The End of Time.
An inescapable finale, the moment when all timelines converge—the final instant before the universe's annihilation.
Universes collide, worlds crumble, and life on Earth vanishes.
Just a fraction of a second remains before the entire cosmos ceases to exist—a mere 0.000001 seconds, frozen artificially.
The sky is shrouded in darkness, light long extinguished. Countless parallel universes crash into one another, their collision yielding only oblivion.
Stars smash into stars, birthing a grotesque black hole that devours all light, reducing everything to nothingness.
Earths collide with Earths, their shockwaves reducing the world to rubble. Amid the chaos, a gust lifts a lone figure's cloak.
In a wasteland strewn with corpses, a solitary silhouette treads, leaving a trail of footprints in the ashen dust. The heavy steps stir the gray powder, which settles again as the figure moves on.
This figure surveys his nation, the land he cherishes.
Latveria, once vibrant, is now a barren expanse.
Yet in his eyes, he sees not ruin but echoes of the past—smiling citizens, cheering crowds. Skyscrapers once towered, lives were prosperous and stable, and they erected a majestic statue in his honor, adorned with garlands.
They called him "Master" or "Majesty." This nation was the embodiment of his will.
He loved everything here, even the rebels who opposed him, whom he saw as kin.
Now, standing silently in the former plaza, he faces his statue—reduced to two broken feet, like trees snapped by a typhoon, buried in rubble.
His green cloak billows behind him, his gaze unwavering with resolve.
He will avert this fate. He will protect his nation, his world.
"Valeria, initiate the plan," he commands through the trans-temporal communicator in his armor.
"Not so fast, Victor von Doom. We've been waiting for you at the End of Time," a voice interrupts.
"Doom sensed you. Thermal imaging and mystic vision both caught your signatures. I wondered when you'd show yourself, Deathstroke," Doom replies, turning to face them. His metal mask glints, eyes glowing beneath as he crosses his arms, studying the group.
Su Ming smirked, his mask melting away to reveal his face, dust instantly coating his skin in this apocalyptic wasteland.
This was the world's final chapter.
But Doom had halted it at the precipice, with his own plans in motion.
"Doom is curious," he said, tapping his mask without removing it. "You've already escaped the multiversal collision with your domain intact. Why meddle in this?"
Su Ming gestured for Magik and the others to stay put, approaching Doom alone. He needed Doom's help now, just as Doom would need his in the future.
Instead of answering, he posed a question. "How far is your true self's timeline from this moment?"
"One week. The Illuminati's efforts are futile. Only Doom can save the world," came the muffled reply, calm and resolute.
"And do you know what caused this?"
"Don't provoke Doom. You knew the future before I did, that's true, but flaunting it is beneath you," Doom retorted, still composed, arms crossed. Su Ming noted their future rapport—Doom hadn't attacked despite the taunt.
"You've misunderstood. I'm from 1945."
"Even lower," Doom scoffed, sitting on the statue's broken leg. "If you knew the state of things a century ahead in 1945, you should've warned Doom sooner."
"But there's still time, isn't there?"
"Yes, there is."
"I'm here to make a deal, Doom. Help me in the past, and I'll repay the favor in the future."
"You've always cursed me. Your 'deals' are a plague. Those who bargain with you meet gruesome ends," Doom said, unmoved.
"Yet here you stand, at the world's end."
"Indeed, I endure. Speak your terms," Doom conceded, willing to listen.
"You help me defeat a God of Stories. In return, I'll help you become Eternity. Simple. The universe's end is a week away for you—your options are few. My task has time and plenty of allies to choose from."
"A Loki, then? I'll need preparations."
"Deal?"
"Done. But Doom does not shake hands," he said, ignoring Su Ming's outstretched hand.
As a sorcerer, Doom heeded certain metaphysical superstitions. Legend held that those who shook hands with Deathstroke met their doom. Better safe than sorry. The universe's will subtly influenced all, and though his scientific mind sought answers, some truths remained elusive.
Doom wielded unparalleled technology and profound magical mastery, making him one of Marvel's mightiest sorcerers. His armor, forged by secluded monks, severed his soul from reality, redirecting the cost of his spells to his Doombots—a scientific bypass of magical limits.
The drawback? His soul's detachment left him emotionally hollow, save for his love for his mother and Latveria.
A titanium shell, cold and empty.
"Then have Valeria begin the transport," Su Ming said, waving the others closer. Doom's tech had a limited range.
"Do not command Doom. We are both masters of control, and this is merely a transaction," Doom replied.
"Uncle Doom? You okay? You shouted my name like you were spooked," a small voice chimed. A four- or five-year-old girl in a pink sweater sat on a hovering chair before a wall-sized computer. Her golden hair framed a doll-like face, but her eyes gleamed with uncanny wisdom.
Valeria Richards, daughter of Reed Richards (Mr. Fantastic) and Susan Storm (Invisible Woman). Their mutant genes made her a mutant too, with the power to shape energy into tangible matter. But her true gift was her superhuman intellect.
Reed, a prodigy, earned doctorates in engineering, mathematics, and physics from elite universities like Caltech and Harvard by his twenties. Valeria, at four, dismissed degrees as trivial—she already had plenty. Her scientific knowledge outstripped her era, baffling even geniuses like Tony Stark and Reed.
Last year, the Fantastic Four faced legal trouble, landing in international court—not due to a conspiracy but their own errors. Reed and Susan lost custody of their children, deemed unfit as "homicidal maniacs." Society believed gentle, kind guardians were needed to raise future pillars of hope.
The Fantastic Four were imprisoned, and Franklin and Valeria were sent to an orphanage. Franklin, also a mutant, could alter reality and create pocket universes. After conferring with Valeria, he crafted a world without heroes or villains to live an ordinary life.
Valeria stayed behind. With a computer and internet, she could learn anywhere—orphanage life wasn't much different. Reed's solution to their absence was a robot nanny, H.E.R.B.I.E., but it was soon hijacked by Ultron. The diminutive bot nearly wiped out the Fantastic Four and their children, only stopped by the Avengers' intervention.
Tony sympathized with Reed—AI mishaps were common. But Captain America lectured Reed and Susan on ethics, demanding they abandon dangerous AI. Valeria questioned why H.E.R.B.I.E. had a starship reactor and micro-nukes. Reed's response? He'd license an Arc Reactor from Tony and patch Ultron's exploit.
Was that the issue? The real problem was AI itself—could Ultron's intrusions ever be fully prevented?
Exhausted, Valeria concluded the orphanage was safer than home.
Days after the trial's fervor faded, Latveria's dictator adopted her. Doom leveraged his wealth and influence. For others, "rich as a nation" was a figure of speech; for Doom, it was literal. Latveria's GDP rivaled America's, despite its tiny size, and it was his personal domain.
Initially, Valeria feared Doom, her parents' nemesis, notorious for clashing with the Fantastic Four and Avengers, often wreaking havoc in New York. The Richards family's renovation bills were astronomical.
But Doom treated her kindly, like a daughter, spoiling her with the best food, clothes, and toys. The nation hailed her as a princess. Whatever she wanted, Doom built—even a S.H.I.E.L.D.-style Helicarrier for joyrides.
He trusted her, treating her not as a child but as an equal, granting her control over Latveria's advanced tech, including his Doombots. They lived happily, though whispers of Doom's past with Susan lingered. Was he once their neighbor?
Recently, she learned her parents had escaped prison. Sighing, she resolved to convince them to surrender.
But while tracking them, she uncovered a dire truth: the multiverse's worlds were colliding, spelling doom for all.