Cloistered away inside in the ultra-maximum security sector of a SHIELD prison, he awaits, suspended by restraining energy fields. His arms held outstretched and his feet bound together by the arcing energy, he wears the simple olive garb of a prisoner and his deeply scarred face is left exposed. An Orwellian crucifixion unbefitting a man of his calibre. He had spent the last months contemplating and ruminating on his unjust imprisonment and the indignities consequently forced upon him.
Despite it all, there was one unalterable fact: HE. IS. DOOM.
Victor Von Doom: Lord and Sovereign of Latveria
Victor Von Doom: brilliant scientist, genius inventor, and master sorcerer.
Victor Von Doom: prisoner of SHIELD
He seethed at the memory of his capture at the hands of the charlatanic Tony Stark. That personification of bourgeoisie degeneracy had enlisted the help of the Sentry; a devil of unimaginable power, now responsible for the destruction of Doom's homeland. That creature had torn Doom's armour from him, revealing his scarred face to the unworthy villeins of the Avengers.
All this after SHIELD mounted a surprise attack on Latveria; an undeclared act of imperialism.
Despite his best efforts, the totality of the surprise and the unchecked power of the Sentry overcame him stratagems. Since then, he had been caged in his small cell, only released to feed and exercise periodically through the day. No trial; only a declaration of guilt and the indefinite imprisonment in the Raft prison facility.
Typical.
Doom had been planning his escape from the start. The facility was meticulously run and housed hundreds of so-called villains. SHIELD knew to keep Doom isolated and under constant guard, but he knew that it was only a matter of time. His will could not break and all systems give in to entropy eventually.
Today, it seemed his opportunity presented itself; for the past half hour he listened to the sounds of explosions and fighting reverberating through the prison. Lights were flickering, and it was obvious the facility had come under assault. He waited patiently, lightly testing his energized bonds to assess their hold, listening to the sounds of approaching battle.
Suddenly, he heard a great tearing at the door, and the thick alloy portal suffered a terrible rending, claws cutting through it as if it were little more than tin foil.
Nothing could defy the will of Doom forever.
A trio of humanoids stepped through the shattered wreckage of the door. Two were green skinned, and they all shared long pointed ears and oddly ridged chins. One was dressed in a red body suit, reminiscent of the hero, Daredevil. The second wore what appeared to be a uniform of one of the guards in this prison. The third was massive; eight feet tall with silvery metallic skin. His eyes were concealed with a cyclopean visor and he bore long metal claws on his wrists. He appeared to be an amalgamation of the mutants Colossus, Cyclops, and Wolverine.
"Skrulls," whispered Doom. He kept his expression neutral as he regarded his visitors. They moved about the cell, watching him in turn. Doom knew them to be a warlike alien race. Each Skrull possessed the ability to change it's shape and become an almost perfect doppelganger of whomever they chose.
Finally the large one spoke.
"So, this is one they call Doom. It is little wonder that the Queen defeated this pitiful specimen" said the silvery Skrull, his thick accent brutalizing the English language. His uniformed companion moved to the nearby console before answering.
"How true, but somehow these humans believe this creature to be a great threat to them. Now, we shall finish the Queen's work," the alien said, working the controls for Doom's restraints. "Perhaps he can provide us with some sport before his death," the alien chortled.
Through all this, Doom remained silent. He had precious little experience with the Skrulls. It was his hated foes, the Fantastic Four, who battled the aliens most often. Furthermore, he was unaware of any encounter with the Skrull Queen; a fact that vexed him greatly. His last battle had been the SHIELD invasion, and the queen could have impersonated anyone, presumably one of the half a dozen super humans who attacked him.
He had nothing to say to such arrogant creatures. They were revealing vital information of their own accord.
As Doom's restraints were released, he deftly landed on the floor and assessed his opposition. He had knowledge of only one so-called Super-Skrull, though the aliens had evidently replicated the practice. The fact that the trio of Skrulls had made it this deep into the prison meant that they were certainly formidable. He was armed with only his skill and wit, and considerable though they were, he did not highly rate his chances against three Super-Skrulls of unknown power in close quarters.
"Allow me," said the Daredevil-Skrull, stepping forward and confidently spinning his baton about himself.
Doom fell into a fighting stance, and they slowly circled each other. His opponent carried himself with a swagger, and Doom had the distinct impression this was a younger warrior out to make a name for himself. Had Doom been equipped with his armour, he could have reduced this fool to rapidly dissipating vapour. Such as he was, he settled on a balanced fighting stance.
The Skrull flourished and danced about, before throwing one end of his baton towards Doom's head. The halves of the baton were connected by a long wire cord, just like the real Daredevil's weapon, and Doom had to duck to the left as the weapon flew past his face. The shot had been a diversion though, and the Skrull had launched a kick towards his lowered head. Doom caught the blow on his forearm, jarring it, but it gave him the opening he needed to launch an uppercut into the alien's gut.
The quick strike winded the Skrull and he recoiled. Not giving his opponent a chance to recover, Doom stepped forward and spun, delivering his right elbow into the stunned alien's head, knocking him to the ground. As the Skrull landed, Doom grabbed his opponent's right arm, straightened it, and gave a mighty heave. The limb went flaccid as the bones snapped, and Doom listened to his victim's anguished cries.
No; not cries he realized.
As he released the limb, he heard the Skrull's harsh, guttural laughter fill the cell. The entire group was laughing, the mocking sound grating on his nerves. Releasing the arm and slowly standing, Doom understood his mistake; the Daredevil-Skrull flexed it's arm, making a few cracking sounds as the limp returned to its normal form, as if no damage had been done. Being shape shifters, breaking a bone was wholly irrelevant and the Skrulls routinely reshaped their bone structure at will.
He turned his head, and saw that the uniformed Skrull had levelled a pistol at his face. "And now you die, primate," said the Skrull. A cruel smile twisted his green features.
Muttering a short incantation and flinging his hand out, a bright white flash exploded from Doom's palm, blinding the aliens. He heard the sound of a discharging laser weapon as he ran to escape the cell. Doom could not be defeated, but he also knew when to retreat. The spell he used was little more than a cantrip, so simple even an apprentice mage could use it. That didn't diminish its effectiveness as the Skrulls rubbed their burned eyes.
He ran down the steel corridors of the SHIELD prison. Corpses of his erstwhile jailors littered the halls; many were hacked into mangled pieces, presumptively by the brute he just escaped.
A fitting fate for those who would dare imprison Doom, he thought to himself as he passed the remains.
He ducked into a nearby alcove as he saw a squad of SHIELD soldiers cross an intersection ahead of him. Sighting a small console, he accessed it. It seemed the entire facility was suffering a system wide failure and some sort of cyber-attack rendered the computers barely functional. Nevertheless, it took little of Doom's technical acumen to access a map.
Quickly memorizing a route to the hanger, he began making his path to escape. Stopping at the intersection where he saw the SHIELD troops pass, he poked his eye around the corner. Half a dozen troops were engaged in a furious firefight with a compliment of Skrull soldiers, and energy beams flew between the two groups.
As he watched, he saw the head of one of the human troops twisted around and the man fell to the ground in a heap. Materializing out of thin air, a Skrull appeared behind the SHIELD guards, and taking a lungful of air, breathed out a gout of flame into the surprised humans.
The soldiers fell, their screams quickly stifled by the flames that danced down their throats and immolated their lungs. Doom smelled the tang of burnt meat as the troops danced and writhed like unholy marionettes, the fire quickly reducing them to charred bones and melted slag.
Taking his opportunity, he silently advanced along his route, occasionally ducking into cover to avoid the sight of soldiers, both human and Skrull. His senses were attuned to the slightest hint of unseen foes. He didn't plan on sharing the fates of his captors.
Finally, he arrived at the hanger. The large room seemed to be abandoned, though the dead forms of SHIELD troopers demonstrated that Skrulls had made their breach here. The fact that the aircraft were still grounded spoke to the sudden speed of the alien assault. He took a small amount of satisfaction at the suffering of those who would incarcerate him.
Sighting a long-range fighter, Doom opened the cockpit, and leapt into the pilot's seat. Although the fighter was primitive by his standards, it would be sufficient for his needs: returning to his beloved Latveria and determining what madness was taking hold of the Earth. Many of the aircrafts systems were offline, and many others were malfunctioning. Whatever had caused this cyber-attack seemed to have affected virtually all SHIELD systems within this base. He struggled to get enough of the system working, manually engaging the take-off sequence. He would have time during the flight to work on more, but for now he was focused on escape.
He cleared the hanger, and as he flew to freedom, he caught the sight of an exquisite sunset.