Mole Man

A squat figure waddled forward. He leaned on a wooden staff, and his green one-piece outfit looked like some kind of engineer's coverall—but a dark cape swayed behind him, and perched on his prominent nose was a pair of queer, square goggles with narrow slits.

The Mole Man needed no introduction. He had fought the Fantastic Four more times than anyone here save Doctor Doom—and without the aid of sorcery or time machines. Doom watched him approach with a calculating gaze. They knew each other of old.

"Victor von Doom," the Mole Man nodded his head. "I greet you as one monarch to another."

"Spare me your courtesies, Harvey Elder," Doctor Doom said. His tones were clipped. "You have failed to defeat the Fantastic Four before; they know your strategies as well as mine. How can you bring about the ultimate doom of the Invisible Woman?"

"We each have resources that the other lacks," the Mole Man said, and he drew closer.

"What do you believe you have that I do not?" Doom said, warily.

The Mole Man placed both hands on his staff, and leaned closer. His voice dropped to the merest of whispers.

"Monsters."

Behind those slitted glasses, the Mole Man's weak eyes took in the holographic images of Susan Storm. The tall, blonde beauty, with her full breasts and swaying lips, the easy laugh and keen intelligence, represented everything that the surface world had denied him. Long had he meditated on her image of late, long had he planned and schemed for a way to make her his conquest.

After a long moment, the Mole Man spoke.

"There are secrets of the inner Earth that even you have not discovered. Recently, I have spent a long time in the darkest pits. I have seen forms of life that have never seen the light of day. Alien and unknown to the surface world, with queer powers and stranger appetites. On their own, I might use them in my own schemes—but with your resources wedded to mine—"

The short man grinned. It was a rat-like smile that contained no mirth.

"I will promise you this. Lend me your aid, and Susan Storm will know a doom unlike anything she has ever experienced—and Reed Richards suffer such loss as he shall never know before or since!"

Doctor Dooom appeared to consider this. In truth, the sheer confidence exuded by the fool intrigued him. Perhaps, at least, Doom could learn from his mistakes.

"Very well, Harvey Elder. We have our pact. Now tell me—what do you need from me?"

"Your time machine," the Mole Man said simply.