Phase Two

Dr. Doom hovered silently in front of Gene, now cloaked entirely in a shroud of black energy. Crimson lightning crackled within the inky darkness, weaving through his aura like veins of power.

His eyes, now glowing a blood-red hue, glared through the shadows with a demonic intensity.

"Well done, Victor," Gene said, nodding in faint approval. "You truly are a natural-born black mage. Your talent is remarkable."

Even someone like Dormammu wouldn't be able to bestow this level of dark energy on another being—not without them instantly exploding from the overload. No, this wasn't a gift. This was something Doom seized through his own formidable will. He had forcibly pried open a gateway to the Dark Dimension and was now siphoning energy directly from it.

The excitement from his recent breakthrough, combined with his unnatural affinity for the arcane, had shattered the limits of his physical vessel, allowing him to tap into a reservoir of power few could even dream of.

Now, Doom stood among the strongest spellcasters on Earth. In fact, the newly anointed Sorcerer Supreme—Stephen Strange—wasn't even worthy of shining his boots.

But in front of his former mentor, Gene Mason, even this newfound might still fell short.

Doom roared, a jagged bolt of blood-red lightning surging from his body. It morphed into a javelin, streaking through the sky toward Gene like a thunderbolt hurled by an angry god.

A golden magical shield shimmered into existence before Gene, instantly transforming into a massive hand of pure energy. He casually caught the javelin mid-air.

The javelin writhed and pulsed in his grip, discharging waves of volatile power, as if in disbelief that a single person could stop its rampage.

Gene, unphased, drew his arm back like a seasoned Olympian, then hurled the javelin back into the sky with tremendous force. The spiraling projectile ignited the air around it, creating a miniature vortex that sucked in debris and energy, forming a tornado around its path.

Doom's armor thrusters flared to full power as he veered out of harm's way. The javelin, deprived of a target, embedded itself into a nearby skyscraper—detonating with the force of a tactical nuke. In an instant, the building disintegrated into dust and flame, vanishing from sight.

"I admit it, Gene," Doom bellowed. "You're powerful—but don't think I, Victor von Doom, will go down easily!"

His voice, however, had started to lose its human edge. Something darker now crept into his tone. Unbeknownst to him, a twisted shadowy visage had begun to form behind him—a monstrous specter of the darkness he had drawn upon.

Blood-red and black energy surged from Doom's body in wild waves. The very air around him distorted, flickering with twisted silhouettes and ephemeral shadows. Massive gales howled around him, tearing apart everything nearby like a hurricane without mercy.

His mind was slipping, but his body moved on instinct. He raised his arms in a regal gesture—like a king commanding his legion—and the dark winds at his command formed countless razor-sharp blades of compressed space and energy.

The battle on the ground had completely halted. Mages who were previously locked in combat now simply stared upward, stunned by the cataclysm unfolding in the sky. Many had raised defensive barriers, knowing they wouldn't survive the aftermath otherwise.

The maelstrom Doom had summoned defied all human understanding of natural forces. The cityscape beneath them was being shredded as if it were paper caught in a typhoon. Compared to the titanic clash between Gene and Doom, the battle on the ground was like a petty street brawl.

Doom clasped his hands together. The tornado condensed rapidly, funneling into his palms as if being drawn into a singularity. Then, he unleashed it—an obliterating blast of compressed storm-force energy surged outward from his hands, not just targeting Gene, but seemingly aiming to erase the very horizon itself.

Gene evaded with uncanny grace, his body blurring into motion. One instant he was gone—the next, he appeared at Doom's side like a phantom.

The distance was so minimal that Doom could almost hear Gene's breath at his ear.

Panicked, Doom raised his armored arm to block—but it was too late.

Gene's leg, crafted from advanced alien alloy, slammed into Doom's arm with monstrous force. The Kree-forged gauntlet bent inward with a sickening crunch, forming a visible dent.

"What...?" Doom gasped, horrified. This level of power shouldn't be possible. No ordinary thruster-enhanced kick could deliver that much force.

Then he remembered. Gene had once proposed a new research project—developing Inhuman-enhanced power armor. Doom had declined the offer, too obsessed with his magical pursuits to care.

And now? Now that research was complete. It had been integrated into Gene's own systems.

Gene's armor, the result of countless hours of experimentation, was capable of fusing up to three Inhuman abilities into its framework. While limited, it was devastatingly effective.

Doom steadied himself mid-air, thrusters erupting with jet-black flame. The black energy had now begun to corrupt even the blue light of his propulsion system.

With a snarl, he launched a meteor-like punch, roaring toward Gene with full force.

The sound echoed like a sonic boom. In the distance, buildings trembled from the sheer kinetic pressure.

But Gene caught the blow.

His hand, firm and unyielding, closed around Doom's fist. The shockwaves that should've leveled a city block simply dissipated.

Then came the charge-up sound—the unmistakable hum of a repulsor cannon powering up.

Gene's palm blazed with golden light, and before Doom could react, a blinding beam fired point-blank into his chest, sending him crashing through the skyline.

He smashed through one wall, then another, until finally he collided with a skyscraper that had already been teetering from the earlier battle. The structure groaned under the final blow and collapsed entirely, burying Doom beneath rubble and steel.

The battle-scarred city groaned with the weight of destruction.

But the fight wasn't over yet.

Not for Gene.

Not for Doom.

Not for what was coming next.

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T/N:

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