Just A Doombot

The armored figure raised their arms, palms outward. For a moment, Natasha Romanoff heard the buzz of electronics. Then she was flipping as twin beams of plasma lanced out from the arms and annihilated the Fantastic Four's conference table. As she tumbled, the figure was already moving, drawing their twin beams of destruction towards her. The movement was smooth, controlled, but there was the tiniest delay in reaction time...and, she noticed as she moved from cover to cover around the room, was deliberately avoiding the unconscious super-women.

Doombot, then, Black Widow decided as she grabbed the unconscious Sue Storm and slung her over her shoulder. The robot, apparently programmed not to harm Sue, ceased its attack.

Which was all the opening Natasha needed to bolt out of the room, the unconscious blonde over her shoulder.

The Black Widow did not go into a building she didn't know how to get out of. She had memorized the exits, was following the swiftest path to where the Avengers Quinjet was parked. Yet even as she ran through the Baxter Building, she could smell the cum leaking out of the Invisible Woman's quim, and more Doombots emerged, hands raised, sending out bursts of fire or concussive force, cutting off avenues of retreat.

Natasha didn't know if Doom was actively watching, or if the Doombots were autonomous. It didn't make much of a difference. She had no means to take out a single Doombot, much less a dozen. Over her shoulder, Sue Storm groaned.

"Not now," the Black Widow whispered to the blonde as she carefully kicked out a window. Wind whipped past, and Natasha stuck her head out. The roof was only thirty feet overhead. She raised her arm and a line shot out, a tiny claw impacting and burying itself deep. Two tugs, to make sure it would hold both their weight.

Then she was outside, above the street, pulling herself up hand over hand.

She made it halfway up when a Doombot emerged from the window, its boot-jets engaging, flying up to hover in front of her.

"Flight is pointless," the Doombot intoned. "Surrender now, and you will not be harmed."

"That mutant pig man was going to rape me into submission," Natasha shot back.

"Surrender, and he will not touch you," the Doombot said. "In this, you have the word of Doom."

The Black Widow hung suspended above the street, feet planted against the glass. She stared at the robot, and knew that somewhere in Latveria, the real Victor von Doom was speaking to her. He had never broken his word.

"And the rest of the heroines?" Natasha said.

"You are not in a position to negotiate," the Doombot said, that tiniest of echoes as the voice of Doom was bounced off of satellites to arrive here, to give her a choice. She felt a tug on the line and looked up. Another Doom bot stood above her, had one metal glove on the line.