Marvel: Rise of the Ultimate AI-Chapter 86: Victor Von Doom

"The Babbitt Corporation has officially announced plans to construct a high-security alien prison."

"Today, Reed Charlize revealed his upcoming mission to outer space for scientific research."

"With the Babbitt Group focusing on an alien prison and Stark Industries now the headquarters of the Avengers... what is Mason Industries doing?"

"In the face of the alien crisis, Mason Industries appears to be struggling—lacking both influence and resources to keep up."

"What kind of corporation can truly protect humanity?"

These headlines flashed across television screens, dominating news networks across America.

At New York University, deep within a dimly lit laboratory, a man sat in silence.

His cold, calculating eyes fixated on the television screen as the reports played out.

Victor Von Doom.

The name alone sent shivers down the spines of those who knew of him.

He was not an ordinary scientist.

He was not just another genius in a lab coat.

He was Doctor Doom.

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Doom's Origins

In the Marvel Universe, Doom was one of the most terrifying figures to walk the Earth.

A man who had mastered both science and sorcery—a combination that made him one of the most formidable beings alive.

At first, he was merely a brilliant mind with knowledge of Gypsy black magic.

But through years of relentless study, he had elevated himself far beyond his origins.

He had achieved technological prowess on par with Iron Man.

He had gained magical power rivaling that of the Sorcerer Supreme.

And he had conquered his homeland, Latveria, turning it into a global powerhouse.

But that was the Doom from the comics.

Gene Mason had never been satisfied with Doom's portrayal in the Fantastic Four movies from his past life.

Those adaptations had butchered his legend.

But now?

Now, Doom stood before him—alive, real, and powerful.

A genius cloaked in shadows.

And he would not be reduced to a mere second-rate villain.

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Doom's voice was cold.

"Mason?"

His piercing eyes locked onto Gene.

"You broke into my lab without permission," Doom said flatly. "I don't care who you are. My research is under the protection of the U.S. government."

Gene ignored his hostility.

His gaze drifted over Doom's notes, filled with complex equations and arcane symbols.

"Fascinating," Gene remarked, almost absentmindedly.

"Tendon sheath curling, space folding, dimensional traversal... quite ambitious."

Doom's eyes narrowed.

"But if I were you," Gene continued, "I would use atomic variables as the main factor in your space-folding equations."

Silence.

Then—

Doom froze.

His breath caught in his throat.

A storm of emotions flickered across his face—rage, shock, disbelief.

"You..."

His voice trembled with fury.

"You read my research?!"

To Doom, this was impossible.

His work was beyond human comprehension.

Even the greatest minds on Earth couldn't decipher his personal notes.

Because they weren't just scientific.

They were infused with Gypsy magic—a blend of science and sorcery no one had ever mastered.

And yet...

Gene had just corrected his calculations as if it were nothing.

Doom ripped open his notes, flipping through pages with frantic energy.

His mind raced.

Gene's suggestion—

It made sense.

It was so simple yet so revolutionary that it solved the very problem that had haunted him for months.

The breakthrough was instant.

His barrier had been shattered.

But who was this man?

What power did he possess?

Doom clenched his fists, his voice regaining its icy control.

"What do you want?"

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Gene smiled.

"I came to extend an invitation."

Doom's expression darkened.

"Mason Industries?" he asked, suspicion dripping from his tone.

Gene chuckled.

"No, Doom. You are above corporations, governments, and militaries."

His voice lowered, filled with quiet authority.

"If you accept my invitation..."

"I will grant you access to the most advanced technology on Earth—far beyond anything you've ever seen."

Doom's fingers tightened around his notes.

Gene leaned forward, his voice turning graver.

"And if that doesn't interest you..."

His next words shook the very foundation of Doom's soul.

"I can help you save your mother from Hell."

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For a moment—

Doom's world shattered.

A thunderclap echoed in his mind.

His fingers twitched.

His breath hitched.

His vision blurred as his brain struggled to process those words.

How?

How did he know?!

Doom had never told anyone.

Not a single soul.

His mother—a Gypsy witch—had been trapped in Hell when he was a child.

Seduced by the demon lord Mephisto, she had been dragged into the abyss, leaving Doom alone in this world.

Every calculated move he had made in his life—

Every deal with the U.S. government, every pursuit of science and magic—

Had all been in preparation for one goal.

To build a machine.

A machine that would allow him to descend into Hell and bring her back.

And yet—

This man.

Gene Mason.

He knew.

Doom's voice came out hoarse.

"How?"

"How do you know about my mother?"

Gene didn't answer.

Instead—

He pulled out a sleek, black phone and placed it on Doom's desk.

"In thirty seconds, you'll receive my contact information," Gene said smoothly.

"In twenty-four hours, the number will erase itself automatically—completely unrecoverable."

He straightened his coat.

"If you want to join me, call."

"If not..."

He shrugged.

"Ignore it."

With that—

Gene turned and walked away.

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Doom rushed to the door—

But Gene was already gone.

A man who knew his deepest secret, who held the key to his greatest desire, had simply vanished.

Doom stared at the phone.

His fingers tightened around it.

"Join them, huh...?" he murmured.

The thought lingered in his mind.

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That night—

Inside his darkened laboratory—

Doom worked furiously.

Sparks danced across the room as blue-white energy arced between massive coils of metal.

His machine—

His gateway to Hell—was nearly complete.

Sweat dripped from his brow.

"Mother..." he whispered.

"Just a little longer..."

He took a deep breath.

Sat down.

Put on his helmet.

And flipped the switch.

A blinding blue-white light enveloped him.

Instantly—

Agony.

Electricity surged into his skull—piercing through his cochlea—sending shockwaves through his nervous system.

Doom wanted to scream.

But he couldn't.

He felt himself vanishing—

His mind being torn apart.

And then—

Darkness.

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