And so ends Marvel Animation’s first season of Fantastic Four – a season that walked the tightrope between 1960s comic book absurdity and the punchy bravado of 1990s beat-’em-ups. That might sound like a backhanded compliment, but it’s anything but. It’s high praise.

Any long-running IP evolves over time, but the producers of this show, by design, infused it with Stan Lee and Jack Kirby’s gleeful chaos from the word go. The dynamic between the married Reed and Sue, the bickering rivalry of Ben and Johnny – it’s all remarkably faithful to the original 1962 comics run.

The season works because it knows what it is: a well-made show that’s self-aware, steeped in its roots, and unafraid of meta-humour. There are moments that would genuinely shock adults – simply because they exist at all.

The finale is no exception. The title may tease the return of the World Devourer, but truth be told, the reappearance of Galactus and the Silver Surfer isn’t the point. In fact, they’re not even the villains you’re led to expect.

Enter Doctor Doom – now wielding stolen cosmic power. It’s not a new beat; comics and live-action adaptations have played this card more than once. But here, it’s not about novelty. Doom doesn’t need introduction or fanfare. He simply is.

And while some of the season’s sillier elements – Ms. Forbes, the catchy theme tune – fade after this week, season two picks up the mantle. It continues the tradition, bringing Marvel’s First Family to life with even stronger tales, written by the very kids who grew up with them and who now could shape the mythos themselves.

Some rivalries are built on ideology. Some on vengeance. And some – like Doctor Doom versus the Silver Surfer – are forged in the quiet, calculated theft of godhood.

Their first encounter is pure Kirby-era madness. Fantastic Four #57–60 (1966) sees Doom do what Doom does best: exploit a moment of vulnerability. The Surfer, stranded on Earth by Galactus, is still adjusting to humanity’s noise and nuance. Doom, ever the opportunist, lures him in with feigned curiosity – then steals the Power Cosmic right out from under him. No war, no duel. Just theft. Doom becomes a walking apocalypse, and the Fantastic Four scramble to contain a man who now bends reality with a thought. It’s not just a fight – it’s a warning: Doom doesn’t need to understand the cosmos to weaponize it.

Years later, in Silver Surfer Vol. 3 #6 (1987), the tables turn. The Surfer, now free from Earth’s orbit, confronts Doom again – this time in Latveria. Doom has upgraded, of course. He’s built a device to siphon cosmic energy, and once again tries to claim the Surfer’s power. But this time, the Surfer doesn’t fall for it. The battle is brutal, philosophical, and deeply personal. Doom sees the Surfer’s restraint as weakness. The Surfer sees Doom’s ambition as rot. Neither wins, but the clash leaves scars.

Then comes Silver Surfer Vol. 3 #112 (1995), a quieter, stranger encounter. Doom, having survived countless defeats, seeks the Surfer not to fight – but to understand. He wants to know what it means to be truly free. The Surfer, ever the reluctant sage, offers no easy answers. It’s less a battle than a meditation, but the tension is still there. Doom doesn’t want enlightenment. He wants control.

Across these stories, the pattern holds. The Surfer is power tempered by conscience. Doom is ambition unbound. Their battles aren’t just physical – they’re ideological. Doom wants what the Surfer has, but refuses to pay the emotional cost. And the Surfer, for all his strength, can never quite stop Doom from trying.

They don’t clash often. But when they do, it’s never just about energy blasts and force fields. It’s about what it means to wield power – and what it costs to keep your soul intact.

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