"Prophecies are merely references and possibilities. Exploring those possibilities and finding the right path is our duty." The Emperor continued leafing through scrolls and books at an unhurried pace. The dry papyrus records of divine revelations from thousands of years ago made faint rustling sounds beneath his fingers. "I have spent too much time on this work. I have heard too many stories. I would not be foolish enough to follow the path of a prophetic tragedy. We still have room to choose."
"I believe you, but I do not know whose misfortune you learned of that made you hole up in the library without a care for anything else." Victor von Doom turned to look around. It was quiet here. The bustling discussions in the library's entrance hall were blocked by the heavy metal doors, and the sunlight beyond the windows was covered by black cloth. Candles were the Emperor's only source of light for reading. Perhaps there was also the faint glow of the Fortress-type Automated Combat Robot's standby indicator lights, but that firefly-like glimmer was far too weak. "And you have answered all the official documents as well." The Regent looked at the mountain of scrolls and books piled beside the Emperor and let out a deep sigh. "How long has it been since you slept? How long since you returned to Oxfordshire Manor?"
"Since I came to Kamar-Taj. I greeted the Witches, and they have temporarily permitted me to leave." The Emperor's expression remained calm. "You have the authority to approve official documents yourself, Victor. You possess all of my authority in Latveria and the City of Immortals."
"Then it has been about three days." Pretending not to hear the Emperor's reminder, the Regent had Hammurabi bring him a chair, then unceremoniously pulled out a bottle