TIMESLIP COMPLETED
YEAR 690 AD, CALENDAR DATE NOT APPLICABLE
Doom rose from a crouch as the time travel slip around him dissipated in a wave of scintillating light. As the rip in space-time flittered away, he found himself in a stony room full of occult paraphernalia: skulls, potions, cauldrons and the like. The tradecraft items of a sorcerer; or sorceress in this case. He knew this place well, for he had visited the castle of Morgan Le Fay often. Even with the Skrull invasion of Earth, there was something he had to resolve. Left unattended, this task could be the death of him.
Morgan Le Fey did not turn from her bubbling cauldron. Sickly green light cast dancing shadows on the walls from her foul workings.
"Victor. I was beginning to consider finding you," she said, ice hanging from every word. The way she put emphasis on the word 'finding' made no illusions as to what the results of that would be.
"Morgan," Doom said simply.
A dark aura of energy played around her pale form as she slowly turned. Her long raven hair moved as if caught in an ethereal wind, and her silken robes billowed around her as sizzling red lightning danced around her hands.
Her voice boomed out, unnaturally filling the dark room, causing chains and fetishes to bounce and jingle, "Your hubris must be great to return here! If you think-"
"I have come to settle my debt and apologize," he interrupted.
"I thought Doom never apologized," answered the sorceress, her features softening ever so slightly. The ethereal winds died down to breezes.
"To you, I do," he said. Indeed, it was never prudent to have one of the most powerful magicians in the world's history angry at you. Especially if she could travel time and strangle you in your crib.
"Why did you not return? You swore an oath," she asked as the dark aura waned around her.
"Even with your teachings, I was unable to repel the invaders. I was taken prisoner, and my kingdom was ruined. Here is your payment." He lifted a brilliantly shining tessellating cube from his cloak.
The dark energies surrounding Morgan subsided, her evident interest in the cube replacing her rage. "What trinket have you brought me, Victor?"
"You asked for an item from the future. This is the Time Cube; one of the most advanced pieces of technology in existence. Compared to it, all other things are mere trinkets," he replied, holding out the proffered cube.
"Ah! That little toy you rely upon to bring you here-" she turned her face away in feigned indignation as she spoke, "-but I can already travel through time, when I wish to do so."
"Indeed, which is why this is safe to give you. As you said, you can already travel the time currents, but this is far easier and more precise than your mystical arts. There is no threat to the timeline. Unless you misplace it."
She took the cube, holding it up and regarding it, "Oh, very well. If it's really the best you can do…"
"Careful, Morgan. Do not mock Doom," he said.
"You don't need to take such a stern tone, I am satisfied, and consider your debt paid. But you were always an…adept student. How were you overcome?" she asked, placing the cube on a shelf among strange items of unidentifiable purpose.
"That is what I was hoping you could tell me. The magic of the Nameless Ones. It should be unbreakable."
"Essentially; an immense physical force could overcome the hold, but far more likely would be magical defence, though even a highly skilled sorcerer would struggle," she said, nibbling on a thumb nail as she thought. "Of course, a practitioner of theurgy would find it not so troublesome."
Doom was taken aback for moment, "Theurgy? Holy magic?"
"If you wish to consider these things in such dichotomies, then yes," she said dismissively.
This was a strange development. When he summoned the Nameless Ones to defend his kingdom, it was Spider-Woman who overcame their magic; she was no student of the mystical arts. His mind turned over the implications when Morgan's voice broke his concentration.
"But-" Morgan's demeanor shifted from that of predator, to one of a seductress "Is that all you came for? To merely repay a debt and seek more answers? It's not my company that brought you?" Morgan purred, feigning a hurt tone.
"That as well".
The war for the Earth was over in little over a week. Doom returned from the past only few moments after he left. With his time platform destroyed, and the Time Cube gifted away, there would be little chance to visit the past again. It was just as well; those tools could be dangerous in the wrong hands, and he hardly intended on changing the past.
As Doom watched the campaign unfold, he felt the unsettling knowledge that there was little he could do to change its course. Had he not been imprisoned during the prelude to this, he could have prepared, perhaps allied with SHIELD or even with Richards or T'Challa. Such as he was, his small military would have no impact on a global struggle.
There was also the issue of how trustworthy his troops were. The Skrulls seemed to have infiltrated almost every military in the world. It was beyond question that they had placed spies among the Latverian military in his absence.
There were also several things that seemed odd about this invasion.
Firstly, the aliens had evident orbital supremacy, yet they limited their use of orbital strikes. For whatever reason, they seemed intent on taking the planet relatively intact, and without depopulating it. In many cases, they even chose to engage in large face-to-face super-human battles, pitting their new Super-Skrull amalgams against the human defenders. San Francisco was an exception; during the follow-on attack, they decided to level large portions of the city, deviating from their efforts during the initial attack. Besides being the home of the X-Men, Doom could determine little other cause for the lack of restraint for that city.
Secondly, the aliens had made little evident move to Latveria. The invasion plan seemed to treat it like many of the other minor powers. It was possible they believed they could eliminate him, and the country would pose no threat without it's leader. Even with his return, they seemed to think the little country a non-threat. Alternatively, they believed it was not worth the concentration of forces to eliminate the technologically advanced rogue nation.
Indeed, Doom had few encounters with the Skrulls. Perhaps, in their arrogance, they had discounted him as a threat after the major powers were defeated?
If that was the case, he intended to disavow them of that notion.
However…perhaps it was wise to allow them to think that way for some time.
As Doom stood in his sanctum, he watched the little hologram of Earth. Wisps of various coloured lights disappeared, slowly replaced with the alien purple, the small dancing motes reducing the horrors of war to pleasant little snippets of data. There was always opportunity during war and regime change.
So Doom watched. And he waited.
Over the days, the royal purple washed over the Northern hemisphere, and blotches grew across the South. Frustratingly, as that wave grew, less and less information flowed to him. He went from having high-level SIGINT to having to rely on the reports that his intelligence operators could compile from various secondary sources. Assuming he could trust that they were his operators.
Many of the new sources showed similar things: human leaders of the major powers signing documents of surrender onboard Skrull battle cruisers, with beaming alien generals in the background. Others provided instructions from the Skrulls on how the occupied humans were expected to act, including declarations of curfews and martial law.
Finally he received a comm from the command center. It was Major Ralinov.
"My Lord, the Skrulls have commenced a broadcast on all channels. Would you like it patched through?"
"No; prepare for my arrival."
The main-screen in the command center was set to the Skull broadcast. It was filled with the images of a large coliseum, and Skrulls, of all ages, occupied the stands. In the pit, Cyclops of the X-Men and the massive metal X-Skrull that Doom had escaped were engaged in mortal combat. Cyclops had acquired several gashes, and blood seeped from the wounds. Although the wounds weren't terminal, they would certainly slow him down. The Super-Skrull he was fighting appeared unharmed except for some carbon scoring.
"This would appear to be the Skrull's next stage of the invasion, Lord. Today the aliens began broadcasting…this," the Major said.
Doom had to admire the strategy. By enslaving and toying with the so-called heroes, the Skrulls demonstrated the totality of their victory, and would slowly sap the humans of their resolve and morale with each fallen idol. He watched the battle with interest. It seemed that the Skulls were rich in prisoners; the choice to lead with the paragon of the X-Men against a Super-Skrull that imitated that same team was cruelly impressive.
The mutant was slowly being pushed to the wall of the coliseum. His optic blasts had little effect on the Super-Skrull's armoured hide. Cyclops skillfully dodged each swing of the massive claws, though his route inexorably moved to corner him.
Of course, if the Skrull did truly mimic Colossus, then his chromium skin would be virtually impervious. Doom didn't even consider the ludicrous notion of a human's bare hands harming the beast.
Cyclops was only a couple of meters from the wall and managed to put some space between himself and the alien. With a roar, he unleashed a crackling red beam at the Skrull. The crowd cheered as the massive alien countered with his own optic blast from a similar visor. As the beams collided, the X-Skrull slowly advanced.
The X-Man yelled out his defiance as the Skrull closed the distance; the creature pulled back both of his arms, his razor sharp claws poised to strike. Cyclops dodged the first swing, but he moved too slowly to avoid the follow up by the other. The massive claw cut deep into his abdomen and tore a sizable hunk of meat out of the human.
Cyclops let out a cry of pain as he fell to knees, his hands falling to his gut in twisted agony. As the mutant struggled with the terrible damage done to him, he didn't look up as both pairs of the Skrull's metal claws punched through his chest.
Doom watched impassively as the malicious Skrull hoisted his victim over his head, blood weeping on his face. Many of the technicians in the command center turned away as the alien ended that battle with a gory flourish, and Doom heard one of them vomiting.
While he despised the arrogance of the mutants 'post-human' society, Doom had no great hatred or love for them. He knew others would be gladdened by the death of the mutant rights advocate, and many more who would be disheartened by the loss of the leader of the X-Men.
He turned to Major Ralinov; the man had turned a pale shade.
"Major! Prepare a ship and honor guard. And send a message to the Skrulls."
"Yes, My Lord?" he answered, regaining his composure.
"Tell them we surrender."