If you could erase one thing from existence in 2025, what would it be?
I remember seeing that question in a YouTube short just a few hours before I died. I didn't bother answering. Not because I didn't have anything to say, but because I had too much to say.
There were too many things that needed to change. Too many corrupt systems that deserved to burn. Way too many people who needed a slap hard enough to snap them out of their blind, smug idiocy.
It hurt to think about. It hurts even more thinking about what humanity could've achieved by now if we weren't so damn determined to sabotage ourselves at every opportunity.
We should be among the stars by now. Exploring galaxies. Living in harmony. But instead? We're choking on our own greed and stupidity.
I've read the stories. Many probably have too.
Like the one where an inventor builds an engine that runs without oil—only to 'accidentally' die days later.
Or Nikola Tesla, the man who tried to gift the world free wireless electricity through his Wardenclyffe Tower. Free energy transmitted through the air. Just think about that.
But when J.P. Morgan, his rich-ass financier, realized there was no way to monetize it, he pulled the plug. Literally.
No more funding. No more tower. No more dream. Tesla died broke, alone, and forgotten for decades, while the world worshipped Edison like he was some kind of messiah.
It's always the same. People with world-changing ideas? Silenced. Buried. Forgotten. Because their brilliance threatened someone else's profit margin.
And that's just scratching the surface.
We've got cops who are supposed to protect us shooting unarmed civilians in the streets.
Politicians treating their nations like poker chips in some twisted game of power. The rich get richer. The poor get poorer. Compassion? Dead. Empathy? Mocked. Morality? A punchline.
And if you're someone dealing with ADHD, anxiety, and depression? You're not just crushed by the system. You're cooked.
Especially if you're a man. Let's be honest—show a little emotion and you're called weak. Cry? You're a joke. Try talking about how lost you feel? Then you're not a 'real man,' apparently.
So yeah, I fought through all of that. Alone. No family. No lover. No kids. I wanted those things—God, I craved them. A wife. Children. Laughter in a house that felt like home.
But that's just a fantasy in 2025. Nowadays, everyone's 'independent.' No one needs anyone. Love is transactional. Connection? A myth.
And then... before I could even start untangling the mess that was my life, it happened.
I died.
Ironically. Stupidly. Painfully.
I was riding my bike. Slow. Relaxed. Vibing to the world around me for once. And then—BAM. Some idiot in a car, probably watching TikToks or texting their situationship, didn't see me. Next thing I knew, I was airborne. Off a bridge.
Funny how people say your life flashes before your eyes. It's true. I saw it all—my childhood dreams, the anime that gave me hope, the fanfics that helped me breathe, the songs that made the darkness a little easier to bear.
Those were the only things keeping me from ending it myself.
Guess fate decided to take the choice out of my hands. Because when I woke up… it wasn't in a hospital. Or the afterlife.
It was somewhere else.
And not just that—I wasn't even me anymore.
I woke up as Doctor Doom.
Yeah. Let that sink in.
I still don't fully get it. Somehow, my soul—or consciousness, or whatever—just hopped across the multiverse and crashed into the body of one of the most dangerous men in existence.
How did I even take control of his body? His mind? No idea. I shouldn't be able to. Not logically. Not spiritually. Doom's will is supposed to be indomitable—especially compared to who I was before I died.
But here I am.
And this isn't some young, inexperienced Doom either. This version is already deep into his journey—smarter than anyone has a right to be, dangerously powerful, and just about to seize control of Latveria.
Magic? Mastered. Science? He could build a particle collider in his sleep. And me? I got it all. His memories, his skills, his instincts—every fragment of his life, from the moment he was in the womb to the day I woke up.
I remember being born as him. I remember growing up in a Romani village. Studying both sorcery and physics. I remember pain and pride, hatred and ambition.
It's like our memories fused. And it's not just memories—some of his personality is in me now. Or maybe I'm just changing, seeing things from someone else's point of view. I don't know.
My ADHD clashing with his paranoia creates a hell of a mental mess. I can barely tell where I end and he begins.
But somehow, I'm functioning. And that's terrifying in its own way.
In less than a day, I was walking around Doom's castle like I'd always lived there—which, technically, I had. No one suspected a thing. Larin, rebels, machines—they all treated me like him. I even had time to poke at the weirdest part of all this...
The Chat.
Yeah, capital C. The moment I saw it, I got chills.
Because I've read too many fanfics—especially Chinese ones—not to be suspicious. You know the ones. Systems that give you powers but secretly want to take your body. Or turn you into some puppet.
But this one... it didn't feel like that. At least not yet. Its function was simple. It's called the Multiverse Chat. Just like the name says—it connects people across different universes.
So far, only four members. Including me.
I haven't opened it yet. Not properly. My attention has been elsewhere. Because today is a big day.
It's the day Doctor Doom is supposed to take over Latveria.
After organizing rebels, engaging in skirmishes with the king's forces, and building momentum—today is when the full assault begins.
Truth be told, taking down the king isn't the hard part. What comes after is. That's where the real danger lies.
I haven't read every Marvel comic, but I've watched nearly all the movies up to Endgame and read more fanfics than I can count. Enough to know this world? It's not just the MCU.
It's… different. A weird hybrid mashup of comics and movies. Some originality thrown in too. Honestly? It's a mess.
But that doesn't matter. What matters is this:
Mutants exist.
The Avengers are already active—and stronger than their movie versions, from what I've gathered.
Fantastic Four? Also active. Reed Richards, the so-called most intelligent human? I've already had multiple encounters with him as a classmate.
Countries like Sokovia and Symkaria are real. Wakanda and Atlantis probably are too. Maybe even more.
Once I take Latveria, you can bet your ass America will come knocking—talking about "freedom" and "democracy," while preparing to stomp us into the ground.
And of course, let's not forget the noble, self-righteous heroes. The Avengers. The Fantastic Four. All of them will come—masks on, fists raised, ready to "liberate" my people.
The only thing I'm thankful for in this reality is that it isn't as nonsensical and insane as 616. Many heroes are still just getting started.
---
"Hey, let me talk to Victor—it's me, Valeria. I said let me in!"
My thoughts were interrupted by a voice I recognized immediately. One of the few people who ever held a place in the original Victor's heart. She didn't deserve the ending she got.
The ones stopping her must be the Doombots. I'd programmed them not to let anyone disturb me. After all, getting caught talking to thin air wouldn't exactly inspire confidence.
This encounter was already different from how it happened in the comics. She should've arrived earlier. Just one of many ways this version of the world is original.
I stepped outside and saw her—Valeria. Dark-haired, cloaked in a sleeveless robe and cape, her body showing lean muscle instead of delicate curves. Life as a nomad had clearly been hard on her.
When she saw me, her eyes lit up—relieved, maybe, to finally find someone she could turn to. "Victor. You're finally here."
We'd met many times before. The most recent was years ago, when I chose Tibet over her.
In the comics, this was the moment she came to see what kind of man I had become. But Doom had already moved on. He pitied her—then asked Larin to escort her away.
"Valeria," I said, waving the Doombots away. "It's been a long time."
She hadn't expected that response. Understandably so. I'd spread holograms of myself crushing the king's army, and my reputation was at an all-time high. I should've appeared cold.
But I'm Doom now. And not Doom. I won't crush the people who care about me just because of some grand destiny. I aim to stand above destiny—not let it dictate my life.
She looked at me awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. Finally, she sighed. "You've changed, Victor."
I nodded. "Indeed. I'm not the man you once knew, Valeria. But you're not the same woman either."
She looked hurt. Judging me. Like a disappointed ex who still hadn't gotten over it. I didn't like that.
I walked closer. "You didn't come all this way just to see if I'd changed. Hoping I'd be the same man you remember, right?"
She didn't flinch. Women and their sixth sense. She'd finished her judgment. "So you left me… for this armor?"
The mention of armor made me recall her original fate—being turned into one. One of Doom's most inconsistent choices. Completely out of character.
I remember clearly: in the issue just before that, a Celestial offered Doom immense power—and he refused. He wanted to reach that level on his own.
Yet in the next issue, he accepted power from the Haazareth Three in exchange for Valeria's soul? That same Doom, who hates demons with a passion and has pride brighter than the sun? Serving demons?
Nonsense.
Not something I would ever do. I wouldn't even strike a deal with Mephisto. As for Valeria—she was hoping for a reason. An explanation. As absurd as it may sound, she wanted to believe I had a reason for leaving.
From the moment I inherited Doom's memories—his feelings, the ones tied to her—she was mine.
So I bent a little. Shamelessly.
"I didn't abandon you, Valeria," I said. "I went out there to find power—power to free our home. And now, I'm back."
END OF THE CHAPTER
I don't know, I originally planned to stack up some chapters but feel I was wasting my time so and that who may read something like this that feel a little cringe so, I just published the first chapter, if you do thing it have some potential, let a comment plus a Power Stones preferably to let me know.