chapter 36

Doctor Doom led the group to Fort Doom. He walked ahead majestically, his imposing figure setting the tone. The castle's dim lighting gave it an ominous aura, yet the burning candles cast a weak glow, barely illuminating the surroundings.

The stone walls bore clear veins, revealing the marks of time. These textures highlighted the ancient, sturdy feel of the castle, hinting at its deep history. Under candlelight, intricate patterns carved into the walls became visible, adding a touch of eerie beauty to the place.

Adrian gazed at the faint green light radiating from the walls, noting that the murals and statues within Fort Doom likely had more purpose than simple decoration.

"Hey, Vic, why did you bring us here?" Ben shouted, breaking the silence. He'd spent the whole afternoon battling zombies without a meal and was now ravenously hungry.

Without responding, Doom led them through every corner of the castle until they reached a grand dining hall. This room, unlike the rest, exuded an air of solemnity and grandeur. A massive, colorful glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, glittering like a giant jewel. Its light cast delicate patterns that danced across the room.

In the center stood a long, polished wooden dining table, covered with an elegant tablecloth embroidered with golden designs that gleamed under the candlelight. Metal candleholders adorned the table, casting a warm glow over the guests.

"Sit," Doom commanded as he took his place at the head of the table, draping his cloak dramatically as he settled in. The room seemed to grow colder as he sat.

The group exchanged glances before each found a seat. Doom shook a small silver bell, its soft chime echoing through the hall, an unmistakable display of his control over his surroundings.

Servants in formal black tuxedos immediately entered, carrying silver trays. Their manner was grave and disciplined, as though performing in a grand theater production. They approached Doom first, placing a feast before him: golden-roasted suckling pig, creamy mushroom soup with crisp breadcrumbs, juicy steaks, tender roasted chicken, and delicate fish dishes.

After serving Doom, they turned to the others, placing food before each guest.

Meanwhile, in the shadows, a massive hand seized the front of a yellow school bus, effortlessly crushing it into a ball of twisted metal. Screams echoed from inside as the metal groaned under the pressure.

"It's more fun to eat when you're small, but this is even better!" Ant-Man peered through a gap, laughing in a deep, gritty voice as he reached his oversized fingers into the chaos.

Adrian, seated at the dining table, picked up a ripe red fruit, biting into it. The pulp burst with sweetness, and its juice spilled from his lips, leaving a crimson stain.

"Hey, Doom, why are we sitting down for a feast? Aren't you even a little worried about the end of the world?" Pietro asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and disbelief. He couldn't bring himself to touch the food, staring instead at Doom, who ate with unshaken composure.

Doom paused, setting down his fork as he looked up, his gaze cold and prideful. "To eat peacefully in times of crisis isn't just a matter of feeding the body; it's an honor, a symbol of power. In times of doom, Doom's reign shines brightest."

Quicksilver frowned, visibly annoyed by Doom's attitude. He muttered, "But we're facing thousands of super-powered zombies! Don't you feel the slightest bit of anxiety?"

Doom looked calmly around the table, undeterred by Pietro's questions. "You're here, aren't you? So, what is it? Are you asking for Doom's help, or are you here to challenge Doom?"

The group fell silent, pondering his words. Adrian, after wiping his mouth, broke the silence. "Do you want to know how Reed died?" he asked, meeting Doom's gaze.

Doom's eyes narrowed, but he nodded subtly, giving Adrian the floor.

Adrian took a deep breath and recounted Reed's death. Doom listened intently, his expression darkening. When Adrian finished, Doom's lips twisted into a cruel smile, and he threw back his head in a harsh, guttural laugh. The sound echoed like a beast rising from the depths of darkness.

"Hahaha! Richards, the fool!" he sneered, finally composing himself. "To think I spent years clashing with such a weakling."

For once, Doom's speech lacked his usual third-person arrogance, as he spoke more naturally. Susan, visibly shaken, looked down, grief evident on her face as she struggled to reconcile her memories of Reed.

Doom turned back to Adrian. "Tell me your name. Richards may have been an idiot, but Doom would at least know the name of the one who defeated him. You're no ordinary figure to have reached La Tovilia."

"Adrian."

Doom gave a nod of recognition. "Well, Adrian, you've certainly surprised Doom. You are now a guest of Latveria. Speak freely."

Adrian looked over at Thor, who was busy devouring the feast, his focus entirely on the food. Smiling slightly, Adrian said calmly, "Why don't we continue our conversation?"

Thor raised his glass, a puzzled look in his eyes. "Move? Why? I'm not done drinking!" he said, genuinely confused.

Adrian sighed. Thor's current state of mind was definitely more focused on merriment than strategy.

"We should find somewhere quieter to talk. It's a bit too lively in here," Adrian suggested, his tone calm but firm.

Doom cast a long, appraising look at Adrian, then rose, his cloak flowing behind him as he strode out of the room.