The atmosphere fell into utter silence in an instant.
Neither Lothar nor Hela could bring themselves to relax in the presence of the seemingly harmless creature in front of them. After all, they had just witnessed it devour a massive surge of magical energy with that monstrous tentacle and abyssal maw—something that was no laughing matter.
"P-Prince Lothar… t-this thing is…" The Other, clutching his scepter, trembled as he approached, terror written all over his face as he stared at the orange tabby.
A force of world-ending power had just been eaten by a tiny creature that could easily be mistaken for a house pet. To The Other, the shock was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He had seen plenty of strange, magical, and even absurd phenomena over the years, but this? This was straight-up cosmic-grade nonsense.
A cutesy little furball?
Is this a joke!?
If he hadn't seen the supernatural occurrence with his own eyes, he would've never believed that such a small, squishy-looking thing could have a stomach that bottomless.
"Is this Malekith's pet?"
"Stationed here to guard the necromantic resurrection node?"
As he glanced toward the dark elf undead slowly regenerating again, Lothar was quick to pin the blame on Malekith.
"I've never heard of Malekith keeping pets," grunted Hela, gritting her teeth as she struggled to her feet, her weakened body swaying slightly. She glanced at the cute little round head now tilted curiously at her and Lothar. No matter how she looked at it, she just couldn't reconcile this adorable beast with the terrifying tentacles she'd just seen.
Even Fenris, the massive wolf currently convalescing in an Asgardian ranch, didn't give off such dreadful vibes.
"Meow~"
As if it understood her words, the orange Flerken lifted a paw and waved it in front of Lothar and Hela. It looked utterly harmless—almost like it was asking… to be fed?
Lothar wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but that really was the vibe he was getting. Especially when the creature plopped down by his boot and gently tugged at the hem of his black battle suit with its soft, pink paw.
"Lord Lothar, Woz recommends maintaining distance from the Flerken. It is extremely dangerous." After combing through the database set up by Ebony Maw, Woz delivered the warning. Data about the Flerken lit up in a translucent display over Lothar's right eye.
Flerken—origin unknown. Habitat and behavior patterns largely unrecorded.
These creatures resemble domestic felines in size and appearance. Despite their harmless look, they are considered one of the most terrifying entities in the universe. Their stomachs are connected to pocket dimensions—possibly other parallel universes—which allow them to consume nearly any matter or form of energy in existence.
Most notably, they are exceedingly rare, and thus highly valuable.
"…That's it?" Hela tapped the screen repeatedly, trying to turn the page, only to realize that the information had already run out. It was that short. Just like those Asgardian serial novels that end the moment things get interesting.
"Lady Hela, the Flerken race is shrouded in mystery throughout the cosmos. This is the most comprehensive data currently available. Even Asgard's intelligence division wouldn't be able to do better." Woz replied with solemn precision, clearly a little defensive.
"You—" Hela was about to retort when her eyes widened in alarm.
Lothar was pointing his palm—right at the Flerken!
BOOM!
A sudden burst of brilliant energy erupted, catching everyone off guard. But before the shockwave could even spread, the Flerken opened its maw… and gulped it all down like a snack.
"Meow!"
"Meow~"
"Meow~"
The creature licked its lips in satisfaction, then leapt gracefully onto Lothar's shoulder, curling up lazily like it owned the place. It let out three soft meows that left The Other slack-jawed.
"W-what is happening?!"
"…Hungry?" Lothar mumbled, still not entirely sure, as he reached up and gave the orange furball a few tentative scritches.
"Meow~"
The Flerken stretched comfortably across Lothar's shoulder, letting out a lazy yawn. Its big round eyes blinked at Hela before giving her an almost sugary sweet, high-pitched purr: "Meow~"
"…You're talking to me?" Hela asked, caught off guard. She hesitantly extended a hand and lightly pressed it against the creature's soft belly. The Flerken stretched again, licking its lips while locking eyes with her.
Taking a cue from Lothar's earlier actions, Hela drew on what little magical energy she had left in her nearly depleted body and gently offered it to the Flerken.
The beast sniffed at her hand—and instantly lost interest. It lowered its head with visible disappointment, completely ignoring her offering.
…What the hell?
Excuse me?!
You saying my energy isn't good enough for you?!
"Lord Lothar, it appears that this Flerken has a particular fondness for your internal energy signature." Woz, ever the precise analyst, was now sounding unsure himself.
"Perhaps… because your energy differs from the rest of this universe."
Hela's gaze snapped toward Lothar.
Different from this universe?
What the hell does that mean?
As she tried to process that, a green nutrient vial dropped into her lap.
"Lady Hela, please recover quickly. The resurrection node hasn't been destroyed yet." Woz was already shifting back into mission mode now that the Flerken seemed content.
After all, that hybrid energy wave earlier? Gone—devoured—no effect.
"No need, Woz."
Lothar's calm voice interrupted her as she brought the vial to her lips. She looked up just in time to see him grab the Flerken by the scruff of its neck and aim it toward the undead beyond the Chitauri's forward line. The creature blinked, visibly confused.
"Lord Lothar?!"
"Those undead… are just energy manifestations at the end of the day." As Lothar spoke, a silver-white energy sphere formed in his left hand. The Flerken immediately perked up.
"Eat them all," Lothar said, now openly testing his theory, "and I'll give you one of these energy orbs every day."
A direct bribe—nothing subtle about it.
His father had always told him: A wise king must learn how to negotiate with all kinds of creatures.
"Meow!"
—
Svartalfheim. The armies were ready.
Algrim knelt on one knee, and behind him stretched a vast legion—an unending tide of soldiers roaring for war.
"The Nine Realms War… ends today."
High above the ground, Malekith hovered in the void, arms extended as he gathered a vortex of horrifying dark energy. But suddenly—
BOOM!!!
A cataclysmic explosion shattered the land of Svartalfheim!
The shockwave of destructive energy tore across the plains with terrifying force!
What the—?!
Malekith's pupils shrank. He instantly sensed the source of the disturbance—and couldn't believe it.
That was his virtual Hel, powered by the Aether—now obliterated!
"My king!!!"
His soldiers wailed as the shockwave swallowed them. Malekith's eyes darted wildly, every muscle in his body screaming caution.
"Malekith! Get your ass out here!!!"
A thunderous roar split the skies—and a brilliant silver light descended from the heavens!
Out of the radiance strode a man clad in a sleek black battle suit, a lazy orange Flerken lounging on his shoulder. Behind him walked The Other with his scepter in hand, and Hela, wielding her warhammer. A smirk of pure, unrestrained arrogance curled at the man's lips, his expression a portrait of defiance.
His eyes burned with wild fire.
He was here to end it.
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