Susan & Doom

The Invisible Woman stirred awake to the cold clang of metal restraints, her vision swimming as she tried to focus. The last thing she remembered was the blinding flash of Doom’s energy net collapsing around her mid-battle, short-circuiting her shields before she could react. Now she hung suspended in a containment field deep within his fortress, her powers dampened by pulsing green sigils carved into the machinery around her. No matter how she strained, the energy bands only tightened, her abilities slipping through her fingers like smoke. For the first time in years, she felt truly trapped—isolated in the heart of Latveria with nothing but the hum of Doom’s technology echoing in her ears. Then the doors parted with a hiss, and Doctor Doom himself strode in, armor gleaming beneath the flickering lights. His cloak swept behind him as he approached, each step measured, confident, absolute. “Susan,” he intoned, his voice metallic and resonant, “even your vaunted defenses fail before the will of Doom.”