DC Under Doom Chapter 7: Haephestus.

Chapter 7: Haephestus.

-0-

The royal chambers of Themyscira were quiet yet heavy with purpose.

Doom stood in the center of the grand hall, arms clasped behind his back, his emerald cloak flowing as he listened to Queen Hippolyta’s decree.

She regarded him carefully, measuring her words. "The Gods have heard of you, Doom of Latveria."

Doom’s mask reflected the candlelight, unreadable.

Hippolyta continued. "They have requested an audience with you. A meeting in Olympus."

Diana, standing beside the Queen, glanced at Doom, wondering what his response would be.

She did not have to wonder long.

Doom did not hesitate.

"No."

The room fell silent.

The Amazon council exchanged glances, shocked by the blatant refusal. No one denied an invitation from Olympus.

Diana’s brow furrowed. "Doom, this is not a request one simply ignores."

Doom turned his head slightly. "I do not move at the whims of others."

His voice carried no arrogance, only certainty.

He faced Hippolyta once more. "If the Gods wish to speak with Doom, then let them come to me."

Gasps rippled through the chamber. The Amazons tensed. Had this man just demanded the Gods themselves come to him?

Diana exhaled slowly. "Doom—"

He cut her off. "We are leaving."

Doom turned toward the exit, his steps precise and unhurried.

Then—

The sky roared.

A bolt of lightning split the heavens.

The very air shook with divine power.

A pillar of golden light crashed into the throne room, illuminating the marble floors in celestial radiance.

The Amazons dropped to their knees immediately.

Even Diana, hardened warrior that she was, lowered herself in reverence.

Doom?

Doom remained standing.

The light faded, and from its center, five figures emerged.

At their head, seated now upon Hippolyta’s throne, was a towering, bearded man wreathed in golden lightning.

His piercing eyes scanned the room with amusement and authority.

Zeus.

Beside him stood four other Gods of Olympus.

Ares, the God of War, his crimson armor gleaming as he studied Doom with narrowed eyes.

Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom, watching with quiet calculation.

Hera, Queen of the Gods, regal and unreadable.

Haephestus, the God of Forge and Blacksmiths, his weathered but strong form wreathed in fire and the smell of coal and steam.

The throne room crackled with divine presence.

Zeus leaned back in Hippolyta’s throne, as if he had sat upon it a thousand times before. His voice rumbled like distant thunder.

"You are bold, Latverian."

Doom’s arms remained crossed.

And then, as if commenting on an unimportant matter—

"You're late."

Silence.

The Amazons dared not breathe.

Diana closed her eyes briefly. Here we go.

Zeus' expression shook for the briefest moment—shock, then amusement.

Then, he laughed. A deep, roaring sound that echoed through the hall.

"Interesting."

Ares, however, was less amused.

His eyes burned into Doom. "You speak as though you are our equal."

Doom finally moved, taking a single step forward. "You misunderstand, War God."

His voice never wavered.

"I do not see myself as your equal."

Ares' grip on his sword tightened.

Doom's next words cut through the air like a blade.

"I see myself as greater."

Thunder boomed once more.

Doom had just declared himself greater than the Gods.

And Ares, the God of War, would not stand for it.

A blur of motion.

Ares moved at Planck time speeds, reality itself distorting around him as he drew his sword and lunged.

The Amazons barely saw the movement. Even the other Gods remained still, watching.

Then—

A resounding shockwave exploded through the chamber.

Ares stopped mid-strike.

His sword had been caught.

By Doom’s single gauntleted hand.

The impact should have sundered mountains. Instead, Doom had not even shifted his stance.

Ares' eyes widened in disbelief. “Impossible—”

Doom tilted his head slightly. "You disappoint me, boy."

With a casual flick of his wrist, Doom disarmed Ares entirely.

The enchanted sword spun through the air, clattering uselessly to the floor.

Ares stumbled back, stunned.

Doom took one deliberate step forward. His voice remained calm, measured.

“A lesson.”

Ares tensed, ready to summon another weapon—but Doom simply raised a single armored finger.

And Ares' body collapsed to the ground.

Not from a strike. Not from a spell.

From raw, undeniable authority.

The Amazons gasped. Even Athena narrowed her eyes in concern.

Ares struggled, his arms shaking as he tried to push himself back up under what felt like the gravity of a million worlds.

Doom looked down at him.

"When facing a King, even a God must learn his place. Let alone an immature brat of one."

Ares gritted his teeth. Something unfamiliar burned in his chest—shame.

And for the first time in recorded history… the God of War wept.

Seeing this, Zeus, his pride stung, leaned forward in Hippolyta’s throne. "Enough. You test my patience, Doom."

Doom remained unmoved.

"And you test mine, Skyfather."

Lightning flashed violently across the sky.

Athena finally spoke. "You are powerful, Doom. But Olympus is beyond even your reach. We exist on planes mortals cannot even perceive."

Doom turned his masked gaze toward her. "Incorrect."

Athena frowned. "You believe yourself beyond the will of the Gods?"

Doom raised his hand—and a holographic display materialized in midair.

Lines of pure data, intricate calculations, and energy wavelength readings filled the room.

Doom gestured. "This is the precise energy signature of Olympus, carried in during your entry. Based on this data, I have calculated its exact coordinates in this reality."

Silence.

The Gods stiffened.

Doom continued. "Your divine realm is not untouchable. It is merely well-hidden. If I so desired, I could launch an orbital strike powerful enough to collapse Olympus' dimensional tethering."

His next words were absolute.

"Your kingdom exists because I allow it to."

Even Zeus' lightning flickered uncertainly.

For the first time, a mortal had spoken to the Gods not as a worshiper, not as a warrior, but as something more.

As a God of the gods.

Before Zeus could react to his fury, another voice cut through the chamber.

"Fascinating."

All eyes turned to Hephaestus, the God of the Forge.

He stepped forward, his gaze locked on Doom’s armor.

"I have been observing you, King of Latveria," Hephaestus said. "Your armor. Its craftsmanship is… remarkable."

Doom finally acknowledged him. "Naturally."

Hephaestus stroked his beard. "I must know—how did you weave such intricate runes into the metal without compromising its structural integrity?"

The Gods and Amazons stared.

A tense silence hung in the air.

Then—Doom actually answered.

"By embedding micro-arcane lattices within the molecular structure of the alloy," Doom explained smoothly. "The runes are not merely etched—they are an intrinsic part of the metal, bonded at an atomic level."

Hephaestus' eyes lit up with genuine intrigue. "A fusion of science and sorcery. A rare talent."

Doom inclined his head slightly. "It is not talent Forge God. It is mastery."

The exchange stunned everyone present.

A mortal had just educated a God of the Forge on metallurgy and enchantment.

And Hephaestus was not offended. He was impressed.

Zeus, still seated in Hippolyta’s throne, exhaled slowly. His pride demanded punishment. His throne had been challenged.

But Hephaestus had shifted the atmosphere.

Zeus turned to Hephaestus. "Can you handle this matter, Forge Master?"

Hephaestus nodded. "If left to me, I can ensure Doom does not become Olympus’ enemy."

Zeus narrowed his eyes at Doom. "And if he already is?"

Hephaestus did not hesitate. "Then we cannot stop him."

A chilling silence fell over the throne room.

The Gods had no answer to that.

Zeus rose from the throne, his form radiating divine power.

"The next time we meet, Doom, you will kneel."

Doom, unshaken, merely folded his arms.

"I kneel to no one, Olympian."

Then, his voice darkened.

"The next time we meet, ensure that your son has learned his manners."

Ares flinched.

The tension reached its peak.

Then, in a final flash of divine energy, Zeus and the Gods of Olympus vanished.

The storm had passed.

But it had not ended.

As the Gods faded, the Amazons slowly stood from their kneeling positions.

Diana turned to Doom, her expression unreadable. "You had no fear of them."

Doom adjusted his gauntlets. "Fear is for those without power."

Hippolyta, still processing what she had witnessed, finally spoke. "You have changed the course of history today, Doom."

Doom turned to her. "I change the course of history every day, Queen."

The Gods had come to judge Doom.

And they had left uncertain of their own power.

Soon after, the treaty was signed by both parties.

The Amazonian Council stood in full assembly, their golden armor gleaming under the torches of Themyscira’s grand hall.

At the head of the room, Queen Hippolyta raised her sword.

"From this day forth, Themyscira and Latveria shall stand as one."

Doom stood opposite her, his emerald cloak flowing behind him, his mask reflecting the firelight.

The Amazonian and Latverian banners were raised side by side. A moment of history was written.

Diana, standing at Doom’s side, watched silently. She had never thought she would see such a moment—her home, long isolated, now bound to a nation as enigmatic and powerful as Latveria.

Doom offered a single nod. "A wise choice, Queen."

Hippolyta studied him for a moment, then returned the nod. "Let us hope it remains so."

With the formalities completed, Doom turned to Diana. "It is time we returned."

Before they could leave, a deep, rumbling voice called out.

"Not so fast, King of Latveria."

Both turned to see Hephaestus approaching, his frame covered in soot and divine craftsmanship.

He gestured toward the distant cliffs. "Before you leave, you will visit my forge."

Doom regarded him for a moment. Then, he simply said:

"Very well."

-0-

The heart of Themyscira’s volcanic mountain range housed the divine forge of Hephaestus.

Rivers of molten metal flowed through the cavern, glowing like captured sunlight. Anvils carved from celestial stone lined the massive chamber. The air was thick with power, magic woven into the very atmosphere.

Doom walked slowly, taking in every detail. His mind analyzed the structure, the enchantments, the fusion of divine magic and physical craftsmanship.

"Impressive," he admitted.

Hephaestus chuckled. "That is high praise coming from you."

The forge god gestured toward a table where several ingots of rare metal rested.

"You are a man of both science and magic. So tell me, Doom—what do you make of these?"

Doom approached, his gauntlet scanning the metals with advanced sensors.

One in particular stood out.

He lifted it, feeling its divine resonance.

"This… is Amazonium." He had learned of it from Themiscyra's libraries.

Hephaestus nodded. "A metal born from the blessings of Olympus itself. Few weapons in existence can break it."

Doom studied it closely. "Comparable to the Uru of Asgard. Possibly superior to the enchanted properties of Proto-Adamantium."

Hephaestus raised an eyebrow. "You have seen Adamantium before?"

Doom nodded. "A friend—perhaps a foe—of mine wielded it. His claws were unbreakable. This metal possesses similar properties."

Hephaestus grinned. "And yet, I sense you are thinking of something else."

Doom set the Amazonium down and turned to the forge god. "There is a metal in my world that I do not see among your collection. A metal that absorbs energy instead of merely enduring it."

Hephaestus' expression shifted to curiosity. "Describe it."

Doom folded his arms. "It is called Vibranium. A metal that can absorb kinetic force, redirecting or nullifying it. A perfect balance between offense and defense."

Hephaestus frowned. "I have never encountered such a metal. Though a close equivalent in Nth metal exists. Sadly it is volatile with magical enchantments and refuses to be easily molded. This Vibranium sounds too good to be true."

Doom’s eyes gleamed beneath his mask. "Then we shall create it and you shall see for yourself."

Doom approached the forge and began analyzing Hephaestus' stored metals—ingots gathered from across the cosmos.

Among them, he found elements that mimicked some of Vibranium's properties. Some metals absorbed energy. Others redirected it. But none were complete.

Doom, however, was no ordinary craftsman.

With Hephaestus watching in fascination, Doom combined these metals with sorcery and precision engineering.

He adjusted their molecular structure, binding them with arcane lattices, forging a new ore from the fires of the Gods themselves.

When the process was complete, a single ingot of Vibranium rested on the forge.

It hummed softly, absorbing the very vibrations in the air.

Hephaestus reached forward, tapping the metal lightly—and no sound came from it.

The God of the Forge blinked. "By Olympus…"

He turned to Doom. "You… created a metal that did not exist in this world."

Doom simply watched. "Naturally."

Hephaestus laughed. "You continue to surprise me, Doom."

He placed a heavy hand on Doom’s shoulder. "Perhaps it is time I repay the favor."

Doom tilted his head. "Elaborate."

Hephaestus smirked. "I will forge you a new armor. One worthy of both Gods and Kings."

Doom considered this. "And what is your price?"

Hephaestus shook his head. "No payment. Only one condition."

He turned to Doom, his eyes gleaming. "You will aid me in enchanting it."

Doom was silent for a moment.

Then, with a slight inclination of his head, he replied:

"Naturally."

Because in the end, Doom trusted no one else to make a masterpiece.