Q1: A glowing purple rift opens up in the sky over downtown Manhattan during your lunch break. What is your immediate reaction? A. Stand there, pull out my phone, and film it for social media. If Iām going out, Iām getting millions of views first. [Survival Odds: 5%] B. Sprint straight to the nearest subway station, packed bag in hand, hoping this timeline has decent cell reception. [Survival Odds: 75%] C. Kneel immediately. Iām not getting vaporized over a miscommunication; Iām pledging allegiance to whoever comes out of that portal. [Survival Odds: 90%] D. Put on a dramatic suit, deliver a snappy one-liner, and assume my plot armor will carry me into the sequel. [Survival Odds: 99%] Q2: Doctor Doom addresses the world, offering absolute peace in exchange for complete, total submission. How do you respond? A. Refuse loudly in public. I have principles, even if my physical combat training consists of two years of high school track. [Survival Odds: 5%] B. Try to analyze his tech to see if thereās a dimensional glitch I can exploit to jump to a quieter universe. [Survival Odds: 75%] C. Honestly? Lower taxes, zero traffic, and dark green velvet cape uniforms? Iāve heard worse political platforms. [Survival Odds: 90%] D. Form a ragtag team of legacy characters, make a speech about hope, and prepare for an impossible third-act battle. [Survival Odds: 99%] Q3: You run into an alternate-universe variant of yourself who looks slightly cooler and has a better backstory. What do you do? A. Get irrationally competitive, challenge them to a fight, and immediately realize why theyāre the primary variant. [Survival Odds: 5%] B. Exchange notes on which timelines to avoid, then quietly slip away while they draw all the enemy fire. [Survival Odds: 75%] C. Offer to be their personal assistant. Two of us means double the efficiency when serving the new regime. [Survival Odds: 90%] D. Team up for a double-team cinematic splash page shot, complete with synchronized quips. [Survival Odds: 99%] Q4: What is your go-to defense mechanism when an army of Doombots invades your neighborhood? A. Hiding behind an overturned yellow taxi and hoping the main characters don't throw it at a villain. [Survival Odds: 5%] B. Using a modified quantum device I found in a garage to phase out of the local dimensional plane for an hour. [Survival Odds: 75%] C. Wearing a makeshift green cape so the Doombots think Iām an off-duty Latverian civil servant. [Survival Odds: 90%] D. Relying on my multi-picture contract and fan-favorite status to guarantee I survive until at least the next movie. [Survival Odds: 99%] Q5: A beloved hero sacrifices themselves in a tragic, slow-motion explosion right next to you. How does this affect you? A. I become the emotional catalyst that inspires the survivors, meaning my job is officially done and I can be written out. [Survival Odds: 5%] B. I grab whatever tech they dropped, pocket it, and use it to negotiate safe passage out of the battle zone. [Survival Odds: 75%] C. I take mental notes on how Doom defeated them so I can write a glowing propaganda piece for Latverian State Television. [Survival Odds: 90%] D. I scream their name toward the sky, get a dramatic orchestral score swell, and unlock a massive power spike. [Survival Odds: 99%] Q6: Choose your ideal location to sit out the Multiversal Incursion: A. Right in the middle of Times Square, where all major superhero set pieces inevitably take place. [Survival Odds: 5%] B. A quiet, off-grid pocket dimension that nobody bothers to index on the TVA monitors. [Survival Odds: 75%] C. Castle Doom in Latveria. Itās fortified, well-heated, and has excellent architectural symmetry. [Survival Odds: 90%] D. The Sanctum Sanctorum or the Avengers Compound, right in the center of the strategic war room. [Survival Odds: 99%] Q7: When the dust settles and the timeline is inevitably rebooted, where are you? A. Mentioned briefly in a passing line of dialogue as "one of the tragic losses of the first wave." [Survival Odds: 5%] B. Alive and well in a completely random alternate reality where I now sell vintage record players. [Survival Odds: 75%] C. Promoted to Chief Bureaucrat of Battleworld thanks to my unwavering loyalty to Emperor Doom. [Survival Odds: 90%] D. Posing dramatically on top of a mountain of rubble as the screen fades to black before the post-credits scene. [Survival Odds: 99%] Results: - Survival Odds: 5%: You are the civilian in the yellow jacket who looks up from their coffee just as the sky turns purple. You don't have super-soldier serum, magic, or a multi-movie deal. Your primary role in Avengers: Doomsday is to establish the sheer threat of the villain in the first eight minutes. On the bright side, your brief appearance will be featured in every trailer breakdown on YouTube for the next six months. - Survival Odds: 75%: You realize early on that staying on Earth-616 during a multiversal war is bad for your health. While everyone else is arguing about honor and heroism, youāre quietly packing your bags, locating a TVA TemPad, and bouncing to a quiet timeline where the worst threat is mild rain. You might not get a statue built in your honor, but you get to keep breathing, which is a trade youāll make every single day. - Survival Odds: 90%: When Doctor Doom offers total order, you don't argue with the guy who mastered both high tech and dark magic. You immediately recognize who holds the real power in the cosmos and land a comfortable administrative position in the new regime. While the Avengers are getting beaten up across the cosmos, youāre in a climate-controlled office in Castle Doom filing quarterly reports. All Hail Doom! - Survival Odds: 99%: You aren't just surviving Doomsday; you're on the poster. You have the quips, the emotional backstory, and the glowing weapon needed to stand on the front lines against Victor von Doom. Youāll suffer a few dramatic beats, get thrown through a building or two, and deliver an inspiring speech in Act 2. As long as your contract hasn't expired, your plot armor is thicker than vibranium.
