Doom awoke in a cell. Three of the walls were made up of flickering amber energy, which cast the only light in the alien detention block. The fields ran a border around an 8 by 8 metal platform, with the only furniture being a simple cot. 9 other cells ran along the walls of the chamber, and only one heavy built bulkhead door controlled access to the dungeon.
The Skrulls had taken his armour, and he wore a simple green jumpsuit. Searching the dungeon, Doom saw that all the other were empty, with one exception; Carol Danvers was located in the neighbouring cell, dressed in the same jumpsuit.
"Guess that means you're not a Skrull," she said, glumly. She was seated on her cot.
He glared at her for a moment before turning away. At this moment he had no desire or patience to deal with his fellow captive. He sat against the one metal wall in his cell to take stock of his situation.
He was alive; that was worth something.
His life had been spared for now by the alien's arrogance, however he knew his luck had probably run out in that regard. He sat for some time, deliberating. That he let that temptress seduce him; to beguile him!
But he had been a prisoner before.
After several hours, a guard came in to the dungeon and delivered trays of food. At least we won't starve, he thought to himself bitterly as he poked the food. A piece of bread, some unidentifiable gruel, and water. He noted they even included salt and pepper packets, and he set the salt aside and tasted the strange stew.
"How do you know it's not poisoned?" Carol asked, having left her tray on the other side of her cell.
He took a bite of the dry bread, not even looking up at her. "If the Skrulls wanted us dead, there is no need for poison. They want us left strong enough to put on a show in their games," he said, adding some pepper to the strange stew, which had all the appearance and taste of salted raw eggs.
"That's a relief' Carol said dryly as she picked up the tray.
"I can safely assume that the Skrulls have nullified your powers?" he said, dipping the bread in the gruel. The pepper only slightly improved the palatability of it.
"Yup," she replied, tapping a set of manacles together. "So, what's the plan?"
His patience was well and truly at its end, and he could not resist making a biting reply, "I'm so glad to hear you're finally open to ideas-" he said, putting his food aside. He stood up and walked to the field bordering their cells, "Perhaps if you had not let the actual queen of the aliens join the Avengers a year ago and lead an assault on my nation, we would find ourselves in a different situation?"
"You launched a biological weapons attack on United States soil. What else did you expect?" she answered, standing up from her own cot.
"That weapon was launched because of the Ultron AI. Remind me, which Avenger created that ongoing catastrophe? More to the point, how many people did my weapon kill?"
Carol looked confused for a moment, "What?"
"Did my weapon kill anybody? Did you even notice?"
He watched as she struggled with words for a moment, evidently making note of that fact from her memory. When she didn't reply, he carried on.
"Exactly. I designed a weapon that spares life and destroys only property and infrastructure. And when its work is done, a simple aerosol sets those enthralled by it free with no harm. Tell me, how many thousands have died to your government's 'precision' weapons? How many still suffer from the Atom bombs? What of the generations of innocents born misshapen wherever your military acts? Poisoned by defoliants or vaporized depleted uranium?"
Carol balled her fists, and answered through gritted teeth, "We've been fighting against monsters; the dictators of the world who think that they can bully people into submission. People like you-" She pointed judgmentally at him. -"who think that you can do whatever you want if it brings you more power. People who think that they're some kind of godsend for humanity."
"I am not a dictator. I am a monarch." he answered.
"Looks about the same from where I'm standing," she scorned, crossing her arms defiantly.
"That is because your American 'education' is hopelessly deficient."
"Didn't you drop out of an American university without graduating, 'Doctor'?" she replied, ensuring his title was dripping in sarcasm.
He let out a bitter snicker. "I certainly wasn't attending for your humanities education. A more historically and philosophically ignorant population than the American people has never walked this Earth."
"Maybe you should enlighten me."
"It would be as difficult for me to explain the difference to you as it would be for you to teach a toddler about a fighter jet. Furthermore, it is not necessary for a child to understand, merely to obey."
Carol held her arms wide. "We got nothing but time."
"Very well." She was ironically correct after all. "The Sovereign sits at the top of the hierarchy of society; their purpose is to act as the intermediary between the lesser people and higher divine laws, guiding them to correct action despite their base instincts. This can be contrasted with the dictator, who is little different from their fellows, except for being more vicious and cunning. The dictator, in the modern definition of the term because the ancients would more appropriately would have called them a tyrant, has power without wisdom. Despite all appearances to the lower classes, a Sovereign is fettered by their obligation to higher laws, whereas a dictator is limited only by reach of his power and depths of his appetites."
"Really? 'The divine right of kings' crap? How are you even supposed to find this king among the petty tyrants of the world," she said, shaking her head.
"A rather academic question when Doom stands before you," he ordained.
"How convenient for you," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Quite the opposite, but it has ever been the nature of the lesser to misunderstand the greater."
"And you somehow believe that you're smarter than everyone else in society."
"Why do you labour under the ridiculous notion that one-hundred men are wiser than one? History demonstrates that there are always men of exceptional quality, and we remember their names as the masses fade in the mists of time."
"Democracy builds consensus, and by having everyone contribute it creates solutions that work for everyone. Western democracy has lasted so long because it creates resilience through the peaceful competition of ideas," she rebutted.
"The little experiments you call democracy have only existed for a moment of human history," Doom answered, snapping his fingers. "Monarchy has created stable societies for as long as we have existed. Even in the Hellenistic period, the very cradle of your system, the great philosophers knew that enlightened despotism was superior. Of course, the common people voted to put Socrates to death."
She shook her head again, "The consent of the people is necessary. Elections ensure that a government reflects that."
"You Americans are so committed to the idea that everyone should have voice in government that you will deny the fundamental truth of the human condition. A truth that is so abhorrent to you that you will invent falsehoods of fantastical complexity to avoid beholding it."
"And what is that?" she sneered.
"Men are not created equal. In fact most of them are unsuitable to manage any affairs outside their own, and many are even less suitable than that. All social animals have hierarchies, and man is an exemplar of this rather than an exception," he decreed.
"It's wrong to treat anyone unfairly just because-"
"Treating them the same and treating them fairly are different concepts. You would not treat a child the same as an adult; why should it be any different with man? A man would not treat his dog the same as a person, yet does he not love the dog and act towards it as family? Will he not go to extraordinary lengths for the wellness of the animal, with full knowledge of its nature as a being less than his own, but still no less loved? But you serve a system that inflicts such pain on its people in the name of equality by the simple refusal of recognizing the nature of man."
Carol bit her lip, a look of consternation written across her face. After a short while, she turned away.
This suited Doom. He laid down on his cot and rested.
There was no change in the lighting of the dungeon as time passed, but based on the number of meals, they were imprisoned for several days. The time passed in silence.
At last, Carol spoke up, "Why are you like this?"
"Because I have been granted the boon of enough intelligence to see the world for what it is, and cursed with enough intelligence that I may be able to do something about it," he said as he pushed away his tray.
She gave a quick shake of the head, "You really see world domination as moral obligation?"
"If I have the power to correct the faults of this world, then I bear the blame if it is not corrected. You know something of this feeling," he said as he fixed his gaze upon her.
"I don't think we have much in common," she said, looking away.
He pulled the stash of salt packets from his sleeve as he spoke, "You have been granted power, and you use it in the manner you see fit to bring good to the world. I do the same. Your weakness is that you have been coerced into serving something that does not bring good to the world, despite your relatively superior nature."
Carol blinked, waiting a beat before she replied, "Was…was that a compliment?"
"Yes; now be silent when I pay you one. The gods mixed a certain amount of silver in your spirit when you were crafted, and you have the nature of an Auxiliary of the Guardians of the Republic. There will come a time when you will have to choose; you should consider the manner of your previous service until I return." He delicately poured a thin line of salt, completing a small circle.
"-Return? What are you taking about?"
He sat in the thin circle. "I go to seek aid. I shall return, but in my absence, you should determine if what you have done with your life has ever brought any lasting good to this benighted world."
With that said, he centered his focus and felt himself drift away from the dungeon.