Arc Nine. Chapter Two-Hundred Fifty-Nine. End Of The Day

Doom picked himself up and dusted off his armour. “You mindless cretins shall pay for this insult towards Doom. Each step was meticulously planned. As if Doom would do anything to harm reality. Doom is not a hack sorcerer, unlike the rabble he sees before him.”

A few people had already stopped, seeing Doctor Doom rolling along the road and the small group that followed. As an international figure, slowly building a presence he was known enough that a few people had cell phones out, recording the commotion. Sensing the people outside, Peter let his armour slide back, Causing an international incident as Venom was the last thing he wanted.

“Yeah yeah, nice third-person monologue, I hear that's usually the result of brain damage.” Peter said, waving a hand and taking out his phone, “Hey Shuri, long story but I'm in New York again, is everything okay?” He nodded and paused a few times, “Oh uh right, Viktor Von Doom, ring any bells?” and Peter had to hold the phone away from his ear as Shuri began to yell. “Yeah, I got that, one moment then.”

It had been disorientating to suddenly find himself in New  York, but as Wanda touched his mind as he took back the Stone, he realised what had happened, and what Doom had done. ”Hey Shuri, Can you collect the ship in Egypt, and when you find a box, can you bring it back to New York. Love you too, bye.”

Suppressing the rage he was feeling right now, he looked over at Viktor, busy brushing dust off himself and yelling at the pedestrians who insisted on taking photographs. With so many witnesses he figured crushing the man’s skull would maybe be a bad idea, for now anyway.

“Right, I checked, nothing other than Latveria, oh and my wife to be Queen Shuri says to kiss her ass, Latveria isn't getting Vibranium. She’ll find the original box the stone was in, and Wanda should be fine. Uh, Wanda?” and Wanda had floated out of the crumbling building, hidden behind the brickwork,

“No, he needs to pay. Some crimes are unforgivable,” but Peter shook his head.

“We can’t. Latveria is an internationally recognised country, Doom has immunity. Strike him down and he becomes more powerful than ever before,” and Wanda tutted,

“Star Wars, you’re going to quote Star Wars to me while that man walks free?”

Peter shrugged, “I thought it kinda fitted, but uh, no choice. He’s the ruler of a country, unless you want to live in the sanctum for the rest of your life then we have to.”

Wanda tutted again and folded her arms, “I don't like it,” and as a motorcade of security and a stretched limo pulled up, several black-suited men, all armed exited and surrounded Viktor. A well-dressed man stepped forwards and held out a pile of papers.

“To prevent an international incident, you will sign, or we will lodge a formal complaint,” and Doom laughed.

“I am always in awe of the power of lawyers,” and Peter smiled and stepped forwards,

“Oh great, yup, Right. As a Wakandan Royal Consort, I’ll sign an affidavit saying Doom here made several suggestive comments towards the Queen of Wakanda, and as is my right I challenged him to combat, beat his ass until he cried for his mommy and then wet his armour. You guys saw that right?”

The six behind him all nodded, “oh yeah, we saw.”

Doom snorted, “Leonard, we shall leave these lesser beings to their games. I wish to see Latveria once more,” and as the man gave Peter and the others a dismissive look he turned and opened the limo door for Viktor. “Doom shall not forget this insult.” and he swished his cape as his aide closed the door behind him.

As he slumped into the limo he gasped in pain. The scarlet woman’s attack had fused him to his armour and the agony was threatening to overwhelm him. He would need sacred tomes to heal the damage she had done, and several days in the regenerative liquids he had developed in one of his alterations. If they were keeping the stone from him, he feared he would never properly recover. As he sat in the back of the Limo, Viktor cursed not just the Scarlet Witch, but Peter Parker as well, and he vowed that not only would the Stone be his once more, but that he would see them crushed beneath his boots.

As the motorcade pulled away, Peter shook his head, that would not be the last they would see of him.

A bright yellow circle split the air next to Peter and as he turned and tensed he complained, “oh what now?” but Stephen walked through circling one hand over the other,

“Sorry, I felt waiting a day to contain a problem was not a good idea,” and Peter saw the bright sun of the desert and the pale yellow rocks of the spaceship's burial chamber. “Is this the box?” Stephen asked, and as Peter nodded, Stephen handed it to Wanda. “While it will boost your power immensely, I would breathe easier if the stone was kept safe, and out of sight.”

Wanda was about to argue, but feeling its power mix and strengthen her magic she knew unlike Peter that swallowing the Reality Stone would be a very bad idea, and gently lifting it with her power, she placed it in the box and snapped it shut. “Will you keep this safe?” and handing it to Stephen, he nodded,

“We have a vault for dark artefacts, but this,” and as he held the box away from the eye, “this I will make a separate vault for.”

“An' that's great an' all, but what about me?” Ben asked. Unlike the rest, his body was massively mutated. His already thick and stocky frame was made worse by the ridges of orange rock that covered his body. He was holding a hand over his face, as passersby were busy taking snaps of him.

“We’ll fix it, Ben,” Reed said, patting his friend on the shoulder but Ben shook his head,

“Nah, you got the rock,” and he pointed at Wanda, “Why ain't you fixin me?” but Wanda shook her head,

“I tried. Whatever Doom did, you are stuck like that. I would tear reality apart if I pushed harder.”

Reed stepped in front of him, “Ben, if it can be done, it can be undone, I’ll fix it. I promise.” Reed looked over at Peter and give him an angry look, “I don’t abandon people.” and Ben huffed,

“I get it, one guy ain't worth squat over the world right?” and he shook his head and Stephen and Wanda both solemnly nodded, “Yeah, you commin’ Suzie, or still workin’ for him?” but Sue shook her head

“No, I’ll come back,” and she wrapped her arms around herself, “I found out a few things,” and as she gave Peter a strange look, a mix of revolution and confusion, Peter could feel that she was still reeling from the brief exposure to Hexen, while Wanda used the two stones. Ben reached forwards, and in a massive hand, helped her to her feet.

Peter shrugged though. If they wanted to blame him for Viktors mistake he didn't care, it wasn't the first time he’d been blamed for something without evidence and it wouldn't be the last. He just hoped whatever Sue's problem was, didn't upset Gwen.

“I will help them get home,” Stephen said to Peter and Wanda. “You are kind of conspicuous now,” and he created a sling ring portal into the Baxter Building, and even as Reed stared and tried to examine it, Stephen ushered them through.

“I will stay at the Sanctum, Peter,” Wanda said as he crossed her arms, “I am feeling unwell from the stone, and Stephen can help.”

Peter noticed that Wanda looked slightly different, her hair had darkened slightly, losing its red lustre and becoming browner,

“Are you sure?” and as he leant to touch her she took his hand and pulled herself into his embrace,

You are worried I am not me, she thought 

Kinda, your hair. It's not red

I dye it, she laughed, it must have been burned off in the chamber, you never noticed?

You do kinda shave everywhere else, so I get a pass on that one

Wanda laughed, I can stop you know, but Peter shook his head

And I like hair in my teeth as much as anyone, so no, plus, it's kinda sexy seeing it

Yes yes, and we have made sure that sure this dimensional instability is nothing to worry about. You can stare at it all you like, as long as staring isn't the only thing you do while down there.

Peter frowned, that didn't sound good but Wanda didn't sound too worried.

“Ahem!” Stephen cleared his throat, “If I can interrupt, I would also suggest you give me the Mind Stone, for safekeeping. Having an Infinity Stone in the open, and without protection is unwise,” and Peter raised an eyebrow

“So, kinda like hanging it around your neck and wandering about looking like a ren faire reject kinda unwise?” And while Wanda snorted and covered her mouth, Stephen just shook his head

“I’ll take that as a no then,” and Peter smiled.

“I'm going home,” and he paused, “Oh, if you want to use that portal thing to get home, want us first, I don't want Laura freaking out and you know” and he made a jabbing motion. “She’s still kinda twitchy.”

Stephen sighed, “I can send round Wong at some point and provide magical wards around your home, but I will require some compensation,” and Peter sighed,

“Don't suppose you take vibranium either do you?” and Stephen shrugged and smiled,

“It is a magical metal after all,” and Peter sighed. His stockpile was dwindling, even with the amount Shuri had promised him. Once everyone found out about it, it seemed that old favours and promises of help were being dragged out of the woodwork with the silvery grey metal being carved up as compensation, thank god Ross got his already and Peter's shoulders slumped as he still had to go and check on Sterns.

Leaning forwards and kissing Wanda, “see you at home, don't let the house-elves keep you too late,” and once more Stephen shook his head,

As he motioned for Wanda to head into the sanctum, Stephen paused, “that does remind me, where did Wong get to?”

Across the world, in a hidden valley, surrounded by a strange mist, Wong sat on a throne carved from the finest jade, behind him was carved an icon from the whitest marble, a series of connected rings, each one representing the paths of sorcery, plus one more. The forbidden path. Ten Rings in total.

A warrior, decked in black apparel approached, “Master, the dimensional distortion has passed.”

Wong stroked his long beard, “good, and the valley?”

“As you instructed, all warriors were moved behind the wards, and none were affected.”

Wong nodded, and the warrior bowed as he pressed a fist into the palm of his other hand.

America was different after the war, and once the nazis allies had fallen it was much harder on the losers. Several chunks of Japan and Germany had been carved off and held as collateral, especially with Dooms influence. While Wong had still received training in the mystical arts, seeing the Americans and their allies treat his country and his family with disdain had led him to turn to the forbidden arts. Murdering his master and stealing himself away Wong had studied hard to master as many of the arts as possible. 

It was during one of these sessions he discovered that reality had been altered. He could see a faint mystical signature that he knew meant the Allies had cheated to win the war. Such large-scale magic would be impossible without the Sorcerer Supreme to guide it, and hiding away he began to build an army to fight against such power. 

America had become a pawn of Doom's empire, and once Captain America was out of the way anyone with an inkling of a brain could see what was going to happen, and as Doom promised to make them all rich from strip mining captured territories, the American Military Complex happily agreed.

Knowing it could happen again Wong had built his fortress in the remotest part of the world and spent a fortune, and many lives to construct the best defences he could. His fortress was impenetrable, not to the mundane but to magic as well. He knew its dimensional wards were almost as strong as the ones at Kamar Taj. They should be, as he used forceful mind magic to rip their design from the sorcerer in charge of maintaining them.

As he stood he strode down the corridor of his fortress and stood on the balcony, watching as his warriors fought and trained together. 

Every conceivable type of combat was taught here. Each warrior was a testament to the finest enhancing magics as well as the finest mercenaries they could find. Each man rippled with taunt and trained muscles and was an expert in every conceivable weapon, as well as deadly combat magic drilled into them every day.

Only the strongest survived the training, Wong himself made sure of that. Each man was worth dozens of those useless Americans, who relied on their stolen technology and chemical formulas.

As he stood, their instructors noticed his gaze and yelled,

“Pay respects to the master.”

Every warrior stopped and turned to bow, and as one they began to yell,

“All Hail The Mandarin!”