The great invasion of Earth by the dark god Dormammu had co to an end. Though Gene had literally kicked him back into his own lair, Kamar-Taj was still left with a mountain of troubles. Two of the three Sanctums had been completely destroyed and needed to be rebuilt. A large number of sorcerers had perished in the battle against the Dark Zealots.
Even the forr Sorcerer Supre, the Ancient One, had died in the conflict—a loss that could not be understated.
Not long after, as expected, Master Mordo chose to leave Kamar-Taj. This man, who had once revered his teacher like a divine being, had completely broken down upon learning that the Ancient One had secretly drawn power from the Dark Dinsion. His faith shattered, he began to question everything he once believed in. His departure from the Sanctum was no longer surprising.
The current Sorcerer Supre, Stephen Strange, now faced a daunting challenge. In truth, his current strength didn’t match his title. But fortunately, his talent was astonishing and his potential imnse. Given ti, he would undoubtedly beco an extraordinary sorcerer.
(Well, that’s the benefit of protagonist plot armor.)
anwhile, S.W.O.R.D. welcod two new recruits: the private detective Jessica Jones and journalist Eddie Brock. Their ability assessnts quickly landed on Gene’s desk.
Our private eye, Miss Jones, wasn’t just ard with a sharp mind—she also possessed a terrifying brute strength. According to the results from the strength testing machine, Jessica’s power level had shockingly reached fifteen tons.
Even more surprising was Venom, the sinister alien symbiote. After a series of tests, it was discovered that Venom could swiftly assemble incredibly delicate machines. This opened up new possibilities—Venom could conceal nurous weapon components within his own body and, when needed, assemble them in an instant to unleash devastating power.
As an evil alien lifeform, the biggest concern beca: how to control Venom. Surprisingly, the symbiote seed unusually enthusiastic about "joining S.W.O.R.D. and protecting global peace."
In fact, the term "overly eager" wasn’t far off.
Especially when the Scarlet Witch gave him orders—his behavior beca borderline fanatical.
Every ti Wanda asked him to do sothing, Venom would imdiately echo in Eddie’s mind:
"I think we should do as she says. It’ll benefit us, don’t you think?"
Eddie would respond with unfiltered disdain, glaring at the voice in his head.
Venom would never forget what happened in that factory—the day he got beaten senseless by a dainty-looking little witch. He’d been tossed around like a lion at a circus. And no matter how ferocious the lion, when facing its trainer... it obeyed.
Unfortunately for Venom, Wanda was his lion tar.
"I don’t get it," Wanda said, turning to Jessica. "Why do you have such a bias against Venom? I think he’s obedient and enthusiastic. Honestly... he kind of reminds of a husky—chaotic energy, but still very loyal."
"%@#&!!"
Venom, with his sharp hearing, clearly caught what Wanda had just said in the next room.
__
anwhile, Doom had embarked on his journey to find the mysterious temple.
He didn’t take any advanced tech, didn’t ride any transportation. He went alone, on foot, heading deep into the snowy mountains.
This was a mountain known only through ancient whispers. As soon as Doom laid eyes on it, one thought echoed in his mind:
Why does this mountain even exist here?
Once inside, everything his eyes saw was endless white. The snowflakes hit his face like blades. Despite the nothingness of the landscape, Doom instinctively felt Gene had been right—there was sothing here. He could sense faint, elusive energy pulsing in the air.
Climbing a snow-covered mountain is never easy. But Victor Von Doom never knew the word retreat. He used heat-rays to lt obstacles in his path, crafted a makeshift thermal furnace to survive the frigid nights. With a steely gaze, he climbed step by step through the blinding white, searching for the hidden temple.
Days passed. Or was it weeks? Eventually, Doom ran out of food. Weak and delirious, hallucinations began to haunt him—visions of Grace in the depths of Hell, and a demon creeping closer to steal his soul.
But this wasn’t a hallucination.
A yeti erged from the snowstorm with a roar. The weakened Doom fought back with all he had, but the creature slashed open his body with a massive claw. Blood poured from the wounds, carrying away what little warmth remained.
With the last ounce of strength in his failing body, Doom shoved a thermal grenade into the yeti’s gaping maw—
BOOM!
Its head exploded in a mist of crimson and bone.
Doom feasted on the creature’s flesh just enough to regain a sliver of strength, and then trudged forward once more. The howling winds never ceased—cold as blades, slicing across his torn skin. The blood from his wounds painted the snow red, his body losing warmth by the minute.
Eventually, his knees buckled. He collapsed into the snow.
A bitter smile touched his lips.
"Victor Von Doom is really about to die here. This is where my story ends."
He closed his eyes in resignation.
But then, he heard it—faint voices, the sound of feet crunching across the snow. He was being lifted, carried... into a temple.
He no longer rembered the path. But Gene’s words resurfaced in his fading consciousness.
__
"Hey, look! He’s alive!" one monk cried out excitedly.
"Everyone, co quick—he’s awake!"
Other monks rushed over, smiling as if he were one of their own.
And then it hit Doom—he rembered the prophecy inscribed on that ancient parchnt:
"Those who have lost everything shall find the hidden temple, learn sacred knowledge, and be honored by the monks as their Supre One."
Victor Von Doom...
had found his destiny.
--------------
T/N:
Access Advance Chapters on my
P@treon: /MPHFics
Reviews
All reviews (0)