[center][COLOR=SLATEGRAY][B] [/B][/COLOR][h1][color=#c7f0db][b]Doctor Doom[/b][/color][/h1][/center][hr]
[center][img]https://cdn.mos.cms.futurecdn.net/oSJKXc4mYUzzDVWt77ucL9-970-80.jpg.webp[/img][/center]

What Etrigan gave him wasn’t useless, but it was far from a complete picture. The Spear had been in the hands of the government, some division of SHIELD that no longer existed, and was no longer in their possession. The informant’s access did not allow him to know much more. It did contain another useful nugget, that there was a branch of magical organized crime called the Blasphemy Cartel interested in acquiring it, and that Joachim Hesse, a dealer in illicit artifacts had started talking with them, promising he’d be able to assist. Whether Hesse knew where it was or was merely offering his skills in locating it was uncertain, he could even be lying to them, but Doom had no other leads worth pursuing. 

Hesse considered himself something of an entrepreneur, one who had blasted out word about his business to every corner of the astral plane, even enlisting some extremely minor spirits as magical spambots. With a trail like that, it didn’t take Doom long to find the location of his sanctum. On the outside it was a converted industrial building in Red Hook, Brooklyn.

Tracking the man’s comings and goings was the first task. For those, Doom used a few strategically placed surveillance devices he built using an ESP32-CAM board, $16 for a two pack at MicroCenter. Although rarely displayed, Doom did have a practical side. The observations revealed that Hesse liked the feel of the city but did not conduct his actual transactions in his own home, his already shaky credibility might take a further hit if mystical guests spotted the Ikea down the street.

The next piece required more power, and so Doom turned to Nabu. He did not do so lightly. He invoked the power of the helmet and the great, billowing form of Nabu appeared before him. 

Doom said.

“I would like to discover if you have the power to help with this. I need to see where this man’s magic has been.”
Nabu did not laugh but found Doom’s attempts to avoid humility amusing.

Nabu said.

“I can. You will need to see through my eyes if you wish to harness my magic for this. Are you willing to try that?”

Doom said.

“Do you think me a coward who would not be able to handle this power? Of course I am willing.”

So, Doom opened his mind to Nabu and began to feel his presence in his mind alongside him. It was a spiraling mass, reaching through all of Doom’s thoughts without even trying, and it took effort to avoid surrendering completely. But what it gave was wondrous. Through the eyes of Nabu Doom could see webs and strings connecting all things, invisible pieces of order that guided the world, emanating on every scale, from the stars above to the individual atoms. It was wondrous, like seeing something a thousand times more mesmerizing than a rainbow. The challenge was not finding Hesse’s traces, which was trivial, the challenge was not getting lost in the cornucopia of unknown sensations from everything else. Doom cut it off with a great display of willpower, and when he came back to normal reality it seemed so small even though he had only experienced this augmented vision for a mere few minutes. Nabu was still there and said. 

“I am glad you see the value in my perspective.”

Doom did not answer him back. 

The scroll had at least mentioned a meeting date and purpose, Hesse and the Blasphemy Cartel were going to do a joint demon summoning as a way of getting to know each other, prelude to additional business, maybe trade in a soul for a favor. The Cartel was due to bring the sacrifices, while Hesse was to prepare the space for the ritual. Once again, Hesse was loath to attempt complicated magic outside a familiar area, and thanks to his surveillance Doom had managed to find all four of the potential spots and lay a curse at each one. All that remained was waiting for them spring the trap.

In the warehouse Hesse and the cartel members argued about who would start the ritual. The cartel was willing to do it but only with Hesse’s guidance, he sensed they were not actually as skilled as they let on, and didn’t want to be caught making a mistake that they couldn’t blame on someone else. There was also the matter of whether the sacrifice should be done at the start or wait until talking with the demon. Finally, Hesse just decided to try the summoning on his own, telling the cartel members “Don’t expect the recipe”, because he was in no mood to help them after this mess. None of that would matter because they would all have bigger concerns.

The fire whirled and whirled, rising higher and bursting with beams of multicolor light, until a great explosion of lightning and smoke erupted. When it cleared enough to see, no demon stood before them, only Doom. He said.

“Doom needs no petty invitations.”

It became clear who were cowards and who had some backbone. All but one of the half dozen Blasphemy Cartel goons stood and fought, but their weak firebolts and bullets enchanted with minor curses simply bounced off Doom’s shields, completely ineffective. His return fire came in the form of bright flashes from his fingertips, perfectly aimed and each hitting with enough force to blow through the primitive wards on the cartel had cast upon their bulletproof vests. When his volley finished, they were all on the ground, even the one who had declined to fight, and Hesse was cowering in the corner. Doom turned to him.

“I understand you were trying to summon someone who would barter for your soul. How quaint.”

With a sweep of his hand Doom invoked the magical power imbued in this place and felt it surge through him, then gripped the very soul of Hesse. It surged out of him, and Hesse’s body went limp as the lifeforce was transferred into the vessel Doom had made. 

“I acquire what I need without such trivialities.”

Now doom was satisfied but a nagging thought hit him, unsure if it was Nabu or the back corner of his own mind. He looked over the warehouse and found the people the cartel had brought in anticipation of a sacrifice, still locked in the back of a box truck. They were an odd mix, a pair of bums of the street, a refugee couple, and someone who looked like a crust punk, but all were equally terrified and confused. Doom sighed and opened a portal behind him. Through the other side the lobby of the department of social services was visible. He gestured and said. 

“Go on, flee! And tell all who will listen that….”

There was a paused while he came up with the next line.

“Doom saves, and woe be to all who would harm those he protects!”