The moment the unfamiliar voice reached his ears, Bonucci reacted instantly...
His hand shot toward the alarm button beneath the desk while the other reached for his waist.
'Have those damned old aristocrats finally made their move?' The thought flashed through his mind just before searing pain overwhelmed his senses.
The figure in the dark green cloak moved faster than he could comprehend. A blinding arc of electricity lashed out, leaving half his body paralyzed.
The uninvited guest leisurely disarmed the Prime Minister, removing the pistol from his waist with almost casual indifference.
A metallic hand clamped around Bonucci's throat, dragging his slightly portly frame into the study's private resting chamber like a stray dog...
Doom's hollow gaze swept over the wall-mounted collection of BDSM implements, "Tsk tsk… what refined tastes..."
Handcuffs, gags, and whips were mere child's play here... among them were devices he had never seen nor heard of. Clearly, the Prime Minister of Latveria enjoyed spicing up his busy political life with some… recreational activities.
Plucking a cat-o'-nine-tails from the wall, Doom ran his fingers along its tendrils before turning his attention to Bonucci, who was now sprawled on the plush bed.
*Crack!*
With a sharp snap, the whip struck the Prime Minister's body.
Unlike the gentle caresses Bonucci was accustomed to, Doom wielded the instrument with brutal efficiency.
Before becoming a tool of pleasure, the cat-o'-nine-tails had been an implement of punishment. During the Age of Sail, European ships lacking proper whips would force prisoners to cut lengths of rope, fraying one end into nine strands while leaving the other intact as a handle.
Three hundred lashes were often enough to kill a man...
Doom delivered ten in silence.
Unable to endure the pain, Bonucci howled for mercy: "What do you want? Money? Power? Name it! If it's about the plutonium, I'll call off the manhunt immediately!"
The masked madman said nothing, continuing his methodical assault without demands or questions.
Under the suffocating weight of that silence, even the Prime Minister's fortified psyche crumbled...
"I want nothing." The hoarse reply carried a hint of mockery.
Tossing the whip aside, Doom studied the terror-stricken Bonucci before removing his glove, revealing a hand of fused flesh and steel.
The air hissed as arcs of white-hot electricity coiled around his fingertips like serpents.
Bonucci stared in shock. He has heard of superhumans, but never witnessed their power firsthand...
"History quiz, Prime Minister. What happened on November 5, 1605?"
"The Gunpowder Plot!" Bonucci, who had studied history, scrambled for the answer.
He was no fool. Resistance would only invite more pain. Survival demanded compliance.
"Bingo." Doom nodded approvingly, "Guy Fawkes... that bold fanatic tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament and kill King James I during its opening ceremony. A shame the plot was exposed. He was executed opposite Parliament; hanged, drawn, and quartered. But today, a true Gunpowder Plot will unfold in Latveria..."
"What… what are you planning?" Confusion momentarily outweighed fear in Bonucci's trembling voice.
Doom didn't answer.
His fingers brushed a switch, and the room plunged into darkness as electricity surged into his body. The green cloak billowed as if caught in a gale.
Outside, alarmed bodyguards called out...
Thirty seconds later, eight elite agents burst into the study.
A flicker of hope ignited in Bonucci's eyes. Against hundreds of security personnel, what could one superhuman do?
White-hot bolts lanced forth, felling the guards like wheat before a scythe. Doom dragged Bonucci down the corridor under flickering lights, each flash punctuated by another lethal discharge.
The stench of scorched flesh filled the air.
To Doctor Doom, these "elite" defenses were little more than a flimsy fence... They were barely sufficient to deter children or wild animals.
Amid blaring alarms, he ascended to the palace roof with Bonucci in tow. The ease of their passage owed much to security forces hesitating to use heavy firepower with the Prime Minister as a hostage.
"Sniper One in position…"
"Priority is the Prime Minister's safety…"
"Locate the intruder…"
"Awaiting orders!"
Through his scope, the sniper glimpsed the terrorist... a steel-masked figure shrouded in green, clutching Bonucci like a ragdoll.
One pull of the trigger, and a 7.62x54mmR round would reduce that skull to paste...
Unfazed, Doom hoisted Bonucci to the rooftop's edge, "Do you enjoy symphonies, Prime Minister?" he asked.
Trembling, Bonucci nodded...
He has never encountered madness like this. It was unfathomable, and unpredictable.
"Schubert? Mendelssohn? Liszt? Tchaikovsky?"
"...Mozart."
"Good. I too admire Europe's greatest classical composer." Doom tapped the rooftop's copper piping as if musing aloud, "Let's play Symphony No. 40 in G minor."
Suddenly, the city erupted in music...
Melancholic yet passionate notes blared from every speaker and broadcast tower... a torrent of frustration, sorrow, and repressed fury swirling through the night.
"You must be wondering why I brought you here... What I truly want..." Doom positioned Bonucci at the rooftop's edge, overlooking the city that now drowned in symphonic grandeur.
His rasping voice carried a strange wistfulness: "When I was a boy, my greatest dream was to leave the slums. To live in the city."
"You–"
"The day I earned my scholarship, you praised me before the press. You called me Latveria's 'Rising Star'. When I succeeded abroad, my hometown gifted me this mask. engraved with 'Latveria's Glory'. Surely you remember now."
Bonucci's eyes widened. A name clawed its way from his throat: "Victor Von Doom… It's you?"
"Of course." Ice crystallized in Doom's tone, "I've returned to bring this land rebirth. But first, obstacles must be removed. I know snipers have me in their crosshairs. But Prime Minister... this mask isn't merely steel. It's something beyond your comprehension."
As the symphony's final notes faded into the night, Doom's voice turned glacial: "Thank you for the plutonium. I made... modifications and left it in your chambers. Latveria shall kneel before the Church of Doom. Your death will bring peace."
A blinding white eruption engulfed the Prime Minister's residence. The green cloak flared like a banner in the storm...