"What kind of monster… did Her Highness Hela bring back?"
Kotian's face was filled with horror as he and his scattered troops retreated to a safe distance. The massive gate that once stood like a pillar between heaven and earth had been torn apart like worthless scrap metal by the giant ape, its mystical aura completely extinguished.
Kotian could feel it—what had been sealed within that swirling vortex of black and violet was none other than the power of Malekith, King of the Dark Elves.
As the full moon's projection faded, so too did the towering brown ape, reverting to the familiar form of Lothar. Draped in a red curtain falling from the sky, The Other landed softly to shield Lothar's gradually shrinking frame. When the crimson fabric fluttered away, Lothar, now clad once more in his shining silver armor, emerged into view.
"Prince Lothar, this man?" The Other carefully rolled up the curtain for future use and trotted over to Lothar's side, bowing respectfully as he pointed at Elrod, who now lay unconscious on the ground after being swatted from the sky by Lothar's palm.
"Bring him back. Find out where Malekith is hiding." Lothar glanced at Elrod with thinly veiled disdain—half of the elf's face had already been corroded by dark energy. Without missing a beat, The Other signaled to two Chitauri soldiers to carry the unconscious captive back.
"Come to my chambers later. I want an explanation." Hela's voice was low and cold as she passed by Lothar, her hand still faintly trembling as she clenched it into a fist.
The outcome of this battle, one instigated at Lothar's suggestion, was undeniably a tactical success. Yet Hela couldn't bring herself to feel triumphant.
Among the Asgardian warriors who had perished in the Star Annihilation Cannon's indiscriminate assault were many who had not yet evacuated the battlefield. Hela's heart ached for them.
If they had died by the hands of Dark Elves, she would have honored them with pride. But instead, they were obliterated by friendly fire…
"Close the door."
Inside the Asgardian military compound, the spacious room felt colder than ever as Hela stared icily at Lothar entering.
He turned and locked the door behind him, then lazily dragged a chair over and sank into it. He cast a casual glance out the window at the darkened sky. "So, what is it you want to say?"
"Are you playing dumb?" Hela slammed both palms down on the chair's armrests, leaning forward until her face was just a breath away from his. Lothar could feel the heat of her breath against his skin.
"The battle plan we agreed on had no mention of the Star Annihilation Cannon or any indiscriminate strikes."
"Those Asgardian warriors who fell tonight didn't die by the enemy's hand—they died by yours. Do you even realize that?"
Her voice was calm, but her emerald eyes bore straight into him.
"Naïve," Lothar scoffed, a mocking light dancing in his eyes.
"What did you say?"
"We won." The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips deepened.
"We won this war. That's what matters. Those sacrifices you mourn—are they really so important in the face of victory?"
"Not necessarily."
His words struck her like a hammer. Hela stood upright, closing her eyes as she took a long breath to calm her roiling fury.
"In war, only the outcome matters."
"I don't need you to lecture me about war." Her voice trembled with restrained emotion. His cold detachment—like a child selling off his father's land without regret—infuriated her.
These were her people.
This wasn't just about some cold calculation of victory and loss. If Lothar had even warned her before deploying the cannon, she could've saved those warriors who should never have died.
The lessons her father Odin had instilled in her were deeply etched into her soul.
Every warrior who fought for Asgard was a hero. And a hero's life should not end so senselessly.
"You're angry because you think those Asgardian soldiers died in vain because of me. Not because you believe they shouldn't have died at all. So spare me your pitiful mercy."
Lothar stood, brushing past her. Caught off guard, Hela stumbled backward, falling onto the plush bed behind her under the force of his shove.
"If it had been your father Odin who made that decision today, would you still be this outraged?"
"Don't you dare compare yourself to my father." Her midnight hair spilled across the bed, and her expression was as cold as ice. "My father would never raise his blade against his own army."
...
"Name."
"Di Elrod."
"Age."
"Two thousand three hundred."
At the border of Svartalfheim, within the Asgardian military encampment, Elrod sat restrained in the interrogation chamber. In front of him stood The Other, wielding the Scepter of the Mind Stone, trying to take hold of the prisoner's consciousness.
The Mind Stone was usually reliable in such tasks.
Its power over the mind was simply... unfair.
"Tell me—where is Malekith?"
"I don't know."
Elrod's face, half-devoured by dark energy and exposing his white skull beneath, twisted into a grin. "You can't control me."
The Other flinched, then coughed awkwardly to cover the reaction. He pressed the Mind Stone's scepter firmly against Elrod's chest again.
"It's useless, Asgardian dog. No one can stand against the power of the King," Elrod sneered, continuing his prophecy.
"Once the King's power is fully restored, all Nine Realms will fall into darkness. You will not be able to stop it."
Defiant and fearless, Elrod had no intention of bargaining for his life. His arrogance and conviction were palpable.
The Other lost his temper and whacked him on the head with the scepter, finally silencing that sinister grin.
"The Other."
He turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Clad once more in his silver armor, Lothar stood in the doorway.
"Your Highness."
"Status?"
"Your Highness… I don't know why, but the Mind Stone isn't working on him." The Other fidgeted nervously, fearing he'd be branded incompetent. He jabbed Elrod again for good measure, but the prisoner remained unaffected, even baring his teeth at Lothar in mockery.
"Woz," Lothar said, frowning.
"Lord Lothar," Woz answered, appearing at the door.
"Elrod's body contains an Infinity Stone isotope. It's faint, but it's enough to resist the Mind Stone's influence."
A holographic screen lit up before Lothar's right eye, displaying a dense stream of analytical data. The presence of Reality Stone particles, with properties resonant to the Mind Stone, churned his thoughts.
Unless the isotope was extracted, there was no way even Lothar could force the truth from someone with such indomitable willpower.
"Woz, can it be removed?"
"It would require time and a great deal of experimentation, Lord Lothar."
"Time is not an issue."
Lothar twisted the dial on the wristband around his arm. In a flash, a blue robotic tanuki materialized in the room.
"I understand, Lord Lothar." Woz reached into the pouch on his abdomen and pulled out two vials.
"Let's begin the experiment."
Shaking the liquid gently, Woz stepped forward, inserted one of the vial's nozzles directly into Elrod's body—
And the room was once again filled with the sterile, silent hum of ambition cloaked in science.
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