Dr Doom, Who are you? (Marvel X DC)

Pain.

That was all that Ronan could comprehend as he lay inside the Jet, his eyes threatening to shut every so often.

He constantly looked down to see if all limbs were intact or if his guts weren't spilling out.

With the pain he was feeling, he wouldn't be surprised if he was being skinned alive, his organs being harvested while he was conscious.

The cockpit felt claustrophobic, making it hard to breathe, or maybe that was his shattered ribs forcibly pushing against his lungs, threatening to rupture them.

He couldn't move a muscle and his insides felt like they were being stabbed repeatedly.

He could feel the surge of pain he'd been ignoring all this time finally start to come on as blood drenched the cockpit of the jet,

With an arrow in his shoulder, his forehead bruised and the effects his Technobane had been having while running rampant in his body left his physical state in a mess.

His mental state was arguably even worse. 

After exhausting his Technopathy, neglecting the nerves shooting pain toward his mind and playing a mental tug of war with the Carnage symbiote, Ronan was having a hard time even forming a thought.

Additionally…

-BURM BURM BURM

Ronan shot his eyes open in surprise, the sensation of falling flooding his mind as he quickly regained control of the jet with his Technopathy.

'I…can't close my eyes.'

He was so tired even the pain he was feeling couldn't distract him.

In the state he was in now, falling unconscious would mean death.

His record for holding back Technobane unconsciously was one hour. That was more than enough time for this jet to plummet and crash.

Therefore…

-RANGG!!!

Ronan shot his eyes open once again, realising he was drifting off. But now, after lessening the force on the Technobane, he couldn't last a second unconscious.

And so, a cycle began where Ronan would wake to a RANG, causing him to live through the torture of his pain, threatening to make him go insane.

When he thought he could have some respite upon closing his eyes, it felt like a hot rod was piercing into his brain, followed by a loud RANG, waking him once again.

Perhaps if Ronan had the clear mind to let the Technobane reach his brain he'd let it.

At this point, death seemed like a better fate than this.

But surprisingly, there was one thought that never left Ronan's mind.

He couldn't focus on it nor could he process what it was he was even thinking, however, it never stopped looming.

This single thought was what kept Ronan sane, causing him to endure what felt like decades of never-ending suffering.

However…

"We…arrived…X-Mansion."

A muffled automated voice entered Ronan's ears as he instinctively understood.

And so, with a final push, he opened the cockpit, crawling his way out as the light of the sun glared in his face.

The wounds around his body that had clotted immediately opened once again as he pulled himself up, dropping off the jet and hitting the ground with a THUD!

Blood oozed from his mouth as he forced himself to turn over, his one arm on the side that didn't have an arrow in it pressing against the dirt and clawing.

He didn't even take a second to look around at where he was. 

Hell, he even ignored the distant laughs and chatter he heard as he continued to dig, his fingernails bleeding.

'Ah, I think I understand now.'

Soon, he dug a sufficiently deep hole as he shakily pulled three objects from his pockets.

One was the container holding the Carnage Symbiote as one could see it was still riled up.

The second was an object that cast a soft blue glow on Ronan's face, especially under the shade of the Jet.

The device was a circular core surrounded by intricate metal filigree.

Surrounding the core were intricate silver patterns and small, glowing lines that radiated outward.

He was able to recognise it on the chest of Iron Man.

'All those times…'

But he wasn't thinking about this as he placed the core in the pit, pulling out the last item which was a small bottle containing a dozen or more light blue and white pills.

This time, rather than instantly placing it in the pit, he popped the cap, weakly putting one in his mouth as he swallowed, finally placing the vial in the pit.

[Substance detected entering the body. Changes will occur accordingly]

The distant voices became louder as he filled the pit with dirt, unable to make it perfect as he struggled to make it to his feet.

'With Spider-Man, the Tower and fighting Iron Man…'

"...Is that a Jet?"

"I don't think it's ours. I didn't see the others leave."

"It isn't. Ours is way cooler and bigger."

Ronan, weak-kneed with blood dripping down his body and out of every orifice, stood to his feet as he stepped out into the light.

"Get back kids, it might not be safe…"

All Ronan could hear was the sudden chatter and commotion come to a stop as he stood perched, facing what appeared to be a massive estate.

Or so he thought.

He couldn't see. His vision was blurry and his blood was soaking his eyes.

'All those times were the same. That feeling I had. I didn't know it at the time but after today…'

He could barely see the silhouette of countless individuals before him. 

And maybe his ears weren't working either because everything was silent.

No, that wasn't right. 

It was them who were silent.

'I wasn't scared or nervous like I thought…I was excited.'

And he guessed he was on a hill, above them, as when he used the last bit of his energy he had to take one more step forward, he plummeted straight down, face first.

'The sensation of being challenged by someone who was known to be great. The chance to…best them…and do the impossible…'

"...Get Hank…barely alive…"

Ronan, drifting off, heard the last muffled voices as footsteps rushed toward him. 

But his mind was elsewhere as it lingered on the last thought that had kept him sane all this time.

'I liked it.'

And with this, Ronan finally shut his eyes.

[The second Fragment is shaking violently]

***

"Oh my god…"

A dark-skinned female with long white hair stood at the forefront of dozens of teenagers, beside a man with thick sunglasses and a leather jacket.

With a large estate behind them and a few more teenagers exiting the mansion to see what the commotion was all about, they all froze like the others.

Though the white-haired female and sunglasses man were experienced enough to adapt to anything that might occur, they, like everyone else, couldn't help but stare.

They all stared at the messy-haired boy standing atop the hill, before the jet he arrived in.

But most notably, they stared in awe at the state of him.

With a river's worth of blood pouring down his body, out of every orifice and an unknown amount of wounds on his body, a scar running up his neck and stopping at his jaw glowed.

Circuit lines hummed as they adorned his neck and lower face.

With his clothes a mess and an arrow in his shoulder, the boy was barely standing, his arms limp by his side.

And his eyes…

'Is…he even alive?'

Some asked.

But he clearly was, they just couldn't understand how.

His eyes were misty, hollow without a hint of life, almost losing their bright green colour.

'Is he speaking?'

The white-haired woman asked, seeing his lips barely moving.

While her thoughts stayed logical, wondering if she should be on guard or run to help, the others had more instinctual feelings rather than thoughts.

Fear, shock, bewilderment.

Some wanted to look away from the gut-wrenching scene but simply couldn't.

However, as the boy started falling face-first toward the ground, they snapped out of their trance.

"Scott!" The white-haired female snapped, she and the man beside her darting to catch him before he hit the ground.

They weren't the only ones to come to their senses as some of the teenagers behind them looked away, some rushing to help while a few went to get someone more suited to do so.

But they were too late as the boy hit the ground with a THUD, the white-haired female and man arriving half a second later.

And before the former could say anything, she paused as she stared at the boy's lips weakly curled upwards as he mumbled one last time before his eyes shut.

"I liked it."

***

Everything was dark. 

Where one would usually experience some sort of dream or visions while unconscious, Ronan's brain was too tired for that.

However, even while unconscious, he could still hear the voices of those around him.

Not only that, he could…smell them too?

The lavender perfume on an individual with a soft female voice yelled, "He needs immediate medical attention. Get Hank." 

Followed by a horrified mumble under her breath, "H-He's barely alive." Accompanied by countless rapid footsteps.

Not that Ronan could comprehend these scents and sounds. 

No, at this point, after pushing himself well beyond his limit, Ronan's body and mind would take any chance they could to rest.

After this moment, everything became a blur as Ronan's bodily functions shut down.

However, after an unknown amount of time, they returned.

This time, he was able to feel the presence of a large figure over him, a feral scent to him, the kind you would find on a wild animal.

However, it was backed by a scent of chemicals and glass, the type Ronan would smell in his chemistry labs in school.

"...I don't understand how a boy so young could've lived through all that."

The voice was exactly what Ronan would expect after smelling the figure if he were conscious.

It was as if an animal could talk.

"Are his injuries that bad?"

The same feminine voice came from the direction where the lavender individual stood.

"Yes, but not just that. Something is roaming in his body. Some sort of poison…an artificial one."

The animal person paused as if he was just as surprised as the lavender figure who spoke a second later.

"Artificial? Are you sure?"

"I've never seen anything like it. I wasn't able to use any of our medical tools to heal him. I had to go old school."

"It's like all technology above a certain grade is…allergic to him. It's as if I'm reading a code when I look at his blood."

"And it's moving. As time goes by, the poison is travelling to…oh no, get Forge!"

The audio cut out once again after a loud beeping could be heard.

Nothing else could be heard once again as Ronan fell into a state of true coma.

"...It's interesting, huh?"

"What is?"

The voices began again, this time far more tranquil than the hectic scene prior.

"These scars on his body. They almost look like the pattern left after you shoot your lasers. Eerily similar…"

The lavender individual spoke, this time directly over the boy.

The presence of another individual also stood on the other side.

"Now that you mention it…don't look at me like that. I haven't been out hunting Mutant kids if that's what you're wondering."

A more masculine voice spoke, a smell of leather and hair products coming from him.

"I didn't say that. Maybe a person with similar abilities."

After this, dozens of voices would enter Ronan's ears, just as many scents too.

Despite not waking, he knew everything going on around him.

He knew he was in a small room and how many people were in at a time, due to the changes in temperature.

And as time went on, he started to comprehend them, understanding more and more until…

Ronan's eyes flickered open as light entered his eyes from an unknown direction.

"...He's waking."

Hearing this, Ronan's mind quickly started to clear the fogginess until everything that happened returned to him.

-CREAK

"Woah!"

Ronan shot up from the bed he was on, his eyes darting to the three individuals in the room. 

He tried his best to ignore the pain shooting through his body, but to no avail, as he winced, pressing his arm against his ribs.

His body was bandaged from head to toe, heavily so around his fingers, head, torso and shoulder.

Additionally, his left arm was in a sling, a result of the arrow.

"Calm down, it's okay."

Ronan paused as he stared at the white-haired female holding her arms up consolingly, her eyebrows raised as she forced a smile.

"My name is Ororo Monroe…"

"Where am I?" Ronan cut her off hastily.

He did this because everything he'd worked so hard for would all matter at this moment. 

Nothing would work if everything wasn't perfect.

He knew where he was and who she was, but he needed confirmation that everything he'd done wasn't for nothing.

"You're in Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters." The man wearing thick sunglasses answered behind the female.

"What's your name?" Ororo asked innocently, her movements slow and her voice tranquil as if she were talking to a scared cat.

"Ronan."

The boy calmed himself, listening carefully to what was said next.

"Ronan. That's a nice name. I won't trouble you with any personal questions like what happened to you or your life before today. But there's one thing you should know."

Ororo and the other two males in the room took a seat.

"I know that everything recently has been…almost surreal for you."

Ororo started, trying her best to find the right words as she slowly stepped closer to Ronan.

"Trust me, we all know what you're going through. But you've come to the right place. There's a simple answer to what's happening to you."

Ronan's heart leapt as he heard this.

His mission as a Martyr which seemed almost impossible, suddenly became far easier.

"Ronan, you're a Mutant."

'Come after me, Stark. I'll be waiting.'