Chapter 2: The Boy and the Knife
The rain had dulled to a fine mist by morning, but the streets still smelled of gasoline, wet brick, and desperation. New York in 1943 was a city caught in motion — war-bound, industry-choked, and filled with more shadows than light.
Victor sat in the corner of the warehouse, hunched over a wooden crate he'd turned into a makeshift workbench. His fingers moved with clinical grace, dismantling an old radio he'd scavenged from a trash bin. Its copper veins and rusted circuits looked like little more than junk to the untrained eye.
But to Victor von Doom, everything was material.
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> [System Update: Arc-Pulse Node — Blueprint Unlocked]
[Component Requirements:]
— Copper Coil (2/4)
— Quartz Fuse (0/2)
— Basic Power Core (0/1)
Reward on Completion: +1 Engineering Proficiency | Unlock "Electro-Mesh Glove" Schematic
He narrowed his eyes. The components were primitive, but the concept behind them was not.
Arc-Pulse Nodes were the first step toward his true goal — multiversal integration. With these, he could stabilize the Dominion System's sync rate and maybe, just maybe, contact other versions of himself across the dimensional lattice.
But progress would have to wait.
Footsteps echoed from outside the warehouse.
Victor didn't move, didn't flinch. Instead, his hand slid under the workbench, fingers brushing the jagged edge of a shattered wrench.
Just in case.
The door creaked open.
And a boy — scrawny, half-starved, no older than fifteen — stepped inside. His clothes were too thin for the weather, and a knife far too large for him was strapped to his hip with twine.
He froze when he saw Victor.
"…You don't belong here," the boy said, voice cracking.
Victor didn't answer. Instead, he studied the boy like one might examine a ticking device — cautiously, patiently.
"What's your name?" he asked at last.
"Jacob," the boy replied, shifting his weight, hand resting near the knife. "This is our turf. Me and the others. You sleeping here?"
"Temporarily," Victor said, then returned to his radio, unscrewing a small plate without looking up.
Jacob hesitated. The silence between them stretched like wire — tense, but not hostile.
"I ain't gonna fight you," he said finally. "Not unless you steal from us."
Victor allowed a dry chuckle. "I don't steal. I build."
Jacob blinked.
"…You a kraut?"
"I am Doom," Victor said, without missing a beat.
Jacob frowned. "That… your last name?"
Victor finally looked at him. "It will be everyone's last name soon enough."
Jacob didn't understand the interface that now shimmered in Victor's mind, but he felt it. Something about this man in the shadows — quiet, calculating — told him it was better not to ask too many questions.
Still, curiosity was a fire, and boys like Jacob didn't have much else to burn.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing at the half-gutted radio.
Victor tapped a copper coil gently, like a teacher drawing attention to a diagram.
"An obsolete machine I'm improving."
"…You can fix radios?"
"I can do far more than that," Victor replied. "But I require assistance."
Jacob stepped back instinctively. "Not that kind of assistance."
Victor smirked. "Not that kind. I need parts. Metal. Wire. Fuses. Bring me scraps from junkyards. In return, I'll give you something better than food."
"…Better than food?"
"Purpose."
Jacob was quiet for a long moment. Then: "What if I say no?"
Victor shrugged.
"Then I wait for someone smarter."
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The boy left, still unsure if he'd just agreed to a job or a curse.
Victor returned to his work.