Now.

Latveria.

Sebastian Shaw and Victor von Doom.

Two geniuses at an impromptu war against each other.

Shaw, the de facto leader of the Hellfire Club, has just admitted his hand in this whole affair. He was the one who pressed Empire State University to grant Victor the Doctorate. He left it to Victor and his iron-clad superiority complex to fill in the blanks.

And the rest of us were perfect supporting players. Tony and Steve were the crux of the issue, arguing over the very legality of Victor being in America. Shaw even figured me into the equation.

He knew. Wherever Victor went, I'd be right there behind him.

I've always been where Victor is, be it a step ahead or step behind.

"Shaw." My voice is surprisingly firm. But then, I make it a point to surprise myself on a daily basis. "You're making a big mistake."

"On the contrary," Shaw says. He loosens his cufflinks and speaks with a frank tone. Like he's taking himself too seriously. "It's all in the cards, Dr. Richards. The way I see it, you have two options. Fight me and waste your energy. Or…stop that Helicarrier from stealing Victor's country from him."

It happens faster than even I can register.

Victor flies from my side and knocks out Emma with one hit. He turns to Shaw in a nanosecond and starts wailing on him with uncharacteristic brute force. Shaw sees it coming and blocks Victor's barrage. But it's only a barrage of fists. It'll get worse. I look beyond the castle, at the Helicarrier and the troops dropping from it.

Decisions.

Decisions cut short by Victor calling to me.

"You must stop Fury!" he yells, strangling Shaw with one hand. "He is all that matters now."

I nod once and stretch to the street. Hopefully, I'll be able to intercept him and head off this catastrophe.

Tony—

Iron Man and Captain America stand perched at the bow of the Helicarrier. Neither of them feels the autumn wind scouring the deck.

"Steve."

"What?"

"You've been staring at the landscape for ten minutes. Don't you think we should…lead our team?"

"Why? Every one of them but Reed is down there. They can handle it."

"Okay," Iron Man says plainly. "What happens when they get to the castle and find Doom fighting the ghost of Thomas Jefferson?"

"What?"

Iron Man throws an arm around Cap's shoulder and directs him toward Castle Doom—a darkened monolith against auburn twilight. "There. The highest point. See?"

And Cap does. Doom trading blows with…well, the ghost of Thomas Jefferson. Doom seems to have the upper hand. That's…interesting.

"Huh."

"I told you," Iron Man says. The jets in his boots fire to life and he lifts off the deck. "Are you coming?"

Cap says nothing and grabs one of Iron Man's open hands.

Things were about to get interesting.

Victor—

Doom and Shaw fall to the ground, a twisting, embattled tandem. A bastard Castor and Pollux. When Doom maneuvers in mid-air and delivers a crude haymaker to Shaw, he gets the upper hand.

And when they land, he almost crushes Shaw's spine.

Doom kneels close and grabs Shaw by the lapels and hoists him within an inch of the cold and forbidding iron mask.

"You fool." It doesn't sound malicious, not even coming from Doom. It simply sounds…true. "How dense must one be to test the power of von Doom? Have you learned nothing from your erstwhile companions. The Genoshan dictator for instance."

"Actually," Shaw croaks through blood-soaked teeth and torn clothes. "I have."

And he hits Doom. Hard.

Hard enough that the Lord of Latveria is knocked off Shaw's body and flies a meter in the air, coming to rest against the remnants of a stone wall. Doom stands slowly. Eyes burning with hate catch Shaw's attention. He smiles anyway.

"You forget, my dear scarred friend, that I possess power far greater than that of an ordinary human. You cannot hurt me, you cannot kill me."

"Unlikely," Doom says and raises and arm. Shaw flies in the opposite direction and lands on an ox-cart. He stands up and regards an approaching Doom curiously.

"It's a negative-field generator, capable of temporarily overriding the laws of physics. Tell me, Sebastian. My one inviolate asset is my mind, Shaw. If I cannot destroy you with my physical accoutrements, then I shall use the next best thing." Doom taps hire forehead lightly. "The most dangerous weapon in the universe."

Doom crouches over Shaw and starts choking him. Slowly. Behind the iron-mask, Victor von Doom scowls and keeps squeezing. Relishing a feeling he has not felt since his childhood.

"When I am finished with you," Doom says. His voice is calmness itself. The true mark of a dedicated, if unbalanced, genius. "You will understand new avenues of pain."

Johnny—

"Oh. Goody."

"Way to think positive, Matchstick."

"Well. Ben. I see a street full of Doombots ahead of us."

"Safeguard, y'think? Mebbe Ironbox lieks his security. Me, I jsut like breakin' 'em."

Ben cracks his knuckles, and sort of like a soldier on a battlefield, he's anxious to get into the action. Next to him, Spidey does the same. "What are you worryin' about, Bic-head? Can't we just do what we always do?"

And not even waiting for a go-ahead, Ben and Spidey jump ahead, clobbering Doombots left and right as they make for the Castle.

So much for a consensus.

"Nice set of friends," a voice tells me from behind. I crane my neck slightly to see its Cap. Good ol' Cap. He claps a hand on my shoulder, and walks past me, swinging his shield in front of him. Way to go, Cap. Nerves of steel.

"Human Torch," I say, flaming on. "I think Doom needs another lesson."

Spidey's already got ten under his belt—"twelve," he says, correcting his count with every new lifeless 'bot. As for Ben and Iron Man up there? Well, they're just putting all of us to shame. But then…Ben was made for this kind of stuff.

That's not gonna stop me from beating his tally though. When five 'bots get in close together, I lift into the air and pull a supernova on them. Way to showboat Johnny.

Up ahead, Iron Man's already halfway up the hill to Castle Doom.

And…

"Why is Reed standing in Tony's way?" I ask to no one in particular.

Victor—

"Why?"

Shaw replies, and his voice is barely a creak. The audio-receptors in Doom's armor intercept and amplify the Black King's voice.

"It was science…"

"You're lying," Doom says. More forceful this time. And he squeezes harder on Shaw's throat. "Doom is no mere science experiment."

"To us…Hellfire…you were. Wanted to…test your limits…"

Shaw's eyes pop out ever so slightly in their sockets. The blood vessels are saturated. Ready to pop.

Doom relaxes his grip.

"Explain."

Reed—

"Sebastian Shaw is behind it all.He influenced the University to do what they did.He's the reason you're all after Victor."

"That's ridiculous, " Iron Man sneers. "I know Sebastian Shaw. If he's the Black King, I'm the King of England. Come on, Reed, you saw what he did to Thomas."

"And I know he did it in retaliation. He doesn't attack unless attacked first," Reed says vigorously. And this, calmer: "Not anymore."

Even through the armor, Reed can discern Tony Stark shrugging. This is Stark and his on the wagon irritation. "Alright," Iron Man says, taking great pains to do so. "We'll follow your lead."

"Wonderful," Reed says.

Victor—

Shaw catches his breath and sits up.

"The Hellfire Club, as you doubtless know, has been an agent for antagonism for centuries. Our latest incarnations have taken particular pride in persecuting Xavier's teams. And we wanted to branch out."

"And that extends to making Doom a wanted man?"

"To making you a potential member. You may be surprised at certain of our members, past and present."

Under the iron mask, Doom scowls. This puling spawn of an inbred woman's loins is not fit to gaze upon Doom.

"You are in no position to make requests of me, Shaw."

"It's power, Victor," Shaw says, his voice reekinga controlled hate."You'll have unlimited power. You'll be able to control nations and people like people herd animals, my friend. All I need is your agreement."

Doom's hooded skull cocks to one side. His cape drapes around his shoulders; Shaw doesn't even see Doom unclasp the holster and remove the Broomhandle Mauser. Doom readies the pistol and holds it behind his back.

His eyes behold a quivering and beaten Black King with a cold, if curious scrutiny. The offer is tempting. But then…

"I already command nations, Shaw. You and yourpreparatory school rejectsmay continue playing pretend with the fate of nations. My fate, however, lies with the rest of Latveria."

Shaw's eyes narrow. And he stands.

"And this is…your final decision?"

"Yes." There's no hesitation in Doom's voice.

Shaw scowls and lunges at Doom. The sharp cry of a gunshot silences both.

And the Black King recognizes his awful mistake in an instant. In an instant, Shaw's hand touches what's left of his stomach and comes back dripping blood.

"That's not…that's not…fair…"

Shaw gasps vainly for air. And when he can't find any, he falls to the ground, diving with unnatural quickness into shock. Doom's shadow falls over the Black King, and angles the gun at his forehead.

Pitiful creature.

"I would ordinarily keep this weapon in reserve for more worthy enemies. Perhaps even the unworthy enemies are the ones most worthy of Doom's consideration."

And Doom pulls the trigger. Too late for Reed to stop it.

Continued...