"You again?"
The colossal, blood-red eyes narrowed in fury, locking onto Gene as he stood beside Doom.
"That’s right, Dormammu. We et again." Gene’s voice was calm, unwavering, as he stared up at the floating infernal gaze. "Didn’t expect to see so soon? What’s the matter? Not ready to get kicked back to your flaming cave yet?"
This wasn’t Gene’s first encounter with Dormammu—well, not in the literal sense.
"RAHHHH!" Dormammu howled. A violent burst of chaotic energy erupted from his crimson eyes, swirling everything in its path and surging toward Gene and Doom like a tidal wave of destruction.
Instinctively, Doom raised his arms to defend, but Gene was already in front of him. With a simple motion of his hand, the wave of chaos split before it could reach them—like a modern-day Moses parting a storm of fire and malice. Dormammu’s energy bent away from Gene, terrified, redirected by sheer force of will.
Dormammu roared in frustration. Yet, he was powerless here—this was Doom’s mindscape. No matter how mighty the Lord of the Dark Dinsion was, he could never manifest his full might within soone else’s psyche.
Gene glanced at Doom, who stood timidly by his side. Despite all the outside bravado—the brilliance, the arrogance, the ambition—inside, he was still just a frightened, helpless child.
No wonder this place was so cold... so empty... so dark.
"This isn’t the Victor I know," Gene said quietly. "The Victor I know is a man of ideals. A man of belief. A man who would never kneel—certainly not to a creature like Dormammu."
Doom’s voice trembled. "But Dormammu’s right. I’m nothing but a failure. No matter how hard I try, I still can’t save my mother from the clutches of the hell dinsion..."
"Yes, Doom!" Dormammu’s voice bood from above like thunder. "You are nothing without . But together—we can conquer everything!"
Gene ignored the demon’s threats. His eyes remained fixed on Doom. "Victor, I brought you into S.W.O.R.D. for a reason. Your intellect, your arcane prowess—they surpass most mortals. I saw your potential, and I passed on my knowledge of the mystic arts. But this... giving up... that’s not you."
"You... you haven’t given up on ?" Doom’s voice was barely a whisper.
"I never did," Gene said softly. "You’re my student. I opened the door to sorcery for you. That makes you my responsibility." He added with a faint smile, "Besides, you know —I hate breaking my promises. I told you I’d help save your mother from phisto. And I will."
Gene gripped Doom’s shoulders, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "But now it’s your turn, Victor. Be a man. Tell —who are you?"
"Vic...tor... Von Doom," he muttered.
"LOUDER!"
"I am Victor Von Doom." A fire ignited behind Doom’s eyes.
"I AM VICTOR VON DOOM! DOOM KNEELS TO NO ONE!" he roared.
Suddenly, the childlike form vanished. The man returned—ferocious and proud, a beast hungry for knowledge, for control.
"I AM VICTOR VON DOOM! I FEAR NOTHING! NOW GET OUT OF MY MIND!" he thundered toward Dormammu’s looming presence.
And just like that, the red infernal glow dimd. The voice faded. Dormammu’s rage echoed into nothingness.
Doom collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily.
The echo constructs of Gene—the projection spell Echo March, and the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak—vanished. Doom’s armor began scanning his vitals, detecting that his black magic levels had returned to normal.
"Sir," Skynet chid in, "I believe our Victor Doom has returned."
Gene gave a small nod and stepped forward, offering Doom a hand.
"Mr. Mason... I..." Doom’s voice trembled with sha, on the verge of apology.
Gene understood what he was trying to say.
"No need to talk about it now," he said. "We’ve got bigger problems."
He looked up. Above them, the dinsional vortex churned more violently than ever, and within its core, blood-red eyes flickered like storm clouds preparing to tear the world apart.
"It’s too late," Doom muttered, a trace of guilt in his voice. "The dinsional gateway—it’s already open. Dormammu doesn’t even need my help anymore. He can co through on his own."
There was a long pause. Then Doom added, softly, "If you need to bla soone... bla ."
That was Doom’s version of an apology.
Gene just shook his head. "Doesn’t matter. You’ve done your part. Now it’s my turn."
His propulsion system roared to life, blazing with azure energy. With the intensity of a descending god, Gene launched upward, streaking toward the swirling vortex in the sky.
Darkness pressed in on him like walls closing from all sides, but golden light burst from his body, holding the corruption at bay.
He pierced through layer after layer of interdinsional matter until finally, he landed on a sphere—almost like a rogue asteroid, glowing with sinister green and violet energy beneath his feet.
His V-shaped visor flickered. A split-second later, three enormous black spikes slamd into the very spot he’d been standing on.
"Dormammu," Gene said loudly, his voice echoing across the void, "for soone who hasn’t had guests in a few millennia, you’re really rolling out the welco mat."
Before him, a face began to take shape—first the eyes, then the burning nostrils, then a twisted, jagged mouth.
A monstrous visage lood, dripping with fire and rage.
They had finally co face-to-face.
The Dark God Dormammu.
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