Doom, looked down upon the Latverian countryside. As ever, it was beautiful and pristine; his advanced technology and wise rulership kept it unsullied. The gently sloping hills stretched into the distance and lush forests surrounded Doomstadt, the capital city. He spotted small peasant villages dotting the landscape, and breathed a sigh of relief to see that his homeland was safe.
The flight had been precarious. The navigation systems were totally gone, and the integrated compass was just about the only fully functional system on board. He had only just got the short range radio working, and was doubtful that the craft could even land safely. He had been flying for eight hours by now, crossing the Atlantic from New York by eye and compass.
The SHIELD fighter could have made the trip faster, but he often had to utilize slower flights, lower altitude, and circuitous routes to avoid the Skrulls who dominated the sky, presumably all the way to high-orbit. The GPS was non-functional and he wouldn't dare to use it even if it did work. It was a simple enough matter to utilize old-fashioned navigation to reach Latveria, and from there, he knew the way home like the back of his hand.
As expected, he saw a set of thruster trails in the distance. That would be his robotic guardians moving to intercept him after entering Latverian airspace. He cut the speed on his aircraft.
A half minute later, the robots took positions just behind him; two behind each wing.
A deep authoritative voice crackled over the radio: "YOU HAVE ENTERED LATVERIAN AIR SPACE AND THE REALM OF VICTOR VON DOOM; IDENTIFY YOUSELF OR FACE DESTRUCTION"
"I am he," Doom responded into the handset.
"PARTIAL VOICE PRINT RECOGNIZED; PROVIDE ADDITIONAL VERIFICATION."
Doom expected as much, but still, damn this primitive device! "Stand by for further code authentication-" he said. He reached down and retrived the notepad from a side pocket. He had already worked out the answer to the rotating hexa-mathematical code, based on fractal geometry and moon position, but it took some time to read it number-by-number into the radio. And his patience had worn very thin.
At last, after several minutes of work, he received the appropriate response.
"VERIFICATION ACCEPTED; WHAT DO YOU REQUIRE, LORD DOOM?"
"My craft is damaged. I will cut its power and you will take it to my landing pad at Castle Doom," he ordered.
The robots sent an acknowledgement signal, and each of them spread out, two under the fuselage and one under each wing. He cut the power, and his robotic servants took the weight of the craft and ferried it along. Another wing of four robots arrived shortly after and took up escorting positions around the craft.
At last, Doom was able to rest for few moments
When the plane began to descend, he leaned against the cockpit glass to get a good look at his home. His fortress had suffered dearly under the SHIELD assault, but it appeared his minions had been productive in his absence, as expected. He saw that the wall had been restored, and most of the damage to the building had been repaired as well.
It didn't surprise him that SHIELD hadn't secured the ruins that they left, but such an action could have produced an international incident. They could rationalize an attack on one man, and often flouted international law to do it, but even SHIELD couldn't avoid the fallout from a hostile occupation of sovereign soil.
During the course of his flight, he had wrapped his face in bandages from a first-aid kit, which combined with his green prisoners uniform, gave a rather uninspiring look. Nevertheless, it was not the clothes that made the man, as many of his enemies had discovered. Much to their dismay.
As he shut down the fighter, he saw that a reception had been prepared. Four of his large guard droids stood at the ready, and behind the two and half meter-tall behemoths, a group of eight Latverian soldiers were prepared in two ranks. In front of all this, a Latverian army officer stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Doom couldn't quite make out the rank symbols from this distance.
The robots placed the aircraft on the landing pad delicately, and Doom slid open the canopy. As he did so, the officer (who Doom could now identify as Major Ralinov) called the 'present-arms', and the droids and solders executed their drill.
As he debarked the aircraft, the Major presented himself, and deeply bowed.
"You have been monitoring the situation?" demanded Doom.
"As best we could, Lord."
Doom walked past the Major. "Prepare a full briefing. Be ready in half an hour in the command centre." He barely heard his minions reply as he entered his home. Any answer that significantly varied from 'Yes, my Lord' was surely punishable by death, and he had little time to waste.
Ascending a spiral stair case to his private sanctum, Doom examined the facts in his mind. It was obvious that the earth was under attack from the Skrulls. At some point, he had unknowingly encountered Skrull infiltrators, meaning they had at least several months to integrate themselves amongst humanity. The aliens had evidently compromised a significant portion of the SHIELD networks. And they had an unknown number of Super-Skrulls of varied powers, some of whom were perfect mimics of earth heroes, and others who combined abilities and powers of the super humans.
Doom smiled as he reached the door to his private study. Unlike the other heroes, whose powers were so easily replicated, they could never truly imitate him, for his only power was his incomparable intellect and indefatigable will.
Pushing the heavy, wooden portal open, he entered his sanctum.
It was, unfortunately, a disaster. Books covered the floor, knocked from their shelves when that clodding neanderthal, Aries, crashed a ship into his castle. Statues of irreplaceable value lay shattered on the ground, and beautiful paintings were scorched and ruined when Stark used his particle weapons in here. It was rather typical of those kinds, and Doom shook his head at the senseless destruction. He was unsurprised to find the room otherwise untouched. Even in his absence, his minions would never dare to enter his chambers. The fine rugs that sat on the cool floor-stones were covered in dust and debris. He bent down to pick up a book, the Liber Daemonicum: Vol. 18, and returned it to its place on one of the shelves that filled the walls.
Continuing to the lab, he beheld a similar sight; papers and notes were flung about the room, and valuable scientific machinery was smashed. Compared to the classical medieval style of his study, the lab was an odd juxtaposition; incredibly advanced technology and metals, surrounded by a stone chamber with priceless tapestries decorating the wall, sitting beside various computer monitors, many of which were cracked. Again, Doom's choler began to rise as he thought of the affront that was the American attack on his person.
He walked to a corner of the room and pressed down on one of the flag-stones that made up the floor. The otherwise unremarkable piece of flooring glowed slightly, and he felt warmth in his hand as a hidden computer read his genetic structure and verified his identity.
He spoke the code 'Valery' softly to the lock, and it chimed.
Satisfied, the computer accepted his authority, and a large, glass cylinder emerged from the floor, slowly growing in height as it rose. Cool wisps of air puffed out from the base of the container, and the door slid open, revealing its contents: a suit of gleaming robust silver armour stared back at Doom, and a set of stately emerald green robes were carefully hung next to it. For the first time in months, he let a smirk grace his lips.
Doctor Doom walked purposefully through the corridors of Castle Doom. Now standing a foot taller, and several hundred kilograms heavier, he felt at home again. His cold, steel shell had welcomed him back with the familiarity of an old friend as its weight and power graced his limbs.
He remembered once, through sorcerous means, he had switched bodies with Reed Richards. That wretch had complained of how heavy and difficult it was just to breathe, but a spineless idiot like Richards could not understand that it was simply the burden of purpose he could finally feel.
The salvation of the world and humanity weighed on Doom's shoulders at all times.
Servants cast furtive glances his way, as the 'k-thunk' 'k-thunk' of his iron footfalls returned again to the castle. They would bow and offer their humble welcome. He basked in their fearful adoration. Machiavelli had said that it was best to be loved and feared at the same time, and the people of Latveria obliged. Doom's wrath was dangerous and often lethal, but it was never unthinking or unjustified. Crime was unknown and his people lived long healthy lives and feared only their master's justice.
He entered the massive command centre of the castle, a room entirely lacking the medieval decor of the rest of the building. The metal chamber was filled with consoles, computers and dozens of large screens that adorned the walls. Thirty technicians, scientists and soldiers manned the various machinery, and Major Ralinov waited near the main view screen. The man bowed dutifully as Doom addressed him.
"I trust you have prepared the relevant information, Major?" he asked.
Knowing when to skip the pleasantries, the Major began his briefing. "Yes Lord. As far as the world knows, the Skrull invasion began yesterday. They transmitted this message-" and he touched a few keys; the view screen switched and depicted the world leaders offering their surrender and welcome to the arriving Skrulls.
Doom's anger rose as he saw that they falsified his appearance in the message.
Ralinov continued, "Several hours later, there was a massed battle in New York. The American heroes gathered and committed a frontal attack on the invading Skrulls-" and again the viewer changed its image, this time showing a climactic battle in downtown New York. "-There were also battles in other capital cities in the world, but the largest occurred in New York, and it was there that the Avengers and SHIELD had been defeated."
Doom watched the battle. The Skrulls were personally led by their queen, who had taken the form of Jessica Drew, the Spider-Woman. She had retained the costume of Jessica Drew, but dispensed with hiding her features; the multi-ridged chin, pointed ears, and reptile-esque green skin of the Skrull race. The sight of her triggered a memory, back when Stark led the attack on Castle Doom.
"So, it was you," he whispered to himself.
Ultimately, his defence fell apart when Spider-Woman overcame his summoned daemons, and released the rest of the Avengers. After being freed, Ms. Marvel was able to aid Stark just enough for him to survive the Neural Energy Swarm weapon that Doom deployed.
None of the captured heroes should have been able to escape the sorcerous bonds that held them. But this Queen of the Skrulls nearly compromised her disguise in order to do so and help them escape.
Unaware of his master's private musings, Major Ralinov carried on. "The human defenders of New York were overcome and routed. Many died or were captured, with an undetermined number escaping, though it was certainly a minority," the screen showed Captain America cast down, with the heel of the Skrull Queen on his throat, her cruel features twisted into a smile as she watched over her victorious troops.
Curiously, there was no sign of Tony Stark. Surely the destruction of Iron Man would have been publically broadcast?
Major Ralinov continued, "The Skrull attack has made significant progress in their initial 24 hours. Their primary focus has been on the major powers-" he said, pointing to a new screen that showed the globe. Purple icons indicated battle zones, and the Skrull attacks were scattered across the United States, Russia and China. There were other icons sprinkled across the world, with lesser numbers in Europe, Southern Africa, the Middle East, and South America. "-capital cities, significant military installations, and other targets have been included."
"Other targets?" Doom asked impatiently. He cared little for such vagueness.
"Some of these are sites are known bases for super-human teams, others are unknown in value to us," the Major answered quickly. "By all appearances, their significant operations have been successful. The United States has been unable to coordinate a defence after the cyber-attack on the SHIELD computer systems, and has essentially capitulated, though there are small areas of resistance. Notably, San Francisco seems to have repulsed the initial attack."
"We shall see for how long that lasts. And the other nations?"
"The Euro-zone is in roughly the same shape as the United States, due to their close interoperability with the SHIELD systems. Both Russia and China have maintained some semblance of a coordinated defence, but are quickly losing ground. The Skrulls appeared to have deployed higher proportions of conventional troops to these regions. The initial attacks were concentrated on securing atomic weapon launch sites, with isolated facilities eliminated by orbital strikes. Since then, conventional forces have been battling, but despite still having C3 systems in place, the defence is still far less effective than we would have expected."
"Explain," Doom said, as the world map focused on the Eastern portion of the globe. Human forces well highlighted in red and yellow, and those colours were precipitously retreating from growing blotches of purple.
"Russian and Chinese defence forces have had large numbers of contradictory or foolhardy orders issued to their troops. There are many reports of friendly fire, or Skrull forces being perfectly positioned to ambush troops marching to an objective, or different units receiving orders to destroy or protect an objective. By all accounts, these militaries are battling their own Chains of Command as much as the aliens."
"And the status of Latverian forces?"
"Colonel Steval has put the regular forces on high alert, and the reserves are currently mobilizing. The mega-particle cannons surrounding Doomstadt are powered up, and the castle shielding is ready to be engaged," the Major replied, as he changed the map to the local-national level, and Doom's forces were displayed in a deep viridian.
"Withdraw the regular forces to Doomstadt. Post autonomous recon units at the border crossings with orders to observe. I expect reports every four hours. Alert me when the Skrulls move on Latveria."
With his orders dictated, Doom returned to his chambers. There was much to do, and an even greater amount to learn. But there was one thing that must be done first.