[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/HbXR9Uvl.png[/img][/center] [center][b]Victory Square, at the foot of Castle Doom Doomstadt (formerly known as Hassenstadt) Latveria Six Months Ago[/b][/center] [color=Silver]"My brothers and sisters,"[/color] Lucia von Bardas began as she approached the podium, [color=Silver]"After the long, bitter fighting that has seen so many suffer needlessly, we have at long last toppled the rotten, clapped-out regime that had been afflicted upon us for so long!"[/color] A thunderous din of triumphant cheers rose from the throng of loyal followers before her. Next to her on the dais, a haggard, beaten man was forced on his knees, trembling and crying, a pair of green-armored DoomBots flanking him on either side. [color=Silver]"Vladimir Vassily Gonereo Tristian Mangegi Fortunov,"[/color] she addressed her prisoner, drawing out his long name in almost mocking tones. [color=Silver]"[i]Former[/i] Prime Minister of an [i]illegitimate[/i] government. For nearly thirty years, you danced on strings pulled by NATO, propagating their lies and their deceit. Time and time again, Latveria has been given empty promises of autonomy, of 'greater standing in the international community,' of free and fair trade, only for more restrictions and sanctions to be placed upon us! Time and time again, you signed away land that rightfully belonged to the Latverian people, for the benefit of NATO and EU pet projects that have only done us harm! And each time you tell us to swallow their tripe, each time you tell us to settle for less, you line your own pockets with their dirty money!"[/color] The tens of thousands in attendance roared with boos and cries of anger. [color=Silver]"The people of Latveria have said [i]no more!"[/i][/color] Lucia bellowed. [color=Silver]"We have seen the way forward, and it is [i]not[/i] dancing to the tune of the Western pigs. The way forward is that promised to us by one of our own, the genius who brought us onto the world stage, who made the White House and the Kremlin tremble! This is the way of destiny! The way of fate! The Way of Doom!"[/color] Lucia paused to bask in the cacophonous applause, before turning back to the beaten man. [color=Silver]"And [i]your[/i] doom, comrade Fortunov,"[/color] she said, drawing a pistol from the inside of her jacket, [color=Silver]"is sealed."[/color] The gunshot rang out through the air, followed by another deafening roar of triumph from the crowd as Fortunov's body slumped forward, before falling off the dais and into the crowd, who proceeded to stomp and tear at the corpse until there was nothing recognizable left. [color=Silver]"The Way of Doom has saved the people of Latveria, my brothers and sisters,"[/color] Von Bargas beckoned, [color=Silver]"but our work is far from over! There are many yet who still cry out under the lash of the corrupt and the incompetent. Our brothers and sisters in Symkaria, in Sokovia, in Pokolistan, we hear your call! Our friends and comrades in South America, in East Asia, we share your struggle! Even our perceived enemies in Russia, in China, in America....they, too, will see the way to that shining future! In time, all will know the power and glory of Doom!"[/color] The cheers had grown so loud, the voices of the Latverian people shook the dais. [color=Silver][i]"Doom,"[/i][/color] she called out the now familiar chant, [color=Silver]"[i]does not beg!"[/i][/color] [color=Green][b][i]"DOOM![/i][/b][/color] the voices chanted back in unison, [color=Green][b][i]"DOES! NOT! BEG!"[/i][/b][/color] [color=Silver][i]"Doom denies death!"[/i][/color] [color=Green][b][i]"DOOM! DENIES! DEATH!"[/i][/b][/color] [color=Silver][i]"DOOM IS SUPREME!"[/i][/color] [h3][color=Green][b][i]"DOOM! IS! SUPREME!"[/i][/b][/color][/h3] [hr] [center][b]Von Eeden, Kingdom of Vlatava Four Months Ago[/b][/center] [color=LightSalmon]"Come, my queen!"[/color] shouted Grieg von Krupp over the immense noise of the helicopter's engines as its rotors began to spin. [color=LightSalmon]"The Legion has breached the palace! We [i]must[/i] get you to safety!"[/color] Her eyes wet with tears of panic and confusion, a tiny young girl scrambled across the tarmac, clutching a stuffed bear as if her life depended on it. Flanked by heavily-armed bodyguards who harried her forward, Queen Perdita Vladek ran towards the waiting chopper as fast as she could, sobbing uncontrollably. [color=Khaki]"M-make it stop!"[/color] the ten-year-old Queen wailed as the staccato bark of assault-rifle fire sounded from inside the palace less than a hundred yards behind her. [color=Khaki]"I w-want it to s-stop!"[/color] Grieg von Krupp had been the bodyguard of the Vlatavan royal family for twenty years, and it was a job he took very seriously. All the more so after King Bruno Vladek had died from a stroke five years ago, and Queen Perdova succumbed to lung cancer two years ago, leaving the young heiress an orphan. For the past two years, Queen Perdita had been surrounded by political enemies, ambitious Parliament members and jealous nobles who wanted the throne for themselves. On more than one occasion, von Krupp had rooted out plots against the child Queen from her scheming uncle, the now-banished Count Werner Vertigo. Count Vertigo vowed revenge for his humiliation at the hands of a child. And von Krupp had vowed he would see Vertigo dead before any harm would come to Perdita. [color=LightSalmon]"You're almost there, my queen!"[/color] von Krupp encouraged her. [color=LightSalmon]"Just a little further!"[/color] The attack had come like lightning, beginning only that very morning. After weeks of posturing against the neighboring nation of Symkaria, the Legion of Doom had revealed their sabre-rattling was merely a feint, launching a surprise offensive into the smaller kingdom of Vlatava instead. While the Vlatavan Royal Guard had been on high alert for months ever since the Latverian Civil War earlier in the year, the small nation could only mobilize a miniscule force, mostly outfitted with decades-old equipment from the days of the Soviet occupation. The Legion, on the other hand, seemed centuries ahead of Queen Perdita's forces, and had blown her army away like dandelions. Bram Velsing, the now-infamous 'Dread Knight,' had issued the invasion at 8 AM local time. By noon, the Legion had reached the capital city. A ear-splitting roar tore through the air overhead, as an old fighter jet-- a well-worn MiG-21 LanceR, its simple triangular wings and cylindrical fuselage repainted with the blue-teal-and-gold stripes of the Vlatavan flag-- swooped low above the palace, attempting to cover the royal family's escape by strafing the invaders with machine-gun fire from above. As it spewed bullets down into the mass of green-uniformed soldiers, however, the LanceR erupted into a dark orange fireball, the sudden wave of immense heat and percussive shock from the blast knocking the young Queen to the pavement. [color=LightSalmon]"Come on, get up, get up!"[/color] von Krupp begged as he tried to pull the girl to her feet. [color=LightSalmon]"Just a little more to go and--"[/color] There was a flash of red light, and the helicopter at the end of the tarmac exploded. In the split-second he had to act, von Krupp tackled Perdita to the pavement, feeling a sudden sharp sting in his lower back before everything became a blur of fire and pain. Grieg was not sure how much time had passed--seconds, minutes, years-- before his senses returned to him. The other bodyguards were strewn around him, some burning from being splashed with ignited fuel, others torn to shreds by shrapnel. As he fought through the agony that wracked his body tried to pull himself to his feet, Grieg realized he could not move his legs. A sharp, blinding pain drove him back down onto his face, and he fumbled with one free hand for the source of it, finding a long, jagged shard of metal lodged in his back. On the ground in front of him, Queen Perdita clutched her stuffed bear, curled into a ball, her face stained with soot and tears. [color=Khaki]"H-help...."[/color] she whimpered. [color=Khaki]"P-please....help...."[/color] [color=LightSalmon]"D-d-do not w-worry....m-my queen,"[/color] Grieg tried to console her through gritted teeth, fighting against the excruciating pain as he crawled towards her. [color=LightSalmon]"I w-won't let anyone h-hurt you..."[/color] [color=YellowGreen]"A touching sentiment, von Krupp,"[/color] came a familiar mocking voice from behind them, as a figure marched down the tarmac along a cadre of soldiers. [color=YellowGreen]"But I'm afraid it matters very little what you will and will not [i]let[/i] us do."[/color] [color=LightSalmon]"Count Vertigo,"[/color] Grieg spat out the name like poison. [color=YellowGreen]"That would be [i]King[/i] Vertigo now, worm,"[/color] the blonde one-eyed man in formal attire corrected him, his tone full of triumph. [color=YellowGreen]"I have suffered the indignity of serving under this miserable brat for quite long enough. The time has come for a change in Vlatava. I see a new way for the kingdom, and my new allies have been so very helpful in bringing this new way about."[/color] The roar of rocket engines filled the air around them as another figure approached from the sky. An enormous figure in thick purple and black armor, its helmet shaped and painted to resemble a stylized skull, the Dread Knight made the ground tremble with the impact of his landing. [color=DarkOrchid]"Queen Perdita Vladek,"[/color] the Dread Knight's voice boomed from his suit's external speakers, [color=DarkOrchid]"For generations, your family has held back your subjects, clinging to the outdated notions of kings and nobles. The Way of Doom has no place for these relics."[/color] [color=LightSalmon]"N-never,"[/color] Grieg von Krupp sputtered, fumbling for his service pistol. [color=LightSalmon]"I-I'll die...before I l-let you h-hurt her!"[/color] The Dread Knight turned his death's-head mask to the crippled man, and held out an open hand. [color=DarkOrchid]"Yes,"[/color] he said, [color=DarkOrchid]"That is [i]precisely[/i] what you will do."[/color] [color=LightSalmon]”Please, no….don’t….I beg you….”[/color] Velsing snorted with derision. [color=DarkOrchid]”Doom does not beg.”[/color] For a split second, Grieg von Krupp saw a flash of red light, and felt an intense flash of searing heat. Then, he neither saw nor felt anything ever again. [hr] [center][b]Markovburg, Principality of Markovia Two Months Ago[/b][/center] [color=Chocolate]"Everyone take cover!"[/color] Brion Markov bellowed out orders amidst the gunfire and explosions. [color=Chocolate]"I'll hold them off!"[/color] With a strained grunt, Brion thrust his right hand up, motioning like an uppercut punch at the column of advancing tanks. The thunder of shifting stone rang out as the earth heaved upward, tossing the dark green tanks in all directions. After Vlatava had fallen, the other satellite nations near Latveria fell like dominoes. Akenbourg, Barania, Kasnia, and Modora all capitulated within two weeks of each other. Transia, Alberia, Attania, and Nrosvekistan were soon to follow. In some instances, the Legion of Doom had poured across the borders and crushed their opposition like the fist of an angry god. In others, the government would simply roll over and capitulate without a shot being fired. Little by little, one pocket-kingdom and rump-state at a time, the bloc of nations that had broken away from the Soviet Union in the 1950s and 60s and sworn allegiance to Viktor van Domashev were being brought back into the fold. The Principality of Markovia had been next on that list. But the Legion of Doom would find this country to be made of sterner stuff. [color=Chocolate]"You dare to come to [i]my[/i] country,"[/color] Brion growled, ripping boulders out of the ground and hurling them at the Doomist soldiers, [color=Chocolate]"threaten [i]my[/i] family, [i]my[/i] people! And you have the [i]gall[/i] to call our ways backwards, while peddling the well-worn lies of a long-dead madman!"[/color] As a Legion VTOL drone launched a rocket at him, Brion stomped his foot into the ground, sprouting up a massive wall of stone around him. While the rocket blasted the rock to pieces, Brion stood unharmed, then with a wave of his hand, launched the rubble into the sky to fill the air with flak that perforated the invading drones. [color=Chocolate]"So long as I stand, Markovia stands!"[/color] he bellowed, a one-man earthquake, crushing his enemies with flying boulders, swallowing up others with huge fissures in the ground. Brion Markov stood against the might of the Legion of Doom, and for a time, stopped them dead in their tracks. But only for a time. [color=Lime]"Your tenacity is to be commended,"[/color] called out a voice, seemingly from all directions at once, [color=Lime]"but this battle is over. The Markov family has ignored the pleas of its people for years; do not presume to act as their champion and protector now that their liberators have come."[/color] [color=Chocolate]"Liberators?!"[/color] Brion scoffed. [color=Chocolate]"I have seen the type of 'liberation' your Legion brings. You have prisoners shot, hanged, or impaled in public! You round up populations like cattle to be brainwashed in your camps!"[/color] [color=Lime]"We remove the dross of society,"[/color] the voice retorted, almost condescending. [color=Lime]"Corrupt officials, gangsters, murderers, rapists, the predators and parasites that their old governments ignored or empowered. And yes, those who we have liberated must then be instructed in the Way of Doom, only so that they may find their new purposes, their new destinies. There is no place for mere 'cattle' among us."[/color] [color=Chocolate]"Spare me the propaganda,"[/color] he sneered. [color=Chocolate]"You and your jack-booted thugs are no different from every other tin-pot dictator to prophesy some brave new world. And you will collapse and die just like the others."[/color] Brion felt a sudden sharp sting in his neck, and within seconds, his limbs began to feel numb. [color=Lime]"Oh, I believe you will find us [i]quite[/i] different from the failed philosophies that came before us,"[/color] came the calm, almost academic voice of Kristoff Vernard as he materialized next to Brion, a now-emptied syringe in his hand. [color=Lime]"And we do not plan on dying out any time soon."[/color] As Brion's senses blurred, he felt his body fall forward, only to be caught by powerful mechanical arms. [color=Lime]"After all....Doom denies death."[/color] [hr] [center][b]Port of Los Angeles, California Now[/b][/center] [i][color=PowderBlue]"--claim credit for the bombing in Nairomi, making this the fourth time in just as many weeks that an insurgency in the third world can be tied to them. And make no mistake, folks, the People's Liberation Legion is very much a terrorist organization, designed to spread instability around the world to make it that much easier for their puppet-masters in Doomstadt to scoop them up later! The regime may be new, but their methods are the exact sort of stuff Doctor Doom himself was carrying out during the Cold War. Latch on to the fringe groups of society, then marginalize, disenfranchise, radicalize, and weaponize them! Have them do all your dirty work, softening up your targets for the bigger war to come! "And while all this is going on, pundits on both sides play the same tired old blame game-- the Right throws them in with the Marxists, the Left lumps them in with the Fascists. And this only lets the Neo-Doomist movement recruit from the extreme ends of the aisle equally! Joining me tonight to discuss what exactly makes this dangerous movement so seductive to the loonies and losers of the world, my guest--"[/color][/i] [color=Gold]"Uhhh, hey boss? I think you might want to take a look at this."[/color] [b][i]*CLICK!*[/i][/b] Harbor Master Bill Warrant switched off the small TV on his desk, and looked up at the stevedore who had come into his office. [color=Turquoise]"Something wrong?"[/color] he asked. [color=Gold]"I dunno, maybe,"[/color] the stevedore answered, approaching with a tablet. [color=Gold]"The [i]Green Harvest[/i] finally pulled in, and delivered her cargo manifest, and....and it's all [i]blank[/i]."[/color] Bill frowned. The [i]Green Harvest[/i] had been a publicity nightmare for weeks, after getting stuck in the Suez Canal for several days, making both the [i]Harvest[/i] itself and hundreds of other cargo ships incredibly late with their deliveries. The company had been made a laughingstock by one captain’s astounding incompetence, and things weren’t helped by tinfoil-hat types claiming they had seen other ships approaching the [i]Harvest[/i] in the middle of the night, unloading its cargo and replacing it with other containers. A blank cargo manifest wasn’t going to help those wacko rumors. [color=Turquoise]”Right,”[/color] Bill sniffed, getting up from his chair and getting ready to tear the captain of the [i]Green Harvest[/i] a new behind, [color=Turquoise]”If this dumbass can’t even steer a boat in a straight line, I guess filling out his paperwork is going to be too much for him to bother with too. Gimme a minute, and I’ll be down there to give this guy a piece of my mind.”[/color] Several minutes later, Bill stormed out onto the wide loading dock where the enormous cargo ship was moored, cranes having already unloaded a dozen shipping containers before he arrived. [color=Turquoise]”Hold on, hold on, what the hell is all this?”[/color] he yelled to the workers who seemed to ignore him as they went about their tasks. [color=Turquoise]”Nobody told you to start unloading the ship! Get this stuff back on until—“[/color] [color=SeaGreen]”Excuse me, Harbor Master Warrant?”[/color] a distinctly European man called him by name as he approached. Bill raised an eyebrow, growing wary. [color=Turquoise]”….yeah, that’s me. How did you—“[/color] [color=SeaGreen]”I was instructed to meet with you upon our arrival,”[/color] the blonde man answered. [color=SeaGreen]”I believe I can provide some answers to questions you must be asking yourself.”[/color] [color=Gold]”Boss, what the hell’s going on?”[/color] the stevedore asked, growing uneasy himself. [color=Gold]”I don’t recognize any of the crew out here.”[/color] [color=SeaGreen]”If I may?”[/color] the mystery man asked, before turning and shouting. [color=SeaGreen]”Lazlo! Franz! The container!”[/color] With crisp, almost mechanical movements, two of the deckhands put down their work and approached the nearest container. Undoing the latch, the two of them swung the steel doors wide open. Inside the container were row after row of black rectangular crates. The deckhands then pulled one of the crates out of the container, setting it down before the Harbor Master. Typing in the pass code on the crate’s keypad lock, they lifted the lid to show its contents. [color=Turquoise]”H-hey now, this isn’t—“[/color] Bill stammered. [color=Turquoise]”…oh my God, it is…”[/color] Inside the crate were a half dozen state-of-the-art military-grade automatic rifles. Bill had heard about these on some of the chat groups he frequented. Using electromagnetic rails instead of gunpowder, they projected bullets at hypersonic velocities, allowing a 9mm round to hit with the force of a traditional .50 cal, and did so without a muzzle flash and barely a whisper. What’s more, they could be fitted with any number of modifications, from increasing the rate of fire to that of a conventional minigun, to increasing the distance to rival those of the leading sniper rifles. Given the size of the container and how many crates were in it, there must have been nearly a thousand rifles in the single container alone. And considering how many containers were aboard the [i]Green Harvest[/i]…. [color=Gold]”Jesus Christ,”[/color] the stevedore muttered. [color=Gold]”You could set up a whole friggin’ [i]army[/i] with—“[/color] [b]*BLAM!*[/b] The stevedore fell to the concrete, a hole punched straight through his right temple and out the left side of his skull. Harbor Master Bill Warrant lowered the smoking pistol, and turned to the blonde stranger. [color=Turquoise]”It’s really happening?”[/color], he asked, sweat beading on his brow. [color=SeaGreen]”Very soon, my friend, very soon,”[/color] he answered. [color=SeaGreen]”The day is very nearly at hand, and you will be one of the heroes who helped bring it about.”[/color] Bill struggled to catch his breath, then finally drew himself up, and put his right fist to his chest. [color=Turquoise]”Doom is supreme,”[/color] he said, barely able to contain his excitement. The blonde man grinned. [color=SeaGreen]”Doom is supreme.”[/color]