Chapter 8 – "Residue"
The echo of the anomaly tugged at Victor's awareness like a thread of silk in a storm. Faint. Lingering. Almost imperceptible. But it was there.
Victor stood atop the old industrial roof where he had just completed his kinetic reinforcement exercises. His breath came slow and even, though his body hummed faintly with the residue of energy — not just his own.
He knelt, placing his palm flat against the concrete. Cold. Dull. But not neutral.
"System," he murmured beneath his breath, "catalogue this anomaly. Passive detection only. No alerts unless threat threshold is breached."
> [Acknowledged. Passive anomaly signature tracking initialized.]
[Current intensity: 0.12. Fluctuation: minimal. Source: unknown.]
He pulled his hand away slowly. The energy had sunk into the structure — as if it had once been saturated and now was fading. Old, perhaps days old. But it didn't feel natural. There was something… foreign in its frequency. A warp in the metaphysical weave.
He let the thought settle for now. Patience.
Victor descended the fire escape, boots echoing against the metal grates, cloak fluttering behind him. The city below had no idea what it was sitting on. What slept beneath its surface. Or what might have touched it.
---
Down at the street level, the usual dull drone of New York murmured in the background. Sirens in the distance. Neon signs flickering. The occasional shout from a passing pedestrian. All trivial compared to the expanding world he now inhabited.
Victor's gait was purposeful as he slipped into the flow of people, hood drawn over his head. Even now, surrounded by life and motion, he was utterly alone.
He wasn't ready to confront the world. Not yet. Power without understanding is a fool's weapon. And Doom… was no fool.
---
Back in his temporary refuge — a disused, upper-floor apartment in a rundown tenement building — Victor began his evening regimen. Not because it was necessary, but because it had become familiar. A part of his recalibrated discipline.
Push-ups. Sit-ups. Squats. One hundred each.
Every motion was enhanced now. Reinforced with microbursts of kinetic support. Muscle fatigue was a curiosity, not a limitation. But he still adhered to the rule of progression. Natural growth alongside supernatural advancement.
As he dried off and re-donned his black thermal undersuit, his mind turned once again to the System.
"Display current stats," he commanded quietly.
> [STAT WINDOW OPENING…]
---
Name: Victor von Doom
Level: 2
Class: [Unassigned]
Experience: 220 / 300 XP
Attributes
Strength: 14
Agility: 12
Intelligence: 18
Endurance: 13
Willpower: 20
Energy Sensitivity: 17
Luck: 5
Active Abilities
Kinetic Manipulation I – (Push/pull/repel small objects, limited to line of sight)
Reinforcement Pulse I – (Short burst of internal kinetic armor, dampens 1 minor impact)
Passive Abilities
System Link – (Multiversal interface; hidden from external detection)
Energy Detection I – (Low-range awareness of energy fluctuations/anomalies)
---
Not enough. Not nearly enough. But it was a start.
Victor closed the panel, eyes narrowing.
He needed more data.
More knowledge.
And more importantly, understanding of the forces that shaped this world.
---
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
Three slow raps.
Then two fast ones.
Victor froze. Not fear—calculation.
He hadn't given this location to anyone. Not Riley, not anyone. He'd taken measures to ensure privacy.
The System remained passive, registering no immediate threats.
He approached the door quietly, pressing his ear to the aged wood.
Nothing.
Just breathing.
"Speak," he commanded through the door.
A muffled voice answered. "Your lights are on. That building's been empty for months. Thought someone might've moved in."
Victor frowned. He had been careful. No light should have escaped. Not unless someone had been watching from another rooftop.
He opened the door just a crack, keeping the chain on.
Outside stood a woman in her late twenties, short-cropped black hair, denim jacket, a toolbox in one hand.
"I'm the building's maintenance. Or what's left of it," she added with a dry smile. "Power grid's been screwy. Saw some flickers. Thought maybe squatters left something plugged in."
Victor studied her for a moment. Her voice was steady, posture casual. But there was something tight in her eyes. She wasn't afraid. She was measuring him, too.
"I pay rent," he said evenly, tone flat.
She raised an eyebrow. "To who? This place's been off-market since 2016."
Silence hung between them. Finally, she shrugged. "Not my problem. Just don't burn the place down."
She turned and walked away, toolbox swinging.
Victor watched her leave, then closed the door slowly.
That… wasn't random.
And the fact that the anomaly was still pulsing faintly — just faint enough not to set off alarms — made it worse.
Coincidence was for the weak-minded.
Doom saw patterns.
---
Later that night, as the moon rose behind a haze of clouds, Victor climbed to the rooftop again.
From here, the city stretched endlessly. Towers and lights and motion. But beneath it, a new game board was being drawn.
And he was no pawn.
> [Anomaly fluctuation detected. Intensity: 0.14. Vector shifting.]
"Good," he whispered, a faint smirk forming. "Let's see where you lead."