18. A Battle of the Mind

For decades Earth has been home to the fantastic and the unusual. From impossible feats of science to magical beings beyond comprehension, all found themselves attracted to Earth for one reason or another. Earth was, plain and simple, a place of wonder and mystery like no other in the universe. And nothing is as wondrous, or as terrifying, as the one that stood above all the other marvels. His name?

Doctor Doom.

Pure raw power flashed all around him as Doom took a step forward, the previously semi-darkened chamber where he stood now illuminated by the flashes of mystical energy surrounding him. It was a scene many had seen and few had lived to tell, for if Doom was one of the greatest wonders of the world then his wrath was the greatest of horrors.

"You dare spy upon me, upon Doctor Doom himself?" His voice was full of power and charisma, how much of it artificial and how much real something not even Doom himself could tell by now.

The recipient of his ire didn't react, showing neither worry nor anger of his own. Almost as if it wasn't a real thinking being. But as far as Doom could discern the creature of magic in front of him was no puppet, but the one behind the intrusion into Doom's privacy and for that he would make it pay.

"I did not spy on you," was the creature's answer, its fae-light eyes flashing brighter for a second. The answer delivered in such a matter of fact tone that it even surprised Doom for a moment.

The creature's voice was deep and powerful, not unlike Doom's own, and there was no real feeling of deception there, for Doom could feel no fear or concern emanating from the creature. It was almost as if it had no understanding of the danger Doom represented to it.

Intrigued by this and having decided not to instantly destroy this would-be enemy, Doom focused his prodigious mind upon the task of deciphering the being in front of him and to decide if to allow its continued existence or not.

Faster than most computers and aided by his armor, which was itself a blend of sorcery and science beyond what the world had to offer, Doom saw, felt and understood the creature standing in front of him. A being of magic, its raw power clear to anyone with half a brain, and reeking of death. The being confronting Doom was one who wore the shape of a great skeleton, its biological body long gone and now maintained purely by the way of the arcane, but he could yet feel the vibrant unlife that gave it power, unlike anything Doom had seen before. Whereas Doom was clad in the greatest of magical items, this being was much the same, its robes and jewelry brimming with unseen power only waiting to be unleashed. Even more, Doom could feel a powerful aura of terror stronger than most he had seen surrounding the being, the magical compulsion defeated only by dint of Doom's own great defenses.

The more he saw, the more he knew, Doom understood that the being before him was no small dabbler in the arts of the arcane but a creature as powerful as few Doom had met in the realms of the mortals.

As unbelievable as it sounded, Doom accepted he had made a mistake, for this was no puny little fish trying to swim where the great sharks tread, but another great shark scenting for its equals… or for prey.

The idea that this being may consider Doom prey, that he may have fallen for such clear ruse, it angered him. For Doom was forever a mercurial being whose anger knew no bounds nor limits and which was only surpassed by his infinite pride.

At first when he had discovered the magical surveillance Doom had suspected that a middling sorcerer, one with power but not enough skill, had tried to steal his secrets and had thus let the unknown observe him as a way for setting up his own trap. The ease which Doom had followed the spell back to its caster making the enemy sorcerer's inexperience clear. Or was it?

Now Doom realized that in his zeal to avenge the offense he had failed to consider that the enemy may never had intended for the spell to remain undiscovered and now that he could verify the calmness and power of the creature before him Doom all but confirmed this theory.

It was clear as day now, the creature before him had not tried to spy upon Doom but had instead called out to him. But it was not just a call, for it had also clearly tested Doom. Whereas any being could summon enough power from the arcane to speak, this being had made what many not of Doom's greatness would consider a very competent scrying for no other purpose than to see if Doom could detect it as such and answer accordingly.

In most cases such blatant insult would no go unpunished, for no one would dare doubt Doom's skill in sorcery. But now Doom could do nothing but contain his ever increasing rage, for if he did not then it would be clear to the undead before him that Doom had failed its test.

And Doom knew no failure.

All of these thoughts went by in a flash, Doom's superior mind coming to a conclusion before a second had passed. And once a course of action was decided Doom acted.

"I have heard your call and I have come. Better hope you haven't made me waste my time or you will curse the day you crossed paths with Doom!" the creature didn't seem to react to Doom's words, clearly having expected this development.

"I bid you welcome, great Doom. My name is Ainz Ooal Gown, I-" but Doom cut it, him, off before he could continue.

"There is no need for names, and I already know what you are, undead. You reek of the energies from beyond this plane," spoke Doom as he took a step forward "now speak your piece and tell me why you have called me."

"Of course. I simply wanted to greet you properly. It would bring shame to me and those I represent if I didn't" answered the so-called Ainz Ooal Gown, truth once again permeating his words.

Doom knew yet not who this being was, his name meaning nothing to the latverian king, but at least he knew the creature was not a liar. And Doom could at least tolerate any being who recognized his greatness.

"Then let's talk, Gown," said Doom as he powered down most of his weapons and lessened his magical emissions.

And so it was then that one monster would speak to another like few had before. And even as the world remained unaware, a meeting between legends took place.

---

​

As they moved out from the room Doom felt many prescenses all around him, all of them exuding arcane power in a way that lit them up to his built-in magical detectors as if abonfire were to be next to an infrared sensor.

The beings were clearly hidden and most masters of the arcane, never mind most people people, would have been hard pressed to even notice them. Enough to say that this was no problem for Doom, whose technology and magical knowledge were completely beyond anything Earth had ever seen.

Or at least they should be, yet this Gown does not seem disturbed. He is either a fool or too sure of his abilities, either way I'll test him and if he is found wanting…

But Doom was not one to speak up his mind nor one to show when he was probing for weaknesses. Instead he complacently walked behind the undead sorcerer, completely sure in his ability to escape any trap the undead could device.

Eventually they reached what he assumed was their destination. A big beautifully carved wooden door closing their path.

Gown took a step forward and, with a small wave of his hand, the door opened. The undead quickly entered the room, which lightened as he passed the threshold.

It wasn't magic, I didn't feel anything, nor did my armor detect it. He is not one to squander his power in vanalities, then.

Doom could never give true approval to anything done by other people, for it would imply that he felt something approaching real respect for them, but he could at least appreciate when they took sensible and efficient actions. And while what Gown had done may have gone unnoticed by any other person, Doom wasn't any person. Because Doom knew, from both his experience and studies of the world, how easy it was for those with power to waste it, to use it for small petty things instead of carefully hoarding it for its use in greater endeavors. It was depressingly common for sorcerers to be and other practitioners of the arcane to fall prey to their baser instincts and get drunk in their own power, the less said about lesser men the best.

"Please do come in Lord Doom." spoke Gown from inside the room and after a quick internal deliberation, Doom complied.

It had become clear by this point that the so called Ainz Ooal Gown wa no fool and had thus decided not to oppose Doom or, if he had, it was not with something as simple as an ambush after calling for parley.

Regardless of the real intentions of the undead, Doom walked into the room confidently, sure of his security even as he felt the door close behind him and the many unseen guards of the undead surround take positions all over said room.

The room itself was neither big nor small, the size of a school classroom at most. It was richly decorated, with a beautiful carpet covering what his armor's sensors identified as high quality marble. The room was dominated by a big table with half a dozen chairs around it and illuminated by a golden chandelier of the greatest quality.

But what was interesting to Doom was not the room's decorations, as beautifully crafted as those were he had no mind for such petty things, but how it reeked of magic. Everything around him was imbued with some form of spell or enchantment. From the chairs to the walls themselves.

In a different situation Doom may have reevaluated his previous opinion of Gown, but he knew this not to be simple banal pleasure at the expenditure of power in a meaningless manner. For these enchantments had a clear purpose.

He could not analyze them all, for even his prodigious mind and outstanding armor were not properly equipped for seeing so many spells so quickly. But those he did analyze, first and foremost those crashing against his armor's passive defenses, had clear utility purposes.

Unclouded minds, greater regeneration, increased intellect, anti-poison. All the effects were beneficial to those occupying the room in one way or another, it was truly a wondrous weaving of magic into the mundane.

And it was highly suspicious too.

Doom doubled down upon his sorcerous defenses, completely shutting off any form of foreign influence no matter how seemingly beneficial. For he was no fool who would fall to such a free meal hiding poison within.

Still, Gown's use of subterfuge was of great interest to Doom, as it proved his host was no simple mind and more importantly, that he was still testing Doom.

And that can't be allowed to continue, He thought with annoyance.

With but a thought, Doom changed his armo's passive defenses into their lower active mode. Suddenly the arcane pressure of the room disappearing all around him.

This was noticed by Gown, who softly tilted his head to the side, a clear indication of his acknowledgement of Doom's capabilities.

So it was a test then. This is getting more tiresome by the second, But as much as it angered him, Doom could not fault Gown for testing him so. The world was plagued by inferior minds after all and he wouldn't want to lose time with some simpleton either.

"Please do take a seat Lord Doom, no one will listen to us so we can talk freely," Gown pointed at one of the empty chairs in front of him and waited for Doom to take a seat.

Meanwhile, Doom felt the many guards around them move as they scurried away. Their movements clearly reluctant.

So he is going to part with his guards. Are you still playing a game, undead? Or have you already understood my true greatness?

Regardless of his reasons, Doom understood that Gown was showing what some people could call 'trust' and that not answering with the same coin would be an implicit admission of weakness, of being afraid.

And Doom knows no fear.

As he sat down Doom felt the chair's shape slightly change to better fit his armored frame. He thought about forcing said change to stop but decided against it, as such petty uses of power were also below his station.

"Stop with the platitudes and tell me what do you want from me or prepare to face my wrath! No one who dares intrude upon Doom's privacy is left unpunished," part for intimidation's sake and part because of his annoyance at the current situation, Doom let a sliver of power into his speech, making his already powerful voice into something truly beyond human.

Gown for his part remained unintimidated by this, his expressionless skull making it hard for Doom to get a proper read of him.

But even if Gown didn't show it Doom was sure his words had thrown the undead off. The direct way Doom had approached him, especially after the many subterfuges and other mind games, showing that Gown was a very crafty and intelligent manipulator, working by using complex plans that rested upon controlling the flow of the conversation. With his direct attack Doom had avoided dancing upon the undead's whims and had instead forced him into Doom's own pace, which would leave him open for Doom's follow up.

"I wanted to learn from you" the instantness of the answer caught Doom off guard, the great scientist-sorcerer such an answer.

"Learning from Doom is only sensible, but what did you pretend to learn?" But Doom was not one to be put off either, his answer coming as quick as Gown's.

"Well, you are a great king and sorcerer, the best of this world according to my sources. It is clear to me that-"

"Say no more Gown, I understand now," and understand he did, for Doom's mind had already deciphered the puzzle in front of him.

In a way it was obvious and Doom couldn't help but be angry and taking so long to figure it out.

It wa clear that Gown was a plane traveller, having come from a completely different realm than the one where Earth resided in. It was also clear that he had a mind at least comparable to the thrice damned Richards, if not of Doom himself, and a great sorcerous power too. Such being would only be in search for one thing, especially if going as far as to plane shift.

He is in search of an equal then?

For all that Doom was a superior being to the rest of the human race, and those not of it, he could understand the need for an intellectual peer. Someone with whom he could exchange words and not feel like he was talking with a half brain dead monkey.

And now that he knew this, the strange mix of testing and honesty made sense. This being was not probing Doom for weaknesses but searching to see if he was up to par and Doom could perfectly understand why.

With this new revelation Doom… Doom didn't relax, but he changed his metaphorical stance from one of someone expecting an imminent fight against a powerful enemy to that of a man wary but interested.

"Then let me present myself. I am Victor von Doom, ruler of Latveria and known as Doctor Doom," his voice was now devoid of power, if still not that of a mortal man "Make it so this isn't a waste of my time."

"And I am Ainz Ooal Gown, leader of Nazarick," answered the undead as he extended his hand " a pleasure to meet you".

And as Doom took Ainz's extended hand, what would one day be considered the strangest of friendships started.

---

​

Now in the present, as he walked to the meeting room where he would receive his fellow ruler-with-an-iron-fist Ainz could only think one thing.

How did I even manage to survive? I'm still pretty sure Doom saw through me, yet he hasn't said anything. Maybe he is a well meaning person after all?

When they had first met Ainz had been terrified. His non-existent heart had almost stopped when Doom had first teleported in front of him while disregarding the, admittedly weak, defenses Ainz had surrounded himself with. He had been getting lazy when dealing with a world seemingly devoid of magic and had almost paid the price. It is enough to say that he never made the same mistake again.

But Doom himself had been too much of a surprise, the obvious magical aura surrounding him making it worse. It was for this reason that Ainz, who was paralyzed with shock even as his emotion suppression worked overtime to reset his growing fear every time as it peaked over and over again, that he unconsciously answered Doom's question in such a simple manner.

This had clearly made Doom even more angry and forced Ainz to try and placate him down somehow. Worrying that if he didn't do anything soon he would need to use force, Ainz had instead chosen to move the conversation to a more hospitable place than his personal computer room, going instead to a rest area he had ordered built for the NPC's. It was a nice little room and had enough chairs for both of them to sit.

It was then that Ainz remembered Doom's words 'I know what you are'. That, combined with his hostile demeanor could only mean one thing. That Doom had found out what a farce Ainz was!

Fuelled by his fear Ainz had ordered all his guards, who had thankfully yet to make an hostile move against Doom, out. With them out of the hearing range Ainz could still hope to maintain his facade as an all-knowing, wise leader. Worst come to worst he could always beg Doom not to expose him or if it came down to it, fight him.

As it was, Ainz was forced to wrack his brain for an answer to his then-current predicament and come out empty. It seemed like they were destined for a showdown.

Then suddenly Doom's demeanor changed, and while he remained haughty and aggressive, his clear anger was no longer there and acted almost friendly, by a certain way of looking at it at least.

Eventually it became clear that for one reason or another, Doom had decided not to rat him out and was instead ready to help out Ainz. Saying things like "learning about his magic" and "useful knowledge" probably meaning he wanted to teach Ainz. Or at least that's how he had interpreted it.

That of course had not been the last time they had crossed paths, but that was not relevant for the present. Because as he had lost himself in thought Ainz had arrived to his destination, where one of the homunculus maids opened the door for him.

"He is waiting for you inside, Ainz-sama," spoke the maid as Ainz nodded to her in acknowledgement.

Once inside the room Ainz saw him, dressed in full armor and sporting a great green cape.

"Hello Doom, nice to see you."

"Greetings Gown, It has been a long time."

Because no matter how strange of a relationship they had, or how far from ordinary their first meeting was, Ainz was happy to have someone he could call a friend.

AN: CURSE YOU RICHAAAAARDS!

Ahem I mean, another one done, yay!

First of all, I want to apologize to all of you for mangling Doom's character. But don't worry, I can always say it was a Doombot if it comes down to it .

Regardless, I hope you don't feel too disappointed for not having Doom and Ainz enjoy a long, super hammy, conversation. I both didn't feel I was up to writing it, not did I think it would fit with the pacing of the story. Now I'm done with my rambling and you can hang/lynch me without guilt for my mangling of Doom. I have already accepted my destiny.