"What did you do to me?!"
Elrod could feel it—an unnatural, swelling pain coursing through his body. It was like something inside him was expanding, pushing against every nerve, every cell. The sensation was unbearable.
"Relax, Lord Elrod,"
"It'll just be a bit... itchy."
Woz, calm and mechanical, watched as the milky white fluid from the vial surged into Elrod's body through a slender mechanical tube attached at the neck. As the last drop disappeared, Woz tiptoed up, lifted the vial overhead, and tucked it neatly back into his coat pocket.
The swelling turned to searing heat, like flames igniting inside Elrod's veins. His skin slicked with sweat, and from the half of his face that remained intact, a wretched scream escaped.
As he writhed, Woz rolled up the sleeves of his sterile lab attire, a radiance lamp now affixed atop his head. With Elrod's limbs secured to the cold, metallic table, Woz got to work.
Wherever there is experimentation, a table becomes an operating theater.
"Woz, report the results as soon as you have them," said Lothar, turning to leave. He had no intention of sticking around to watch this mind-numbing procedure. Only a synthetic lifeform like Woz, devoid of boredom, could stomach such things.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Lord Lothar."
Woz's voice tightened. His mechanical eye flickered with streams of data—urgent, volatile.
"He's about to explode."
"What?!"
Lothar's brow twitched. Elrod, lying flat, suddenly ballooned outward, an overwhelming aura erupting from his body and blanketing the entire Asgardian outpost in dread.
BOOM!
The explosion was deafening.
The command hall, once grand and imposing, was instantly leveled. Smoke billowed. Flames roared.
"Enemy attack!"
Alarms blared. The Asgardian army deployed at once—but when they reached what was left of the command center, all they found was rubble, two figures standing amidst the debris... and a single flower blooming in the center of the ruins.
"Lothar."
Hela stood amid the chaos, face ice-cold, demanding an explanation.
You were interrogating a prisoner—how did the command hall end up vaporized?
If she hadn't reacted in time, she might've been obliterated herself.
"Mmrrrr… Lord Lothar…"
From the dust, Woz crawled out, shaking soot and ash from his joints. He spotted Lothar, and with a faint pulse of light, transformed back into a bracelet and clasped around his right wrist.
"A parallel isotope of the Infinity Stones... it self-detonated?"
The data streaming through his right eye told Lothar everything. He quickly scanned the scene, then flicked his wrist. A shimmering blue panel of light materialized and hovered in front of Hela.
Her expression finally began to ease.
"What's with the flower?"
Now that she understood what had happened, Hela's eyes fell to the strange, swaying flower in front of them.
It was large—tall as Woz, and exuded a rich, almost intoxicating fragrance. Its petals were a deep, vivid purple, but its exposed bud was a harsh, eye-catching yellow. The whole thing looked... unnatural.
"No idea," Lothar replied, shaking his head. Woz's databanks contained nothing about this plant.
"Lord Lothar, the flower's fragrance contains a high concentration of hallucinogenic compounds," Woz reported. "I advise immediate destruction."
While the plant was unfamiliar, Woz's scent analysis indicated it was extremely dangerous. Even Lothar—augmented as he was—risked falling into a deep illusion if exposed for too long.
This was no ordinary flower.
Yet even after Lothar shared this warning, Hela remained puzzled. She had never heard of such a species, not even among the flora of Svartalfheim.
A species of the Nine Realms unknown even to Hela.
The scent thickened in the air, heavy and sweet. Hela winced, covering her nose. The fires from the explosion, which should have still been burning, had instead been absorbed by the flower's glowing yellow bud, which pulsed with growing brightness.
SHNK!
Without hesitation, Hela's black sword cleaved the flower in two. Severed from its stem, the bloom withered in seconds, its potent scent quickly dissipating.
"It's over. Just a... mishap during an interrogation," Hela announced to the arriving soldiers, waving them off. She turned back to the shattered command center, glaring at Lothar who still stood deep in thought. A new metallic shelter rose instantly from the ground beside them.
Where Lothar slept tonight was no concern of hers.
The Other—emerging from the rubble—glanced at Hela's conjured shelter, then at Lothar's pensive figure. Clutching his staff, he quietly went off to rally the minions and begin rebuilding.
As a loyal and diligent grand vizier, The Other was determined to resolve any trouble for Prince Lothar. It was his sacred duty, etched into the very core of his being.
Meanwhile, deep within Svartalfheim...
Malekith stirred. His communion with the sealed Aether particles had been interrupted. In front of him, a glowing purple bud quietly bloomed.
"The Dreamblossom... has begun to bloom."
Malekith's eyes gleamed as the surreal flower spun and shimmered before him.
The Dreamblossom—a fictional creation from ancient Dark Elf literature. A flower of world-ending potential. It grows by feeding on Dark Elf bodies, its reproduction nearly uncontrollable. Though not destructive by itself, its fragrant pollen drags all who breathe it into inescapable illusions. They remain trapped, dreaming, until the flower drains them of life.
Combined with the near-unsealed Aether particles, Malekith planned to seed Dreamblossoms across all Nine Realms—turning every realm into a dream-drunk pasture. No labor. No production. No war. Just livestock, docile and ripe for slaughter by the Dark Elves.
That was his vision.
That was his conquest.
And now, even before the Aether was fully unsealed, a prototype blossom had bloomed.
"Unexpected... but perfect. Let's see what my bloom of destruction is truly capable of."
He crushed the flower in his hand—and the image of where it had bloomed filled his mind—
Svartalfheim's border, Asgardian outpost.
Lothar awoke, startled by Woz's urgent alert. A strange scent clung to his senses—sweet, lingering.
"Woz."
"Lord Lothar, I advise you leave immediately."
Frowning, Lothar rose and opened the door.
Where the ruined command hall once stood… now bloomed an endless sea of purple flowers.
-----------------------
Want to read ahead of schedule?
Join here for advance chapters: PATREON.COM / PRIMALDEMON