When he wakes up, it's to a headache.

(He'll learn later that this is the tell tale sign of 'the shift', something that he's not completely familiar with, but something he will become familiar with.)

The headache is pounding, more of a migraine than anything else, but he also recognizes that it's something else. It's this recognition that pushes Neal to the side and brings Victor to the forefront, and for a moment, Victor is confused.

Simply because, he cannot ever remember living in Boston of all places, this is not Latveria, or even his second home in Switzerland. But also, he cannot remember sharing his life with someone else in his head either.

Multiverses and other Earth realities are things that Victor is all so used to. The incursions, bringing them forth, becoming God for all of the universe, falling back to reality, these are all things from his most recent past. His longer past brings a darker side, brings the idea of world domination, of remaking the world in his image, of trying to make the world a better place for his people. He had been viewed as a dictator for those who lived outside of Latveria, and sure, some inside as well. But he cared for his people; that was always the one thing that he pointed out to people.

Doom looked after Latveria. No one looked out for Doom, Doom controlled his own destiny.

(Of course, he easily slips back into talking in third person, and if he wants to stay hidden for a while, he has to make sure he doesn't do that. Not that anyone has really seen his face for years, and he has a feeling that those who have seen his face don't remember doing so. Multiverses and alternate timelines are different like that, and he'll have to take advantage of that for a while. He sees no problem in doing this.)

Victor, for all his faults, was well aware that his way of functioning might not always work for everyone else. He was cold, he was calculated, he wasn't really well versed in the niceties of people as he wasn't someone who really held any personal connections with anyone. Rules ruled alone, not with others, and he was always destined to rule in some form.

(Until, he wasn't. Until he came back and remembered everything about Battleworld and playing God, and how the one flaw his perfect world had was him. Until he tried to prove to another superhero that he was worth the interest. It was a complication he wasn't used to, but people and their minds would not be changed over night. Not unless he had control over them, and he wasn't about to go hunting for that. Not yet.)

But for now, he was stuck with Neal in Boston, and he wasn't really sure of his surroundings. He started to hunt around the well furnished penthouse. At least Neal lived well. It wasn't a castle, and there wasn't a lab, but it was something. There was no armor (of either Doctor Doom, or of Iron Man) in Neal's closet, so Victor assumed it just had not appeared yet. His magic though, worked, sparking at his fingertips, and at least there was something that was normal. Taking stock of the situation, Victor decided that for now, he could live with this situation, He could live with this outcome. He just needed to figure it out, be a scientist, figure out how he got here and why he was here. Which, could prove difficult without allies.

(Not to say that Neal didn't have any - it was more that he hadn't actually tried to look for them yet. Victor couldn't be bothered. Not right now.)

As he wandered into Neal's kitchen, and spied a bag of chips, he opened it up and leaned against the wall, over looking the penthouse as he snacked. First, he had to see if he was recognized. Then, he had to see who could be depended on. Thirdly, he had to figure out who the adversary was here, because he knew for a fact that it was not him.

That could wait for after lunch.