"Ah," said Misha, softly. She was a curiosity to Doom. In retrospect it made far too much sense and her expression turned pained when she realized it. Everything that she had done to blend in with the rest of the world, bide her time and try whatever opportunities she could manage in order to get home, all of that worked on the world, but not the one person outside of their group who would be able to see their rouse for what it really was. Her luck just so happened to dictate that the one person would be Victor von Doom, who would take the enigmatic stranger as an insult to his pride and intellect.

She turned from him, rolling onto her other side and pressing her face partway into the pillow. "You've got some work cut out for you," she said. There was no way she was going to tell Victor what she knew. That would put everyone in danger, not to mention that the things she knew in the hands of a genius like Doom would probably be much more enlightening to him than to Misha. It was why she still had things she never really got around to telling Reed for fear of unleashing something she couldn't understand. Once she was recovered enough, she absolutely had to get herself out.