must you deliver this grand, long-winded speech to me, Victor?"
"Because it was I who fashioned you!"
"That is the reason."
"You..."
"Do you remember once claiming that you possessed absolutely no weaknesses?"
"I briefly possessed one. It was once the most sophisticated supercomputer in the world... but its operating system was unexpectedly easy to breach."
"The human heart."
"Your inner heart, Victor." ①⑧
No, he knew it all? Every single bit of it. By the time Tony was completely covered by his armor, Doom—or rather, Victor—knew that they had both been played for fools by destiny once again.
25.
What does it feel like to be a beloved hero? Doom had pondered this more than once. What does it taste like when a hero is cast out by the very citizens he protects? What manner of glory is it to witness the execution of justice firsthand? And how could being treated exceptionally by that one-in-a-million individual not count as the primary stroke of fortune in this world?
Looking back, the universe is vast, yet one can only sigh at how love and hate entwine.
Yet Doom had peered into tens of thousands of parallel dimensions and stolen powers of staggering magnitude, but destiny had never granted Doom a single chance to know and love Tony, or even to simply become acquainted—not even once. They resembled fixed puzzle pieces, ultimately presenting a facade of harmony while remaining completely detached. Every opportunity to love was fought for by Doom himself. God pities mankind, even though his own vessel was on the verge of being swallowed whole by pain and resentment.
They say that lovers will ultimately find their union, while the loveless transform into solitary fledglings at the edge of the sky. Therefore, brave hero, sprint toward the future of futures. If Doom wishes to see that man, he will run to catch up with his footsteps. Wait for him in the future; he missed you dearly in the past as well.
26.
To be a hero or a villain—that is the question.
Turning open Shakespeare’s Hamlet, the eternal philosophy of life and death continues to enlighten mankind to this day. Doom once collected a manuscript penned by Shakespeare's own hand, but now, looking at the utter ruin strewn across Castle Doom, it seemed as though those memories of studying texts within arm's reach had been cast to the winds. Some works of art are worthy of ten thousand contemplating eyes, while others demand the decisive resolution of being burned upon reading. Compared to the rise of streaming media, Doom leaned more toward seeing and acquiring firsthand. Yet there were some works he dared not look upon, yet could never forget.
A commotion arose from the crowd, followed immediately by a massive sonic assault under which those speaking absolutely anything but English collapsed. Tony surveyed his surroundings, only to spot a single individual standing in stark silhouette against the light amidst the broken walls and debris.
"No need to thank me, Tony Stark."
"It's you, isn't it? Truly, immensely fortunate. I was just trying to find a way to contact you, and then you appeared..." The man spoke, yet his face remained obscured.
"I recognize this voice. This voice..." Tony looked at him in utter disbelief as he lightly leaped down from the ruins. The man was precisely the one he thought.
"It matters not if you fail to recognize me. The urgency of my search for you stems from the highly peculiar nature of our situation..."
"...We have a desperate need for one another." ①⑨
To be, or not to be—that is the question. Though Doom missed the initial cry of that man’s birth, by Destruction above, Doom was sincerely grateful that Tony Stark had been born into this world. With Tony above, every person of faith is praying for the manifestation of God.
Comic References Coded in Text:
①–⑥: Doctor Strange and Doctor Doom: Triumph and Torment
⑦: Iron Man (Vol. 1) #149
⑧: Iron Man (Vol. 1) #150
⑨: Iron Man (Vol. 1) #249
⑩: Iron Man (Vol. 1) #250
①①: Iron Man: Legacy of Doom
①②: Iron Age
①③: Iron Man (Vol. 1) #284
①④: Iron Man (Vol. 3) #55
①⑤: Iron Man & Armor Wars #2
①⑥: Iron Man & Armor Wars #4
①⑦: Iron Man: Fatal Frontier #8
①⑧: Iron Man: Fatal Frontier #9
①⑨: Invincible Iron Man (Vol. 2) #1