The immense throne room of Castle Doom was a study in contrasts. Ranger's eyes, cool and analytical, wandered the space as he sat in his throne of shifting, futuristic alloy. Opposite him, Thor sat upon a throne of dark, rune-etched iron, his form wreathed in a constant, crackling nimbus of divine electricity. The raw power radiating from the All-Father was immense, a contained storm capable of killing men and gods alike, yet neither Ranger nor Doom seemed remotely concerned. The thrones themselves, Ranger noted with a flicker of appreciation, were forged from a unique alloy of Adamantium and Vibranium, laced with other, more exotic metals, designed to absorb and ground just such an outburst, preventing the very castle from being torn apart by the ambient power of its guests.
Doom, for his part, did not care. He sat upon his own throne, a monument of regal indifference, his impassive metal faceplate turned towards Thor. His gaze was as it always was: arrogant, analytical, absolute. It was the same gaze he had once turned upon his own creators, the Beyonders. It had not faltered then. Why would it falter now, before an Asgardian who, for all his divine might, could bleed and die all the same?
A heavy silence permeated the room. Ranger grew bored. Thor continued to crackle with cosmic energy. Doom continued to care for nothing beyond his own inscrutable thoughts.
Then, the grand doors creaked open, just a sliver, and a masked head poked in. The head looked around curiously, its wide, white lenses taking in the impossible scene of three god-like beings locked in a silent, high-stakes waiting game. The gaze finally stopped on one figure.
"Uh… Mr. Ranger?" the voice was a nervous squeak. "Can we have a talk?"
"Arachnid." Doom's voice, a cold, metallic baritone, cut through the silence. "Manners are something Doom appreciates. You do not interrupt kings."
"Doom, he is just a kid." Ranger countered, his tone deceptively casual. "An unmannered one, certainly, but still a kid. Leave him be." He rose from his throne, the movement fluid and unhurried, and picked up the crackling Turbo-energy canister that now held the Venom symbiote. "I will be with the boy. When Thor has concluded his… meditative preparations… call for me." He walked towards the doors, the sound of his boots echoing slightly in the vast hall.
Ranger closed the heavy doors behind him, leaving the two monarchs to their silent, thunderous council. He found Spider-Man pacing anxiously in the antechamber.
"Oi, kid. Catch." Ranger said, tossing the canister towards him. "It's your new pal."
Spider-Man fumbled it for a second before his reflexes took over, his grip secure. He stared at the swirling black goo within, its movements hypnotic and unsettling. "Is this…?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Yes. It is the symbiotic creature that was previously bonded to you. Call him Venom." Ranger explained. "I have a distinct feeling you two are going to be the best of friends, and the worst of enemies. Maybe even lovers, if you swing that way." He gave Spider-Man a pointed, appraising look. "Do you swing that way, Peter?"
Spider-Man, or rather Peter, looked up in horror, his body going rigid, the canister almost slipping from his grasp. The question he'd been about to ask died on his lips. "Pete… Peter? Who's Peter?" he stammered, his voice cracking, his flustered denial utterly unconvincing.
"Kid. No need to act in front of me." Ranger said, his expression one of pure, unadulterated amusement. "I know that you are Peter Parker. I've known since before we first met in that rather chaotic turf of yours. Let's not kid around."
Peter Parker looked like he'd been struck by lightning. He paced back and forth, muttering to himself, running his hands through his hair. "Not even half a year with this whole superheroing thing, and your secret identity is already exposed. To, like, a dozen different people! This is bad. This is really, really bad." He took a deep, shuddering breath, then let it out in a long, defeated sigh.
"Uh… Mr. Ranger." he began, his voice laced with a desperate concern, "you haven't… you haven't shared this information with anyone else, have you? Because if my enemies found out… they'd go after my Aunt May, and MJ, and everyone I care about."
Ranger patted his shoulder, the gesture surprisingly gentle. "Relax, kid. There is no conceivable benefit for me to disseminate your private information to every small-time crook or costumed miscreant I come across. Besides." his voice softened almost imperceptibly, "I know you are a good kid. I would not wish for your heroism to be the thing that takes your family away from you."
"Thank you, Mr. Ranger. Thank you so much." Peter said, a wave of profound relief washing over him. He took off his mask, revealing his youthful, earnest face, and took a deep breath of the unfiltered air. "You have no idea how hard it is to breathe in that thing sometimes. Wait." He smacked himself on the forehead. "Did I… did I give my identity to Doctor Doom?"
Ranger's lips curved into a wicked curl. "You didn't. I did. Thought it would make the introduction smoother."
"Why would you do that?!" Peter yelped, his panic returning full-force. "Dr. Doom is a supervillain, isn't he? Even if he's your… friend… he'll try to harm me, won't he? He'll go after my family! He'll—"
"Relax." Ranger interjected, his calm a stark contrast to Peter's rising hysteria. "Doom, for all his villainy, operates by a strict, almost archaic, code of honor. And his honor, his monumental ego, would never permit him to stoop to attacking the family of a child to gain leverage. It is, by his own twisted metrics, beneath him. He may consider you an amusing annoyance, a gnat to be swatted aside, but he would not target your loved ones not unless you truly become his enemy."
Ranger leaned against a pillar, crossing his arms. "In fact, here's a piece of unsolicited advice, kid. If you ever find yourself facing a villain you cannot possibly defeat, a threat that is genuinely targeting your family… make Doom your enemy. Attack his pride. Publicly challenge him to a one-on-one duel. His pride, his code, would compel him to answer. He would destroy the villain who had dared to come after you, not out of any sense of altruism, but because his honor does not permit another to hunt what he considers his prey."
"But… if I do that, won't Doom come after me?" Peter muttered, the logic twisting in his head. "And if he can kill a villain that I can't… doesn't that mean he's someone I should stay as far away from as possible?"
"Yes, of course. He is Doom after all." Ranger stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe. "And yes, you will lose. Spectacularly. But when you do lose, do not compound your error by further playing on his pride. Unless.." Ranger's eyes glinted, "you believe you can play that game better than he can. Doom does not care for ants he has already crushed. You would be, in that moment, just that. A defeated foe, no longer worthy of his attention. Hell." Ranger mused, "you could even throw yourself on his mercy, pledge your allegiance to Latveria, and he would likely treat you better than any so-called democratic nation in this entire universe. You would be his asset, and Doom protects his assets."
Ranger's gaze drifted to the high, ornate windows, to the clouds forming high above the castle. "Don't ask why. All I can say is, it's because he is Doom. He is an honorable man. And he will keep his word, far more reliably than many of the 'heroes' you so admire."
Peter Parker fell silent, taking in the baffling, contradictory words. The idea of Doctor Doom as an honorable, if terrifyingly dangerous, figure was a concept his mind struggled to process.
"So, kid." Ranger said, breaking the silence, "how are your ears? The Doombots healed you alright?"
"Yeah! Yeah, they healed me up. Pretty good. But give me a warning next time you do it." Peter replied, shaking himself from his reverie. "They have some seriously high-tech stuff here. Way better than what they have back in Baxter Buildings. They even healed up some of the old nagging muscle damage I had from my… hero times." He did a few quick, effortless acrobatic flips, landing silently, showing off his renewed flexibility.
"Mr. Ranger." he began, his voice hesitant now, the earlier fanboy excitement replaced by a more serious, searching tone, "I know I haven't asked, but… back then… what did you mean when you said you wanted to change my destiny?" It was the million-dollar question, the one that had been buzzing in the back of his mind.
Ranger looked at him, a long, appraising gaze. "The answer to that question…" he paused, a dramatic flair worthy of Loki himself, "I will tell you when you graduate from being Spider-Boy to being Spider-Man. So, maybe when you grow up." A faint, almost sad smile touched his lips. "But cheer up. It's for the better. At least the destiny I would write for you would make a positive, lasting impact on your life."
Peter Parker wanted to ask more, to press for details, but just then, a Doombot glided silently into the antechamber. "Sirs." its synthesized voice intoned, "the All-Father and Lord Doom have concluded their council. They are ready."
"So, kid." Ranger said, clapping a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Ready for a tour of the cosmos?"
Peter, still lost in thought, just nodded numbly.
They followed the Doombot back into the throne room, then out through a different set of grand doors, into a vast, walled garden at the heart of the castle. The air here was cool and fresh, a stark contrast to the oppressive power of the throne room. Thor and Doom stood in the center of a large, circular clearing, the grass around them singed, the stone paving cracked. Thor held Mjolnir aloft, its head crackling with divine lightning, the energy arcing from the hammer to the sky, which had grown dark and tempestuous above them. The hammer itself grew brighter and brighter, a miniature star of pure, concentrated power.
Ranger and Doom stood back, watching, while Peter instinctively hid behind Ranger, shielding his eyes from the blinding light.
Then, with a roar that was both a challenge and a summons, Thor threw the hammer. It didn't just fly; it tore through the sky, a bolt of pure, divine intent, the air itself seeming to part before it. A second later, a shimmering, incandescent tunnel of rainbow light erupted from the heavens, its base connecting with the ground where the hammer had been, with a sound like a thousand shattering rainbows.
"Follow me." Thor boomed, his voice resonating with the power of the Bifrost itself. "This shall lead us to the domain of the God of Light. Follow, or be left behind." He strode into the rainbow bridge without a moment's hesitation. Doom followed, his green cloak billowing, his stride as regal and certain as Thor's.
Ranger looked at Peter, whose eyes, wide with a mixture of terror and utter wonder, were fixed on the swirling, kaleidoscopic energies of the Bifrost.
"Kid." Ranger said, his voice cutting through Peter's awe. "That's the Bifrost, well the newer version. A strategic weapon of untold power, and our personal chariot to the edge of the universe. Wear your mask, and come right in. It's going to be a journey of a lifetime." Ranger walked into the shimmering light, and the Bifrost took him, whisking him away to the domain of the Enigma Force.
Peter Parker looked around the empty, scorched garden, then at the swirling rainbow vortex before him. He let out a long, slow sigh, a sound of profound disbelief and undeniable excitement. He pulled his mask back on and, with a running start, jumped headfirst into the Bifrost. The rainbow bridge took him, and then, with a final, brilliant flare, it closed, leaving behind nothing but a crater, a lingering scent of ozone, and the destruction of a once-beautiful garden.