"Using a full moon projection to trigger Titanification?"
In the frigid gloom of the palace hall in Svartalfheim, Malekith finally interrupted, unable to contain his scorn after listening to Laufey's lengthy explanation. Never in all his studies had he encountered such a disgraceful representation of the Eternal Titan race.
"To be precise, it's the transformation into a Great Ape, triggered by exposure to a projected full moon image emitting a specific wavelength of light," Laufey clarified. Under his control, the snow covering the throne of Jotunheim began to reshape, gradually forming a towering simian figure. The sheer size of it made Malekith's brow furrow.
"That man isn't an Eternal Titan. He's merely Thanos' adopted son. This transformation must be a racial trait of his own."
"In a contest of raw power, I don't believe you can best this monkey."
"We'll see," Malekith said coldly, waving a hand to end the transmission.
"Algrim," he called out, turning toward his most trusted lieutenant. "Gather everything we have on Thanos and this Lothar. Bring it to me."
Though proud, Malekith was nothing if not cautious. At this critical juncture, Algrim was the only one whose intel he trusted implicitly.
"Yes, my lord." Algrim's voice rang through the channel. As the connection severed, Malekith settled back into his throne, his figure swallowed once again by darkness, leaving only a rasping whisper echoing through the chamber…
"Come back. All of you, come back…"
"The twilight of Asgard is near…"
...
"You are all heroes of Asgard!"
"Heroes!"
"Heroes!"
"Heroes!"
Odin's impassioned speech reached its crescendo, and a roar of fervent voices answered him. In the heart of Asgard's plaza, citizens raised their arms in unison, sending off the departing soldiers with heartfelt cheers.
Cheers born of genuine respect, from the depths of their souls.
"This… is Asgard."
A prism of rainbow light descended. On the military staging ground, Hela flexed her fingers, casting a glance toward Lothar standing beside her. A rare smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Boring," Lothar muttered with a sneer, shifting his gaze toward the unfamiliar land before him.
Half shrouded in darkness, half bathed in light.
The realm of the Dark Elves lay cloaked in shadows, while the soil beneath his feet radiated divine luminescence. Yet upon this sacred ground loomed a fortress reeking of military austerity.
The Asgardian Military Base in Svartalfheim.
Constructing their own stronghold on foreign soil and forbidding native resistance—such was the overbearing will of Odin, King of Asgard.
"This is what they call national pride. What, don't you have ceremonies like this in the Black Quadrant?" Hela teased.
Lothar couldn't be bothered to answer.
In the Black Quadrant, there was no need for such pomp. Thanos issued his command, the Black Order followed, then came the deployment. Victory was achieved in silence, and retreat was equally efficient.
Ceremonial fanfare? Unnecessary.
"Father used to say—"
"Stop. I don't want to hear what your 'father' used to say." Hela's face darkened as she cut him off.
Seriously, how old was he? Still quoting his dad all day long? Had he even been weaned?
"Princess Hela."
At her arrival, the supreme commander of the Asgardian Svartalfheim base, Kiel, deactivated the defensive magic shielding the fortress. Stepping forward, he dropped to one knee in salute.
His square jaw radiated fervor, and the two stubby mustaches framing his lips were almost offensively sharp.
"Any movement from the Dark Elf army?" Hela asked, clearly relieved to shift the conversation away from Lothar's paternal devotion.
"Still the same as before," Kiel responded, his expression turning bitter.
Despite countless strategies and burning ambition to breach Svartalfheim and capture Malekith alive, the Dark Elf forces guarding the border had grown stronger by the day, frustrating all his efforts.
How was it even possible?
Malekith—a name from Asgardian history books—should have stayed dead. Yet after his resurrection, he somehow aligned seamlessly with the new era.
Worse, Asgard's latest magical weapons and spellcraft seemed utterly ineffective against his forces. Odin's state-of-the-art technology could not outmatch the ancient sorcery Malekith wielded to forge his revitalized army.
Modern innovation failing to overpower outdated tradition—this was what Kiel found most baffling.
"So it's still the same… Fine. See to it that our troops are properly stationed," Hela ordered, pointing to the fleet of hovering warships.
"No need," Lothar interjected. "My troops will remain aboard the warships."
To him, the Chitauri soldiers were far more intimidating in the sky than on the ground.
A true commander knows how to maximize the strengths of his forces. Besides, airborne Chitauri could support Asgard's ground forces more effectively—two birds, one stone.
"Whatever you say."
Hela didn't care enough to argue. She assumed Lothar's decision was just more posturing. With a nod to her adjutant, Kortian, she instructed him to help coordinate the forces—despite having to tolerate that one officer who seemed capable of saying only "congratulations" over and over.
Leaving the mess to them, she turned and led Lothar into the heart of the fortress.
[Kiel Marza, Asgardian, 1,523 years old…]
As Lothar followed her, data streamed across the right eye's HUD, courtesy of Woz, his floating mechanical companion.
"Lord Lothar, Woz is unable to update the database with information on the Dark Elves. It is recommended you request access to the military databanks from Lady Hela," the AI cat advised, its voice low but firm.
The footsteps halted abruptly. Hela turned around, eyes narrowing at Lothar.
She'd heard Woz's "suggestion" too.
"Kiel."
"Yes, Lady Hela." Already anticipating the request—thanks to Odin's prior briefing—Kiel approached Lothar and offered a data chip, containing all the relevant files.
"This contains everything you'll need. If anything's missing, don't hesitate to ask."
A glowing blue chip changed hands, and Lothar summoned Woz with a flick of the wrist. The blue mechanical cat projected into existence, its eyes casting scanning beams over the chip.
"Woz is scanning… Woz is reading data…"
"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Kiel Marza." The rotund cat bowed politely, its form almost adorably out of place amid the stark, militaristic surroundings.
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