The beginning
**MY POV**
I’m known as LoneWolfAuthor, and I keep that name for a reason—not because I’m some cliché alpha male. I’m simply a loner who enjoys the quiet of solitude. Honestly, it’s far better than engaging in mindless chatter with anyone else.
Lately, I’ve been churning out a single pretty terrible story to bait Shitiro fans; my mind feels like it’s filled with brain rot. This one’s just bait, really. A fun attempt to lure out the toxic fans.
I might regret writing this later, but at this point, my thoughts feel foggy, and clarity eludes me.
Suddenly, a wave of fatigue washed over me, and my body felt heavy.
I collapsed onto my bed, succumbing to the overwhelming urge to sleep. I figured I should probably see a doctor tomorrow.
**Zzz...**
******
A frown creased a face that looked all too familiar.
“Ugh!”
I shot upright, instinctively checking my chest with trembling hands, eyes wide with shock.
*What the—!?*
The surprise shifted to confusion as I realized everything felt normal with my body. A deep frown settled on my brow.
*What’s happening? I remember feeling this overwhelming sleepiness before I drifted off... Ugh... This is strange. Am I coming down with something?*
“Wait! Something feels off…”
At that moment, I noticed my hands looked different.
“What? I don’t remember having hands this rough!”
“Furthermore, why do my palms feel like stone? I didn’t do anything to make them feel this strong!”
My first instinct was to check on my younger brother.
*What the hell? I can’t recall ever having a package this magnificent! Dear brother, how did you grow up to be so well-endowed in single night?*
“This is bizarre… Hmm... What happened to my voice?”
*I don’t remember ever having such a deep, intimidating voice!*
Suddenly, I became aware that I was in an unfamiliar, lavish room.
*This place is luxurious… Where the hell am I?*
Just then, my gaze fell upon a full-length mirror mounted on the nearby wall.
I stood up quickly and approached it, heart racing.
When I caught sight of my reflection, I was met with the face of a man in his twenties. The frown etched on my face only added to my icy demeanor, making me appear even more menacing. The word “villain” practically screamed from my image. I had dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes.
*What the hell! This dark brown hair, these eyes… And this intimidating face! Is this… Victor von Doom?*
I saw this similar face in recent comics.
Shock coursed through my mind, though my expression remained fierce and cold.
I examined myself multiple times, growing increasingly astonished with each passing second.
“This body moves like it’s mine, and I don’t feel any pain…”
Then, a thought struck me:
*Did I transmigrate into this body?*
*(LoneWolfAuthor has become a young Victor von Doom, with a strikingly handsome face yet a menacing presence. After falling asleep, he awakens in a lavish royal room.)*
---
**Shirou’s Dream:**
(Shirou POV)
Shirou opened his eyes, but his surroundings were wrong. Dark. Confined. His body felt stiff, immobile. Looking down, he realized he was tied to a chair, thick ropes binding him tightly, restricting his every movement. He tried to move his arms—nothing. His legs—still nothing. Panic surged through him as his gaze darted around the dimly lit room.
*What is this? Where am I?*
Before he could make sense of it, his eyes landed on a sight that froze his blood. There, across the room, he saw Rin Tohsaka and Sakura Matou, their naked forms moving with a grace that seemed almost ethereal, his childhood friends. But something was wrong—terribly wrong. They weren’t looking at him. They were clinging to another figure, a young man with Jet-black Hair and a strikingly Handsome face. He didn’t recognize him, but it didn’t matter. Rin’s fiery hair cascaded down her back, framing a face that was usually stern and focused. Now, it was soft, flushed with passion, as she gazed up at the stranger with a look that was disturbingly intimate. Sakura’s eyes, normally filled with innocence, were glazed over with lust, her lips parted in silent moans. They were engaged in a dance of desire that seemed to defy the very fabric of their friendship
*Who the hell is that?*
The stranger’s hands roamed over their bodies, claiming them as if they belonged to him. His touch was firm, yet tender, eliciting whimpers from both girls that seemed to resonate within Shirou’s very soul. He felt a pang of jealousy, a feeling so raw and primal it was almost tangible. Rin and Sakura were his—his friends, his confidants,
*No,* he thought, *No... this isn’t real. This can’t be real!*
Shirou's stomach churned. His eyes widened in disbelief as The stranger, though Shirou didn’t know his name yet—whispered something in Rin’s ear, making her giggle, She smiled at him—*a smile she’d never shown Shirou*. His heart sank, a painful knot forming in his chest and she turned to Sakura. The two of them shared a knowing look that made Shirou’s stomach twist in a way he’d never felt before. Rin’s hand slid down the stranger’s chest, grabbing his erect manhood firmly. It was a gesture so familiar, so intimate, that it stung like a slap across the face. He watched in horror as Sakura followed suit, her delicate hand wrapping around the thick length of the man’s cock, her eyes never leaving his
He tried to call out, to shout, to demand an explanation, but no sound escaped his lips. His voice—his own voice—betrayed him. His throat was dry, his vocal cords locked. He struggled harder, the ropes digging into his skin, but the more he fought, the more powerless he felt. Their movements grew more urgent, their bodies moving in a rhythm that spoke of experience and need. The stranger’s hands roamed over their curves, squeezing and caressing, drawing gasps and moans from both. Shirou felt his own arousal stir, despite his panic and anger, and he hated himself for it. This wasn’t what he wanted—this wasn’t what any of them should be doing. But the scene before him was like a twisted painting that he couldn’t tear his eyes from, no matter how much it hurt.
*What’s going on?! Rin… Sakura… why?*
Then, as if to drive the knife deeper, he saw Rin’s hand slid down the stranger’s body, gripping his cock with surprising strength. The man groaned in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as she began to stroke him in a way that was both familiar and alien to Shirou. He had never seen Rin like this before—so wanton, so desperate for release. And Sakura... she watched with rapt attention, her own breathing quickening as she took in the sight. Shirou felt a strange mix of anger and arousal, his thoughts a tumultuous storm of confusion and betrayal. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. *No, no, no...*
The stranger’s hand slipped between Rin’s thighs, his fingers moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had her hips jerking forward. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she bit down on her lower lip to muffle her cries. Sakura’s hand mirrored the movement, reaching for the man’s cock again. She stroked it with the same intensity, her cheeks flushed and her eyes never leaving Rin’s face. The room grew hotter, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.
Shirou’s eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for a way out. *This isn’t real, it can’t be real.* But the pain in his chest said otherwise. The sight of the man’s hands on Rin, the sounds of their muffled cries, the way their bodies moved together—it all felt too vivid, too real.
The stranger’s hands began to wander, exploring Rin’s breasts and squeezing them roughly, eliciting gasps from her. Sakura watched, her eyes transfixed on the scene, and Shirou could see the longing in her gaze. She wanted it too. She wanted this man who was not him. The betrayal stung like a freshly opened wound, each new touch, each new caress, a twist of the knife.
*This isn’t happening… this isn’t happening!*
His mind screamed, but the scene only grew worse. The man, leaned down, capturing Rin’s mouth in a passionate kiss that seemed to go on forever. Sakura watched, her eyes half-closed in envy, her cheeks flushed with desire. Shirou felt his own jealousy flare up—how could they do this to him? How could they be with someone else when they were supposed to be his friends?
Rin’s hand slipped down to stranger’s cock again, stroking it with a familiarity that made Shirou’s blood boil. He watched, horrified, as Sakura’s hand joined hers, both of them working in unison, driving the man closer to climax. The stranger’s hands roamed over their bodies, cupping their breasts, teasing their nipples, as they moaned into their mouths. It was a sight that burned itself into Shirou’s brain—one he never wanted to see, but couldn’t look away from.
The stranger finally broke the kiss, panting heavily. He looked down at the two girls with a hunger that sent a shiver down Shirou’s spine. Rin and Sakura looked up at him with a mix of adoration and desire that was almost painful to witness. The man’s eyes raked over their bodies, and with a low growl, he picked Sakura up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her wet pussy pressing against his abs as she eagerly kissed him.
Rin stepped aside, her eyes never leaving the couple. She reached for the man’s cock, stroking it with a practiced hand that seemed to speak of a history between them that Shirou knew nothing about. The stranger’s eyes grew darker, more intense, as he kissed Sakura harder. He reached down, his hand caressing her ass before sliding to the juncture of her thighs. Shirou watched, his heart hammering, as Rin positioned him at Sakura’s entrance.
With a gentle push, the man’s cock slid inside her. Sakura’s eyes shot open, and she let out a high-pitched cry of pleasure. Rin watched them, a smile playing on her lips as she continued to stroke the man’s shaft, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The sight of them together, of Sakura’s body shuddering around the stranger’s cock, was too much for Shirou to bear.
Shirou’s chest felt like it was going to explode. His breath hitched. His world crumbled.
With a jolt, Shirou snapped awake, his body lurching forward in his seat. His heart raced wildly, his skin clammy with sweat. For a moment, he sat there, disoriented, his breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps as the remnants of the nightmare clung to him.
His surroundings slowly came into focus—the dim, quiet interior of the airplane. The hum of the engines. The soft murmur of distant voices. He wasn’t tied up. He wasn’t helpless. And Rin and Sakura… *that was just a dream. A nightmare.*
But the hollow ache in his chest didn’t subside. He wiped his forehead, still shaken, his hands trembling slightly as the images of Rin and Sakura—his childhood friends—embracing someone else replayed in his mind.
*Why would I dream something like that? Why did it feel so real?*
His brow furrowed, confusion swirling with the lingering dread. He clenched his fists tightly in his lap, trying to shake off the bitter emotions the dream had stirred. A wave of nausea hit him, and for a moment, he felt sick, remembering the look in Sakura’s eyes… the lust.
*No. This isn’t right. They’d never… they wouldn’t…*
Shirou shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. But the pit in his stomach wouldn’t go away. He had always been the one to protect them. Ever since that night when his family was taken from him, he had sworn to protect those he cared about. Rin. Sakura. And yet, in that dream, he had been powerless—silent. Watching as they were pulled away from him by someone he didn’t even know.
It wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear. Fear of losing them.
*But it was just a dream... right?*
Shirou leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, though the knot in his chest remained. He tried to steady his breathing, but the sensation of helplessness from the dream clung to him like a shadow.
*Why does it still feel so real?*
As Shirou slowly came to his senses, the soft sound of footsteps approached him. He blinked a few times, his mind still racing from the unsettling dream, before seeing two familiar figures standing beside his seat—Rin and Sakura.
Sakura leaned in first, her expression filled with concern, her soft violet eyes searching his face. “Senpai... are you alright?” she asked, her voice quiet but full of worry. “You look pale. Did you have a bad dream?”
Shirou hesitated, still feeling the weight of the dream pressing on his chest. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped short. *There’s no way I could tell her about that dream.* He forced a small smile, trying to push the dark thoughts away.
“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice strained. “It was just a nightmare… nothing to worry about.” He avoided eye contact, trying not to think about the disturbing images of Rin and Sakura with that mysterious boy.
Sakura frowned, clearly not convinced, but before she could say anything more, Rin’s voice cut through the moment.
“Well, whatever it was, you’d better get over it soon, Shirou,” Rin said, crossing her arms and giving him a stern look. “We’re only a few hours away from Antarctica, and we’ll be at the *Nouvelle Chaldea* base soon.” Her tone was sharp and focused, with none of her usual teasing or casual sarcasm.
Shirou blinked, still adjusting. “*Nouvelle Chaldea*?”
Rin sighed, clearly frustrated. “*You really didn’t pay attention during the briefing, did you?*” she muttered, shaking her head. “Honestly, Shirou, how do you always manage to get involved in these things without understanding anything?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, her frustration mounting.
“We’re about to meet some of the strongest mages from around the world,” Rin continued, her voice serious. “Japan only sent us because there aren’t any other mages left capable of participating in Rayshifting. *No pressure,* right?” She gave a sarcastic huff, but her eyes were deadly serious. “So don’t embarrass us in front of the other nations’ mages. This is no joke.”
Shirou nodded quickly, still trying to shake off the lingering remnants of the dream. “I get it, Rin. I’ll be ready.”
Rin, however, wasn’t done. “No, Shirou, you don’t get it. You’ve got to be at your best. If something goes wrong, we’ll be dealing with more than just the embarrassment—our entire mission could be compromised.” Her sharp gaze bore into him, and he could feel the weight of her expectations. “This isn’t a fight where you can just rush in and fix things with brute force. We’re dealing with Rayshifts, mages from other nations, and if we mess up, there’s no second chance.”
Shirou could feel Rin’s frustration, but underneath that was a deep sense of responsibility. She wasn’t scolding him just to be harsh—she wanted him to understand the gravity of the situation. Shirou clenched his fists, resolving to focus. He’d been through worse situations before. He wasn’t going to let them down.
Sakura, who had remained quiet during Rin’s scolding, finally spoke up, her voice gentle but firm. “Senpai… please don’t push yourself too hard,” she said, her concern for him clear in her tone. “We’ll be alright as long as we work together.”
Shirou looked at Sakura and gave her a nod. “Yeah. I’ll do my best, Sakura.” He felt a bit of relief in her soft words, but Rin quickly brought them back to the task at hand.
“You better,” Rin muttered. “I didn’t drag you into this whole mess just to have you trip up at the last moment. So don’t get distracted, especially not by any weird dreams.” She glanced at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if she could sense that there was more he wasn’t telling her.
Shirou avoided Rin’s gaze, his thoughts drifting back to the strange nightmare, but quickly snapped himself out of it. *Focus, Shirou. This isn’t the time to get lost in your own head.*
Far from where Shirou, Rin, and Sakura sat, in a secluded room within the specially arranged plane, a faint shimmer broke the dimly lit air. The quiet hum of the aircraft was all that could be heard, but hidden from all sight was a radiant figure. Standing gracefully, she appeared almost otherworldly—**Lady Avalon**. Her presence was ethereal, as if she were a being not entirely bound to this world.
Her long, flowing silver hair cascaded down her back like strands of moonlight, catching the soft light of the cabin. Her eyes, a deep azure, held an ancient wisdom, cold yet burning with purpose. She wore an elegant, flowing white gown adorned with intricate golden embroidery, symbols of protection and mysticism that seemed to shimmer with their own light. Her beauty was striking, serene, yet distant, as if she belonged to a world far removed from the affairs of humans.
Despite the serenity of her appearance, there was a sharpness to her expression, an unspoken authority that made it clear she was not just a passive observer.
She gazed out through the walls of her hidden space, watching over the young man with whom she had bonded so long ago. Her lips curved into a slight smile, but her eyes remained cold.
“I am here of my own accord, to watch over the master I bonded with,” she murmured softly, her voice like a gentle breeze in the stillness of the room. "I've always considered myself an outsider—alien to human society and its fleeting emotions. Yet, in this situation, it all feels like more of my business than usual."
Her eyes glimmered as she recalled the grander purpose she was bound to. Her connection to **Ritsuka Fujimaru** ran deep, tied through dimensions and purposes far beyond the understanding of those around them. Yet, now it seemed another had been thrust into the folds of fate.
“You’ve chosen, haven’t you? Corrupted heavens favourable child,” she whispered darkly, her voice growing sharper with resolve. "Chosen to twist the dreams of that boy, to destroy his will so that he might fail… fail in his duty to save the world. You plan to break him, don't you? So of course, I came. I came to save my master and to destroy you."
Lady Avalon’s smile widened, the cold certainty of her mission settling into her heart.
"Yes… *they* said something similar, didn’t they? Something about sacrificing for the greater good." She chuckled, the sound both melodic and menacing. "But for the ‘greater good,’ it will be *your* life that will be sacrificed, fufu~."
She turned her gaze back toward the room where Shirou sat, still unaware of the seed of doubt she had planted in his heart.
“It seems that this world, somehow, has brought another person to save itself and Ritsuka one last time. What an amusing twist of fate.” Her voice took on a mocking tone, as if amused by the very idea of relying on someone else. "Let's see how this one plans to save Ritsuka… and this world. It should be interesting."
Lady Avalon raised a delicate hand, the light shimmering around her fingers. Her thoughts drifted to her secret group—those who existed to ensure balance in the cosmos, those who watched over the machinations of fate.
"I suppose I should inform my secret group of this development. After all, even the smallest disruptions must be managed carefully."
With a final glance toward Shirou’s room, Lady Avalon’s form shimmered once more, the light bending and warping around her. In the blink of an eye, she disappeared, vanishing without a trace, leaving no evidence of her presence. All of this had happened without anyone on board ever noticing her.
The seed of doubt, however, had been planted. Shirou’s dream—twisted and disturbing—was her doing. And it was only the beginning.
It was his sin to destroy the world. Even if he doesn't know.
---
[Doom's POV]
**50 Minutes Later**
No matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I’ve become Doom. Does this mean I’ve entered the Marvel world?
Wait, something feels off…
I approached the window, and what I saw made my jaw drop.
I was on a private airplane belonging to Doom!
So, this luxurious room was actually on an airplane all along.
*Wait, this is impossible. A young Doom shouldn’t be a rich kid! He should be working his ass off with Reed and later suffer an accident that would damage his face!*
*Maybe I’m in a “What If” scenario involving Doom?*
I sank back onto my royal bed, deep in thought.
Suddenly, an idea sparked in my mind.
*Wait! If this is an isekai world, do I have a status window like in those isekai novels?*
With a surge of anticipation, I focused on confirming my doubts.
---
**
**
**Name:** Victor Von Doom
**Title:** Prince of Latveria, Master of Sorcery, Genius Inventor
**Level:** 99
**Class:** Archmage / Technomancer
**HP:** 10,000 / 10,000
**MP:** 8,000 / 8,000
**Stamina:** 6,000 / 6,000
---
**Attributes:**
**Strength:** 85
**Dexterity:** 75
**Constitution:** 90
**Intelligence:** 100
**Wisdom:** 95
**Charisma:** 80
---
**[Passive Skills: Sharp Mind]**
**[Personality Traits: Cold, Arrogant, Ruthless, Fearless]**
---
**Skills:**
- **Sorcery Mastery (A+):** Supreme control over arcane magic, capable of manipulating elemental forces and casting powerful spells.
- **Technomancy (A):** Expertise in merging technology and magic, enabling the creation of advanced weaponry and devices.
- **Genius Intellect (S):** Exceptional intelligence and problem-solving ability; can devise complex inventions and outsmart opponents.
- **Leadership (A):** Charismatic leader; able to inspire and command loyalty from followers.
- **Armor of Doom (A+):** Ability to create enhanced armor that boosts defense and grants various technological enhancements.
---
**Abilities:**
- **Magic Shielding:** Generates a powerful barrier that absorbs magical attacks.
- **Teleportation:** Instantly travels across vast distances using arcane energies.
- **Mind Control:** Temporarily bends weaker minds to his will.
- **Dimensional Manipulation:** Opens portals to other dimensions or realities.
- **Soul Drain:** Absorbs the life force of enemies to replenish health.
---
**Equipment:**
- **Doomsday Armor:** A highly advanced battle suit that enhances physical capabilities and offers protection against all forms of damage. Can be summoned at will.
- **The Green Goblet:** A powerful artifact that boosts magical abilities and grants temporary invulnerability.
- **Doom's Tome of Shadows:** A grimoire filled with ancient spells and dark knowledge.
---
**Affiliations:**
- **Latveria:** Prince of the sovereign nation.
---
**[Shop] [Credit Points: 100]**
Staring at my status, I rubbed my forehead to ease the throbbing headache.
*Ugh! THIS IS GIGACHAD! I’ve got the body of a final boss. And what are these ridiculous stats? No wonder Doom is considered one of the best characters in this world!*
I love this—it's better than my past life.
But wait… I don’t have any memories of this body. How can I even use these skills in the first place?
I raised my hand, trying to conjure a small fire in my palm, but nothing happened.
*Let’s see if there’s anything helpful in the shop…* I thought, a hint of frustration creeping in.
---
**
**
**[Credit Points: 100]**
**[Purchasable Items:]**
- **[Newbie Exclusive Pack: 100 Cp]**
- **[???]**
- **[???]**
---
“What is going on? All the other items are greyed out! I can’t even see them, and the only thing available is this ‘Newbie Pack’,” I muttered, confusion flickering across my face.
*What is this ‘Newbie Pack’?* I wondered.
*Moreover, I can’t see many other functions either…*
*Is it because of my skill issue that I can’t access them? Wait—does that mean I can become stronger than I am now in the future?*
Surprised by this revelation, I contemplated my options for a moment before deciding to put this matter on hold.
*Should I buy this Newbie Pack? Well, it’s not like I have many other choices right now…*
After a brief hesitation, I selected the ‘Newbie Exclusive Pack’ and confirmed my purchase.
---
**[Are you sure you want to purchase the ‘Newbie Exclusive Pack’?]**
**[Yes or No]**
“Yes,” I pressed the confirmation.
---
**[Congratulations! You got the ‘Newbie Exclusive Pack’!]**
**[Opening the pack…]**
**[You get the following items…]**
1. **Can ask any 3 Questions (Advanced)**
2. **Memory Card of Prince Victor Von Doom**
3. **Memory Card of (All abilities and fighting skills experience)**
**[Inventory function has been opened… All items have been stored in the inventory.]**
---
A chilling smile spread across my face as I surveyed the contents of the pack.
“Good. Now I will truly become Doom. I’ll save those questions for later, though. With my intelligence, I will surely discover what’s happening in this world and why it refers to me as Prince.”
I decided to access the second and third options to utilize the memory and battle experience first.
---
**[Are you sure you want to use the ‘Memory Card of Prince Victor Von Doom and his battle experience’?]**
**[Yes or No]**
“Yes.”
---
At my agreement, a torrent of memories surged into my mind. The sheer volume overwhelmed me; it felt as if my head might burst from the intensity. Pain radiated through my skull, but I remained silent, my body refusing to scream or flinch.
---
**[Ding! The personality trait ‘Arrogant’ is activated! The user cannot show weakness and must maintain an arrogant demeanor!]**
The pain was excruciating, yet the trait embedded in my psyche kept me from voicing my torment. No one outside this room could perceive my silent agony.
After what felt like an eternity, the rush of memories subsided, and the pain finally began to fade. I took a deep breath, regaining my composure.
“Ha! I understand everything!” I exclaimed, the revelation dawning upon me.
*I’m in the alternate Fate/Grand Order world!*
I am Victor von Doom, the rightful Prince of Latveria, destined to reclaim my throne. My family's legacy, intertwined with unparalleled mastery of both technology and magic, demands respect and fear from all. As the only heir of Werner and Cynthia von Doom, I am prepared to elevate Latveria to unimaginable heights.
The Mage's Association has always viewed us as a threat. Our disregard for their outdated regulations and our ability to meld magic with technology puts us at odds with their primitive ideology. They fear us for a reason—our lineage is powerful, and our intellect is unmatched.
The True Church, with its fanatical dogma, has long stood against us. Their delusions of divinity crumble before the cold, hard reality of power. We have turned their authority into a joke. And the Einzberns? Their bloodline is extinguished, a fitting end for such a misguided lineage.
“The Tohsaka family? Just scared little insects,” I scoffed. They cower at the mere whisper of the Doom name, wisely keeping their distance from our ambitions.
Then there’s the Clock Tower and the Magi Association, always itching for a confrontation. They know that provoking Latveria would lead to their downfall.
“Annoying bugs,” I sneered, my thoughts drifting toward the failures of those who had previously attempted to destroy this world.
Humanity has faced annihilation twice—first by Goetia and again during the Lostbelt of the Alien God. But Novum Chaldea emerged, bringing back humanity from the brink. Yet even they could not prevent the enemies who caused everything. To support them every government sent their best mages.
I, Victor von Doom, was among the elite mages dispatched to support Novum Chaldea from my Father orders.
Now, I understand the gravity of that choice—Ritsuka Fujimaru, the boy who has saved this world repeatedly, has endured trial after trial. Five ordeal calls have tested him, yet something doesn’t add up.
*I need answers.*
---
I opened my shop inventory and selected the option for my advanced questions, ready to uncover the truth.
---
**[Are you sure you want to use ‘3 Questions (Advanced)’?]**
**[Yes or No]**
“Yes.”
---
“Explain briefly what has happened and why. I want full details.”
---
The response was both shocking and enraging.
---
**[Every world should be saved by Ritsuka Fujimaru. It is a canon event blessed by the heavens and the world. However, in this universe, while the world still supports Ritsuka, the heavens do not—having been corrupted.]**
**[Ritsuka Fujimaru has been abandoned by the heavens. In his place, they have chosen Shirou Emiya, a so-called 'favored child' of these corrupted heavens. His plot armor shields him, allowing him to act without consequence, even with actions that border on the monstrous.]**
**[Shirou Emiya is portrayed as a hero, but he is nothing more than a pawn, a puppet driven by this corrupt plot. His vile actions—taking women and bending their wills through narrative manipulation—are overlooked, as the heavens themselves favor him. The women who once loved Ritsuka Fujimaru are forced away, unknowingly manipulated to betray him, even though they loved Ritsuka purely with THEIR heart but the Plot changed them forcing and manipulating them to do without them knowing why.]**
---
Rage simmered within me as I processed this information. Ritsuka, the boy who saved the world *twice*, now cast aside by the very heavens he served.
Worse, this *Shirou Emiya* is nothing but a tool for corruption, a rapist cloaked in absurd plot armor. Even the protagonists of Chinese novels exhibit more decency.
[Host was transmitted to this world. You are in a NTR world. Ritsuka Fujimaru will face the ntr by Shirou Emiya, and few other Masters who will reach Novum Chaldea.]
[even if everyone betrayed Ritsuka, he still tried to save the world but will failed in future. But Kama, Tiamat, Draco, Kiara, BB and BB Dubai are able to save Ritsuka fujimaru and kept him in a loop of pocket dimension in moon cancer and they also erased his memories to make him live happily. Those servants and few more didn't get effected by Plot or Corrupted Heavens.]
**[By breaking Ritsuka mentally, this world loses hope, making it easier to corrupt. The world itself chose you, Victor von Doom, as its champion. You carry the responsibility of saving Ritsuka Fujimaru—and with him, the world.]**
---
Me? Chosen by this *world*?
---
**[The laws of this world, and even the will of the heavens, have been corrupted. You must not trust the will of heaven; it will deceive you. The corruption has reached the very core of this existence, and only by defending the present can you safeguard the future.]**
---
I clenched my fists, the weight of my mission settling over me. To think that the heavens themselves had succumbed to corruption, and that I had been thrust into this mess to clean it up. Doom bows to no one—not even to the heavens.
But if saving Ritsuka is the key to eradicating this corruption, then I shall do it. Shirou Emiya, a man shielded by narrative manipulation, will feel my wrath. Plot armor or not, I am Doom, and no script can bind me.
“I will save Ritsuka Fujimaru from this fate,” I declared, my voice cold and resolute. “And I will dismantle these corrupted heavens with my own hands.”
Doom stood silent for a moment, cooling his mind. This was no mere predicament; this was a battle against an insidious force that sought to consume not just the world but the very essence of existence itself.
"The second question," Doom said, his voice steady but laced with determination. "What is *that* thing, the one that even corrupted the heavens? This is no mere corruption."
[This world may be hopeless, but try to save it…]
[The world is being consumed by the "Endless Sea of Miasma". Miasma is a malevolent force capable of corrupting concepts and reality itself. It turns creatures into demons or absorbs them into its corruption. Even the heavens have succumbed. The Miasma is semi-conscious, adaptive, and now focused on destroying Ritsuka Fujimaru and this world. But earth defence protected this world from sea of Miasama.]
A rare chill crept over Doom as the implications settled in. An endless ocean of malevolence surrounding a fragile bastion of hope. His mind raced with the weight of the revelation: the moment that defense of earth faltered, the flood of Miasma would engulf everything. Creatures moved through life blissfully ignorant of the imminent doom that awaited them.
‘This world is truly hopeless.’
He had thought saving Ritsuka and fortifying him would lead to a glorious resolution. Now, Doom grasped the scale of the threat—an unending war against an infinitely corrupting sea. Ritsuka could vanquish one enemy, yet how many more would emerge? How long could any being withstand a tide of corrupted alien gods and twisted abominations?
‘If this world falls, I fall with it. My soul will be consumed by the Miasma, twisted and tormented for eternity. I would become a mere puppet of the abyss. Worse than death… worse than hell.’
Doom clenched his fist, his resolve hardening. ‘I cannot allow that fate. I will not be corrupted. I must find a way to overcome this, to survive, to prevail, to rule.’
He was not one to succumb easily.
"Now, for my final question," Doom said, his tone icy and unwavering. "Is there a way to stop the Miasma?"
[….]
[NO.]
Doom’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "I am Victor von Doom. Do you believe I will accept such a response? I will save this world, and it will be mine to rule. I will discover a means to halt this corruption."
The weight of responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders. Only he possessed the understanding of the Miasma’s true nature and the destruction it unleashed. The burden of saving this world was his alone, and he would not flinch.
In his mind, Ritsuka Fujimaru was the last bastion of hope—a heroic figure embodying the world’s immune system, valiantly battling against the invasive cancer of corruption. Ritsuka had fought tirelessly, vanquishing foes and fulfilling his duty, yet now he stood abandoned by the heavens. His defeat would signify that the world had succumbed to a malevolence so potent that even its strongest champion had failed.
Doom contemplated the ramifications. The Miasma had disrupted the heavenly favor, favoring a worthless pawn like Shirou Emiya to squander its blessings. This was a travesty; Ritsuka was the true chosen one, the world's hope and savior. The title of "last master" was not merely about being the final one; it recognized Ritsuka's significance to the very fabric of this world.
Doom’s gaze sharpened as he processed the information from the system. "So that’s how it is! Everything falls into place." He recalled his instinctive disdain for Shirou, who had always felt like an imposter, an unworthy contender for the mantle of a hero.
The system's revelations confirmed his suspicions: **"Miasma views Ritsuka Fujimaru as an enemy and must destroy him."** This made Shirou a thief, siphoning Ritsuka’s luck while furthering the plot that would lead to annihilation.
"I must concede," Doom mused, a smirk creeping onto his lips, "I truly underestimated your cunning, Shirou Emiya. A splendid thief you are!" If Ritsuka had been endowed with luck, perhaps he could have turned the tide against the Miasma.
Even after suffering immense loss, Ritsuka continued to fight for the world’s future. "I, Doom, declare that you, Ritsuka Fujimaru, are a great human!"
With clarity illuminating his path, Doom recognized his two critical objectives: to ensure no one betrayed Ritsuka and to discover a way to thwart the Miasma once and for all.
"Shirou Emiya," he thought darkly, "no hard feelings, but your existence only serves to threaten this world. Whether intentional or not, you jeopardize Ritsuka’s happiness. I will ensure you suffer for that, mark my words."
Doom was resolved to defy fate itself, tearing apart the threads of a predetermined narrative and carving a new course. His will was as unyielding, he would achieve his goals, no matter the cost.
Just then, his butler's voice broke through his thoughts. "Young master, we are approaching Antarctica and the Novum Chaldea organization in few hours," Boris Karela announced.
Boris was more than just a servant; he was a stalwart companion willing to sacrifice everything at Doom's command. "I will prepare, Boris," Doom replied as he moved toward the bathroom to refresh himself.
After a quick wash, he donned his dark green royal attire, a striking ensemble that echoed his formidable presence. The coat, lined with gold embroidery, fit him like a second skin, while the regal collar framed his sharp features. The fabric shimmered in the light, reminiscent of a noble warrior ready for battle. The ensemble was completed with tailored trousers and knee-high boots, exuding both elegance and authority.
Standing before the mirror, Doom took in his reflection. His cold, ruthless expression was that of a charming villain, a master of destiny prepared to confront the world.
With renewed purpose, he opened the door to find Boris waiting.
“Boris, it’s time to show the world who I am.”
“Of course, young master,” Boris replied, his eyes filled with unwavering loyalty.
“Yes, I’m not going to hold back this time,” Doom declared, stepping forward with resolve. The world would soon learn the true meaning of power.
****
Standing on the platform of Antarctica, the cold winds brushed against my face, yet they felt insignificant compared to the chill that I carried within. Before me stood the Nouvm Chaldea organization’s base, a beacon of hope for some—though to me, it was merely another player in the ever-turning wheel of power.
As I approached, I noticed the guards, mere men with guns, their resolve wavered as soon as they laid eyes on me. They knew who I was. **Victor von Doom**. Their thoughts and petty concerns were transparent; I could see the fear flicker in their eyes as they questioned whether their weapons could truly stop me if I decided to crush them.
But the real spectacle was Director Goredolf. The man who had risen to lead Chaldea was sweating, his body visibly shaking as I drew nearer. I could see his every weakness, his every fear, like an open book. He greeted me with a smile that barely concealed his anxiety. For a brief moment, I found it amusing.
I stared down at him, letting my ruthless, cold expression hang in the air. It was a look I had perfected over the years, one that told others precisely where they stood before me—beneath my heel. He was no exception.
But then, something changed. His eyes sharpened. Goredolf, the man who seemed ready to crumble under the weight of my presence, suddenly stiffened. He straightened his posture, and his expression shifted into something more commanding, more assertive. His transformation caught me off guard, as well as Boris, my ever-loyal butler. This man, in that brief moment, became a commander—a true leader of Chaldea.
“ Prince Doom,” Goredolf began, his voice steadier than I had anticipated, “I cannot afford to take any risks. The last time Chaldea was attacked, I vowed it would never happen again. Before you proceed any further, I insist that you and your companion undergo a test to ensure you harbor no ill intentions.”
I raised an eyebrow. **Interesting**. This man, who had just moments ago trembled before me, now spoke as if he held any sway over my actions. His sudden change in demeanor intrigued me more than irritated me. Even so, I agreed with a slight nod, though it was not from a place of submission. It was a concession of strategy.
He led us away from the main base to a smaller, more secluded office. It was an appropriate setting for a test, far from the operations of the organization, and likely designed to mitigate any potential damage if things went wrong.
“There are three blocks for this test,” Goredolf explained. “Two of them are already occupied by other mages undergoing the same process. You will take the last block.”
I remained silent as we entered. The guards who accompanied him led us to an AI interface where a mundane system was in charge of the interrogation. The AI’s voice, neutral and cold, announced that one room was currently occupied, but another was available for use.
“I will go first,” I stated.
I entered the room, leaving Boris outside as the doors slid shut behind me. The room was sterile, devoid of life—only the blinking screen of the AI system awaiting my commands.
The AI wasted no time. It began questioning me, but unlike simple human questions, it attempted to manipulate my thoughts. The inquiries were tailored, probing the depths of my mind in a way only a machine could. It asked about my **goals**, my **plans**, and whether I had **intentions** to disrupt Chaldea’s operations.
I answered each question with precision. My responses were concise, offering no room for the AI to attempt further manipulation. These questions, however invasive, were no match for the mental discipline of Doom. I had trained my mind to be impenetrable, even to machines as clever as this.
Once the questioning was over, I stepped out of the room and gestured for Boris to enter next.
I waited in the hallway, my thoughts wandering back to Goredolf. The man had surprised me, not with his test, but with his sudden confidence. How easily fear can be turned into courage when someone believes they hold the upper hand.
I turned my gaze toward the door Boris had entered, wondering if his results would be as predictable as mine. He was loyal, yes, but I had chosen him for more than mere obedience. His calm in the face of uncertainty was a quality I valued. Unlike the cowards who hid behind power, Boris knew his place and served with unwavering devotion. It was rare to find such a man.
As I stood in the cold, sterile hall waiting for Boris to finish his questioning, the door to the first interrogation room slid open. My eyes immediately narrowed as I recognized the figure stepping out—**Rudra Ratan**. The very air seemed to chill further, and not just because of his magical affinity. Rudra, an Indian mage specializing in ice and water magic, was one of the few individuals in the world whose presence I could consider *challenging*.
His black hair, slicked back, contrasted with his piercing yellow eyes, which locked onto mine the moment he emerged. There was no mistaking the glint in his gaze, that same insufferable look of rivalry that had haunted our interactions since university. His gaze, as always, seemed to want to unravel every secret I held—though he never succeeded. No one had, and no one ever would.
We had been rivals for a long time. While I, **Victor von Doom**, mastered the art of fire perfectly, Rudra had perfected ice and water. His talent in those elements even surpassed mine—a fact that I acknowledged, though I'd never utter aloud. Our rivalry, once academic, had spiraled into something far more personal. And now, here we were, on the same path once again.
Rudra’s lips curled into a smirk, the usual condescension and false benevolence dripping from his tone. "It’s been a while, Victor. Don’t get too cocky just because you got a perfect score."
I tilted my head slightly, my cold eyes locking with his. He wanted to provoke me, and I was always more than happy to oblige, though in my own way.
“Humph,” I replied, my voice laced with disdain, “you should worry about your own trashy attitude before speaking to me.”
The calm smile on his face faltered, veins appearing on his forehead as his features twisted in anger. His normally calm demeanor slipped, revealing the frustration I always knew was bubbling beneath the surface.
"The f*ck did you say to me!?" he snapped, his voice rising as his aura flared.
I stared at him coolly, unmoved. "I don’t repeat myself. If someone’s ears aren’t working properly, that’s not my problem."
Rudra’s face contorted further, but his smile turned sinister. “You! Stone face! No way am I going with this guy on this mission! I’d rather die than travel with this stone-faced bast*rd! I want a separate team than be with you in Chaldea.”
I let out a mocking chuckle, as cold and calculated as ever. “Tch. I don’t like being near a ‘trash can’ either. You look like some second-rate school teacher.”
His hands twitched at his side, and for a moment, I almost hoped he would lash out physically. His aura grew heavier as his magical power condensed, the temperature around us dropping rapidly. The man was furious, and it was exactly where I wanted him.
"Who the f*ck are you calling a school teacher?! I am *far* more handsome than a cold-faced statue like you!" Rudra roared.
“Heh,” I scoffed. “The ‘trash can’ is babbling nonsense now.”
Rudra’s eyes gleamed with fury. “You! Let’s duel right now! I’m going to beat the sh*t out of you today!”
“Humph,” I replied, looking him up and down with a bored expression. “I don’t feel like dirtying my suit with your blood today. Maybe another time, if you’re still standing.”
Just then, an authoritative voice cut through the tension. "Silence, you two! You're supposed to be mages! Stop acting like children!"
I turned my head slightly to see none other than **Rin Tohsaka**, standing tall with her arms crossed, her sharp eyes glaring at the both of us. Behind her stood **Shirou Emiya** and **Sakura Matou**, watching with looks of exasperation. Typical of them to intervene in things that did not concern them.
Rin’s eyes flickered to me, and for a moment, I could see the shift in her demeanor. The bravado she had shown when calling us out wavered under my icy gaze. I had no need for words; my mere presence was enough to silence most opposition. The air felt heavier, the pressure of my aura weighing down on them. Shirou and Sakura tensed visibly, while Rin’s face, for a brief moment, betrayed her unease.
“Don’t bother,” I said, turning away from them. "Your words are as insignificant as your presence."
The tension between us hung in the air for a moment longer before Boris emerged from the interrogation room, his expression as calm and composed as always. Without acknowledging Rin or her companions, I simply gestured to Boris, and we turned to leave.
Rudra followed, muttering insults under his breath, but neither he nor I dignified Rin’s scolding with a proper response. As we walked past, I heard Rin mutter under her breath, “Arrogant, trashy mages…”
I allowed myself a faint smirk. They, too, would learn soon enough. The paths we walked were far beyond their understanding.
As we left the building, Rudra, Boris, and I made our way back toward the larger Chaldea facility. The rivalry between Rudra and I burned as hot—and cold—as ever. But for now, our differences would have to wait. For the mission ahead, I would tolerate his presence.
Though, the day would come when we settled this once and for all.
But not today. We both know A Mage worth should prove by skills. We don't care about trash anyway.
For now, I should focus on my two goals.