Reality twisted around them as Loki initiated the dimensional shift.
The sensation was like being turned inside out while simultaneously stretched across infinite distance. The ship screamed in protest, its damaged systems failing in cascades as they forced their way through dimensional barriers meant to be crossed by intact vessels.
Jane cried out in pain, the Aether responding violently to the dimensional turbulence. Red energy erupted from her body, filling the cabin with destructive power that would have vaporized the ship if Sylvie hadn’t immediately redirected it through temporary portals.
“Jane!” Thor tried to reach her, but the acceleration forces pinned him in place.
“The Aether’s destabilizing!” Sylvie shouted.
“Can you contain it?”
“Not for long! We need to complete the jump now!”
“Working on it!” Loki’s hands were moving desperately across the controls. “The navigation system’s failing. I’m flying this thing manually!”
Clark unbuckled himself, ignoring the warnings from the others. His Kryptonian physiology let him move through forces that would have crushed a normal person. He reached the power systems and shoved his hands into the main conduits.
“Clark! What are you doing?” Diana called out.
“Giving us a boost!” Clark’s eyes began to glow blue as he channeled energy directly from his reserves into the ship’s engines. “Loki, try it now!”
Loki obliged, and the ship lurched forward with renewed power, punching through the last of the dimensional barriers like a bullet through paper. They emerged into normal space with half their systems on fire and the other half simply dead.
But at least they emerged.
“Status report!” Thor demanded.
“Life support’s at thirty percent,” Clark said, pulling his hands out of the power conduits. They were burned, but already healing. “Engines are completely fried. We’re running on momentum alone.”
“Where are we?”
Loki checked the barely functioning sensors. “Svartalfheim. We’re in orbit over Svartalfheim.”
“That’s... that’s actually where we wanted to go,” Diana said.
“Well,” Loki breathed heavily. “Miracles happen.”
He started shutting down failing systems to preserve what little power they had left. “But we’re not going to be in orbit for long. Without engines, gravity’s going to pull us down.”
“How long?” Diana asked.
“Maybe an hour. Maybe less.”
“Can we control the descent?” Sif asked.
“Define ‘control.’”
Clark rolled his eyes as he flexed his fingers. “Stop being snarky. Can we crash somewhere that won’t kill anyone?”
Loki glared at Clark but kept calm. “Doesn’t look likely, but I’ll try.”
Jane was gasping now, the Aether’s energy barely contained within her failing body. Thor quickly moved to her side, supporting her as best he could.
“Just hold on. We’re almost there.”
“Where’s... there?” she managed, wincing as another jolt of pain shot through her.
“Wherever no one would die on impact.”
“Comforting,” Jane muttered, clearly knowing that it meant only her. The rest were rather superhuman, after all.
Sylvie released her hold on the hull integrity spell, slumping against the bulkhead in exhaustion. “We’ve got maybe twenty minutes before this thing breaks apart completely. After that, we’re done.”
“Then we’ve got twenty minutes to land,” Thor said.
Loki was studying the sensor readings, or at least what little was coming through. “There’s a structure down there. Looks like ruins, maybe a city.”
“Malekith’s base?”
“Could be. Or could be leftover from when Svartalfheim was still inhabited.”
“Either way, it’s our landing zone.”
The ship began to shake as they entered Svartalfheim’s atmosphere—a thick, toxic soup that clawed at their damaged hull like acid. Warning alarms that had somehow survived this long began to fail, leaving them in relative quiet as they plummeted toward the surface.
“Everyone hold tight,” Loki said, his voice unnaturally calm. “This is going to hurt, I think…”
They hit the upper atmosphere hard, the ship tumbling as its damaged control surfaces failed to respond to the resistance. Loki fought the controls with everything he had, using his magic where technology failed, and somehow, he succeeded in managing to turn their death plunge into something close to a controlled descent.
Close, and almost controlled, anyway.
The ruins rushed up to meet them. The dark stone structures looked ancient and malevolent, and they were scattered across a landscape of ash and shadow. It was a depressing sight, and ominous in every manner.
“Brace yourselves!” Loki shouted.
They collided with the surface, and the impact drove the breath from their lungs. The ship hit the ground, bounced, and hit again, before it skidded across the ruins for what felt like forever. Metal screamed, stone shattered, and something vital finally gave way with a sound that was oddly like a distant wail.
And then there was silence.
For a long moment, nobody moved, everyone catching their breaths as they looked at each other. Then Diana unbuckled herself and stood up.
“Everyone doing good?”
Groans of affirmation came from around the cabin, and she nodded with a chuckle.
“Well, that was definitely something.”
“Tell me about it,” Sylvie groaned.
“Jane?” Thor asked urgently, his face filled with concern.
“Still here,” Jane chuckled weakly. “Barely, but here.”
Thor gave her a loving smile, and slowly, they extracted themselves from the wreckage, emerging into Svartalfheim’s poisonous atmosphere. The sky overhead was dark, starless, as if they’d entered a place where light itself feared to go. The ruins stretched in every direction, towers and walls built from black stone that seemed to absorb rather than reflect what little light existed.
“Well,” Loki said, surveying their crashed ship. “That went better than expected.”
“We crashed,” Clark pointed out.
“Yes, but we crashed successfully. There’s a difference.”
“So this is it, huh…” Sif remarked, her hand on her sword as she scanned their surroundings.
“Svartalfheim,” Loki replied. “The Dark World. Home of the Dark Elves before they tried to destroy the universe and got wiped out for their trouble.”
“Except for Malekith and the few others he’s got with him,” Diana said, making Loki glance at her with a grin.
“Except for Malekith. That’s all we need to concern ourselves with.”
Thor helped Jane out of the ship, supporting her weight as she struggled to stand. The Aether’s energy was clearly visible now, red light bleeding through her skin in patterns that looked almost like circuitry.
“We need to find shelter,” he said. “Get Jane somewhere safe while we figure out our next move.”
“Safe might be relative here,” Sylvie observed. “This place feels wrong. Like reality’s thinner here than it should be.”
She wasn’t wrong. There was something fundamentally disturbing about Svartalfheim, a sense that the normal rules of existence held less sway here. The air tasted of ash and ancient endings, and the darkness seemed malevolent, as if it was watching them with a level of intelligence that should not be possible.
“The ruins,” Clark said, pointing toward the largest structure visible. “That looks like it was some kind of palace or temple.”
“Good a place as any to start,” Thor agreed.
They moved through the dead landscape, their footsteps echoing strangely in the silence. Nothing lived here—no plants, no animals, not even bacteria. Svartalfheim had been scoured clean by the war that destroyed its people, leaving nothing but ruins and decay.
Back on Asgard, chaos reigned.
The alarm had brought every guard in the palace running, but by the time they reached the storage facility, the escapees were already gone. The pursuit vessels had lost them at the dimensional barrier, unable to follow through the hidden passage.
Odin stood in his throne room, his face a mask of barely controlled rage as reports came in. His son, his heir, had committed treason. Stolen a dark-elf ship and taken prisoners with him. He’d fled to only he and his companions knew where with the Aether and the mortal woman who carried it.
“Find them,” he ordered severely, his voice like grinding stone. “Search every realm. Turn over every rock. I want them found and brought back to face justice.”
“Yes, All-Father,” the captain of the guard said, bowing low before hurrying off to implement the orders.
Odin turned to his remaining advisors. “How did this happen? How did the prisoners escape from the most secure facility in Asgard?”
Nobody had answers. Or rather, nobody had answers they were willing to voice.
The sound of heavy footsteps made them turn. A squad of Einherjar entered, escorting a figure in shackles.
Heimdall.
The gatekeeper walked with dignity despite his bonds, his all-seeing eyes meeting Odin’s without flinching.
“You,” Odin said, his voice dropping to something even more dangerous than rage. “You helped them.”
“I did not, All-Father,” Heimdall replied calmly.
“Do not lie to me!” Odin thundered. “You are the only one who could have told them about that passage! The only one who could have seen them leave without raising the alarm!”
“I saw them leave, yes. But I raised no alarm because I believed—believe—that they’re doing what must be done.”
The throne room went deadly silent at that. Odin looked ready to pop, if the color of his face was anything to go by.
“You dare—“
“I dare to speak truth, All-Father,” Heimdall said calmly. “Your son is not betraying Asgard. He is trying to save it. He is trying to save all the realms.”
“He’s a traitor! He’s violated every law, broken every oath—“
“He is acting while we sit paralyzed by grief and fear.” Heimdall’s voice remained steady, completely unafraid. “Queen Frigga would have understood. I think, in your heart, you understand too.”
“How dare you speak of my wife—“
“Someone must, All-Father,” Heimdall said with nothing but respect, but it sounded like an affront to Odin. “Someone must remind you that she died protecting those who could not protect themselves. That she would want us to act, not huddle behind barriers while the universe burns.”
A vein popped on Odin’s forehead, his face purple with rage. “Take him to the dungeons. Charge him with treason. He’ll stand trial when this is over.”
The Einherjar moved to comply, and Heimdall showed no resistance. As they led him away, he spoke one last time.
“They’ll succeed, All-Father. Your son will save us all, despite your efforts to stop him.”
The doors closed behind them, leaving Odin alone with his anger and his grief. He sat heavily on his throne, his lips thin as he stared ahead severely. There was rage, yes, but as he sat, there was also a growing feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, he’d made a terrible mistake. That he was in the wrong.
But he was the All-Father. He couldn’t admit error. He couldn’t show weakness. So instead, he doubled down.
“Continue the search,” he ordered firmly. “And when you find them, bring them back in chains.”
XXXXX
The ruins were indeed what had once been a palace. They found it after an hour of careful navigation through the dead city, following signs of recent disturbances. They found scorch marks that looked fresh and equipment that hadn’t yet been claimed by Svartalfheim’s corrosive atmosphere.
“Someone’s been here recently,” Diana observed, examining the traces.
“Malekith,” Thor said with certainty.
“Then we’re close.”
They entered the palace through a collapsed wall, finding themselves in what must have once been a grand hall. Now it was just broken stone and shadows, but there were signs of recent occupation. There were makeshift sleeping areas, equipment scattered about, and even traces of what they could identify as Dark Elf technology.
“They were here,” Loki confirmed, examining a half-dismantled device. “But they left. Maybe hours ago, maybe days. Hard to tell.”
Suddenly, Jane collapsed.
Thor caught her before she hit the ground, but she was convulsing now, the Aether’s power erupting from her in waves of destructive energy.
“It’s accelerating,” Sylvie said, moving to help. “The journey through dimensional space must have destabilized the containment.”
“Can you help her?” Thor demanded.
“I can try.” Sylvie placed her hands on Jane’s chest, magic flowing into the mortal woman in an attempt to stabilize the Aether. “But Thor, this is beyond my abilities. She needs—“
“I know what she needs. She needs Malekith dead and the Aether removed from her body.”
“Which requires finding Malekith.”
“Then we find him.” Thor looked around at the others. “We came here to end this. So let’s end it.”
Clark stepped forward. “I can search from the air. Cover more ground faster than any of us on foot.”
“The atmosphere’s toxic up there,” Sif warned.
“I’ve survived worse. And if Malekith’s here, I’ll find him.”
Diana nodded. “I’ll go with him. Two sets of eyes are better than one.”
“The rest of us’ll make camp here,” Thor decided. “Get Jane stabilized as much as possible. When you find Malekith, come back and we’ll plan the assault.”
“And if he finds us first?” Loki asked.
“Then we improvise.”
Clark and Diana left through the ruined wall, launching themselves into Svartalfheim’s dark sky. The others watched them go, then turned their attention to making the ruins as defensible as possible.
Jane had stopped convulsing, but she was barely conscious now, her breathing shallow and her skin burning hot.
“Talk to me,” Thor said softly, sitting beside her. “Stay with me.”
“Trying,” she whispered. “Hard... to think. The Aether... it’s showing me things.”
“What things?”
“Realities. Other timelines. Worlds that could be. Worlds that were.” Her eyes focused on his with difficulty. “Thor, it’s so much bigger than we thought. The Aether’s not just a weapon. It’s... it’s a key. A way to rewrite existence itself.”
“That’s what Malekith wants.”
“Yeah, but... but what if he’s right?”
“Jane—“
“Not about destroying the universe. But about it being broken. About reality needing to change.” She gripped his hand weakly. “I can see it, Thor. I can see all the ways things could be different. Better. And it’s tempting. God, it’s so tempting.”
“That’s the Aether talking. Not you.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s showing me truth.”
Sif knelt beside them. “Jane, listen to me. The Aether’s power is seductive. It’ll show you what you want to see, promise you what you want to hear. But it’s a lie. Reality isn’t broken. It’s just... messy. Complicated. But that’s what makes it worth fighting for.”
Jane looked at her with surprising clarity. “You sound like you’ve been there.”
“I have been brought up on tales. Stories that consisted of infinite timelines, infinite possibilities. I didn’t understand it at first, but when I did, it almost drove me half-mad whenever I was trying to figure out which one would be ‘right.’ It took me too long to realize that none of them were. And all of them were.”
“How do you choose?”
“You choose the one you’re in. The people you love. The moment you’re living.” Sylvie interjected as she walked over and smiled sadly. “It’s not poetic, but it’s true.”
Jane was quiet for a moment, processing their words, and finally, she nodded weakly. “Okay. Okay, I’ll try.”
They settled into the ruins as best they could, clearing debris and creating something that resembled defensible positions.
Jane lay on a makeshift bed they’d assembled from salvaged materials, her breathing more stable now that Sylvie had managed to contain the Aether’s worst fluctuations. Thor remained at her side, refusing to leave.
Loki watched his brother with an expression that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. He leaned against a broken column, arms crossed, and finally broke the silence.
“You know, brother, I’m starting to think you have a type.”
Thor glanced up, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come now.” Loki gestured vaguely toward Jane, then toward Sif, who was checking their perimeter. “The mortal scientist who carries the Aether in her body and the warrior goddess who can match you blow for blow. Both of whom you’re clearly devoted to in ways that would make a romantic poet weep.”
Sif returned just in time to catch the comment. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, though her lips twitched slightly.
Thor raised an eyebrow. “Being quite poetic yourself, brother. I don’t believe it suits the moment.”
“Doesn’t it though?” Loki’s grin widened. “The way you look at the mortal like she hung the stars, and the way you and Sif look like you share one mind. It’s positively scandalous.”
“I care about them both,” Thor said firmly. “There’s nothing improper about that.”
“Oh, I never said improper.” Loki examined his fingernails with exaggerated nonchalance. “Just... complicated. And potentially awkward at family gatherings.”
Thor stood, his jaw set in a way that screamed he was done with this conversation. “And I suppose you’re going to lecture me about appropriate relationships? You? Someone who’s been having relations with his own twin sister?”
Loki’s grin didn’t falter for even a second.
“Touché, brother,” Loki said smoothly. “Though I prefer to think of it as appreciating fine craftsmanship. After all, we’re both products of excellent genetics.”
Sylvie threw a piece of rubble at him. It bounced off his shoulder harmlessly. “You’re too much sometimes.”
“I’m quite adequate,” Loki smirked. “There’s a difference.”
“There really isn’t,” Sif interjected, her voice dry. “Not in your case.”
Loki placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me, Lady Sif. Here I thought we were becoming friends.”
“We’re allies of convenience,” Sif replied. “Now there’s a difference.”
“So many differences today,” Loki mused. “It’s almost like the universe is trying to tell us something.”
Thor shook his head, but there was the ghost of a smile on his face now. Despite everything they’d been through, despite the danger they were in and the impossible odds they faced, Loki could still make him almost smile. That had always been his gift, the ability to find humor even when surrounded by darkness.
“You’re incorrigible,” Thor said finally.
“I prefer ‘charmingly roguish,’ but I’ll accept incorrigible as a close second.” Loki pushed off from the column. “Besides, someone has to maintain morale in this dismal place. Might as well be me.”
“Morale,” Sif repeated skeptically. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“Among other things.” Loki pulled out one of the few rations they’d managed to salvage from the ship. “Anyone hungry? I’ve got something that’s only mostly expired.”
“I’ll pass,” Sif said immediately.
“Your loss.” Loki took a bite, made a face, then swallowed anyway. “Actually, no. You made the right choice.”
Jane stirred on her makeshift bed, her eyes opening slowly. The red light beneath her skin had dimmed to a faint glow, but it was still visible in the darkness. “Are you all always like this?”
“Like what?” Thor asked, immediately attentive.
“Bickering like children while the universe burns around you.”
“It’s how we cope,” Sif explained. “Well, how they cope. I just tolerate it.”
“She’s lying,” Loki said cheerfully. “She loves it. The bickering, the chaos, all of it. She’d be bored to tears otherwise.”
Sif didn’t dignify that with a response, but her silence spoke volumes.
Jane tried to sit up, and Thor helped her, supporting her weight as she found her balance. The Aether’s energy pulsed once, then settled. “How long was I out?”
“About an hour,” Sylvie answered. “The containment is holding, but it’s fragile. We’re buying time, not solving the problem.”
“I know.” Jane’s voice was steady despite her obvious exhaustion. “I can feel it. The Aether wants to be used. It’s not content to just sit inside me and wait.”
“Then we’ll make sure it doesn’t have to wait much longer,” Thor said. “Kal-El and Diana will find Malekith, and then we’ll end this.”
“Yeah, right,” Loki scoffed derisively, but they ignored him.
“You make it sound so simple,” Jane said softly.
“It won’t be simple,” Thor admitted. “But it will be done.”
Loki wandered over to one of the ruined windows, staring out at the desolate landscape. The darkness of Svartalfheim was something else, a void that seemed to swallow everything. He’d seen many worlds in his travels, but few felt as fundamentally hostile to life as this one.
“Do you think they succeeded?” Sylvie asked, joining him at the window.
“They’re still searching,” Loki replied quietly. “But…”
“But?”
“But Malekith is no fool. He’s survived this long by being clever, by understanding the Aether’s power better than anyone else alive. He won’t be found unless he wants to be found.”
“Then we wait.”
“Then we wait.”
Two hours passed in tense silence. They took turns watching the perimeter, eating what little food they had, and trying to rest despite the impossibility of actually sleeping. Jane drifted in and out of consciousness, the Aether’s power waxing and waning within her in unpredictable cycles.
Thor hadn’t left her side except to relieve himself, and even then he’d been reluctant. Sif had taken up a position near the entrance, her sword across her lap and her eyes constantly scanning the darkness beyond. Loki and Sylvie had found a spot where they could see both approaches to the palace, speaking in low voices about contingencies and backup plans.
Then Thor felt it.
A shift in the air, a change in the fundamental texture of reality itself. He stood quickly, his hand going to Mjolnir.
“What is it?” Sif asked, already on her feet.
“Something’s coming.”
Loki and Sylvie felt it too. They abandoned their posts and joined the others, forming a loose circle around Jane. The sensation grew stronger, a pressure building in the atmosphere like an approaching storm.
Then they heard it. The low hum of engines cutting through the silence, growing louder with each passing second.
A ship descended from the darkness above, its hull black as the void between stars. It was sleek and predatory, built for war and nothing else. The Dark Elf ship settled onto the ruins with barely a whisper, its landing struts extending to grip the broken stone.
“Malekith,” Thor grunted.
The ship’s ramp extended, and figures emerged from within. First came the soldiers, Dark Elves in their distinctive armor, moving with military precision as they took up positions around the ship. Then came a massive figure that could only be Kurse, the lieutenant whose strength was said to rival Thor’s own.
And finally, Malekith himself.
The Dark Elf leader was tall and gaunt, his face marked with ancient scars and his eyes burning with an intensity that was almost palpable. He wore armor that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, and he moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how dangerous he was.
“Asgardians,” Malekith said, his voice carrying easily across the ruins. “And others. How delightful.”
“Malekith.” Thor stepped forward, Mjolnir in hand. “This ends now.”
“Does it?” Malekith smiled, though there was no warmth in the expression. “I rather think it’s only beginning. You’ve brought the Aether to me. Saved me the trouble of hunting it down. For that, I thank you.”
“You’ll never take it,” Thor said flatly.
“Won’t I?” Malekith’s gaze shifted to Jane, and his smile widened. “I can feel it from here. The Reality Stone, burning inside your mortal companion. She’s dying, you know. The Aether is consuming her from within. Every moment that passes brings her closer to annihilation.”
“Then take it,” Jane said suddenly, surprising everyone. She pushed herself to her feet despite Thor’s protests. “Come on. Take it and end this.”
“Jane, no,” Thor began, but she shook her head.
“I’m done being the damsel in distress. If he wants the Aether so badly, let him try to take it.”
Malekith laughed, a sound like wind through dead trees. “Brave words from a dying woman. But unnecessary. I will take what is mine, with or without your permission.”
He raised one hand, and the air around Jane began to ripple. She gasped as the Aether responded, the red energy surging through her body with renewed violence. Thor moved to help her, but Kurse was faster, intercepting him with a blow that sent him flying backward, and thus, the battle began.
Sif engaged the Dark Elf soldiers, her blade moving in precise arcs that left bodies in her wake. Loki and Sylvie worked in tandem, their magic creating illusions and barriers that confused and delayed Malekith’s forces. Thor regained his feet and went after Kurse, Mjolnir meeting the lieutenant’s massive fists in exchanges that shook the ruins.
But Malekith ignored them all. His focus remained on Jane, on the Aether, on the prize he’d sought for so long.
Jane fell to her knees, screaming as the extraction began. The Aether fought to remain inside her, but Malekith’s will was stronger. Red energy began to flow from her body toward him, streams of reality-warping power that left trails of altered space in their wake.
“Stop!” Thor roared, trying to break free from Kurse. But the lieutenant was relentless, matching him blow for blow and giving no ground.
Loki exchanged a glance with Sylvie who gave him a smirk. This was it. The moment they’d planned for.
He turned toward Thor, raised his hand, and conjured a blade of green energy.
“You’re still an idiot, brother,” he said and drove the blade into Thor’s side.
Thor’s eyes went wide with shock and betrayal. He staggered, Mjolnir falling from his grip as he clutched at the wound. Kurse stopped his assault, stepping back in confusion.
“Loki,” Thor gasped. “What have you done?”
“What I had to,” Loki replied, his voice steady and his eyes glinting. “Sylvie?”
Sylvie was already moving. She conjured restraints around Sif, binding the warrior before she could react. The illusions she’d been maintaining vanished, revealing that half the Dark Elf soldiers they’d been fighting were never really there.
“The Aether, Malekith,” Loki called out. “Take it, and we have a deal.”
Malekith paused in his extraction, regarding Loki with calculating eyes. “The trickster shows his true colors. I wondered when you would reveal yourself.”
“Better late than never.” Loki walked forward, leaving Thor bleeding on the ground. “You get the Aether. We get to walk away.”
Malekith resumed the extraction, pulling the last of the Aether from Jane’s body. She collapsed, unconscious, as the red energy coalesced into a sphere between the Dark Elf’s hands.
Malekith closed his hands around the Aether, and it flowed into him like water. His body began to change, dark energy spreading across his skin in patterns.
That’s when the sky tore open.
Clark arrived first, moving faster than sound, his fist aimed directly at Malekith’s face. Diana came right behind him, her sword already descending toward the sphere of Aether energy that hovered between the Dark Elf’s hands.
“Now!” Clark shouted.
They’d theorized that the Aether could only be destroyed in the moment of transition, when it was neither fully contained nor fully released. This was that moment.
Diana’s blade struck the energy sphere with all her divine strength behind it. Clark’s heat vision joined her strike, energy that could melt steel focusing on a single point. The Aether screamed, reality itself protesting the assault.
But it didn’t break.
The sphere cracked, fractures spreading across its surface like lightning through glass. But it didn’t break. The Aether’s power was too fundamental, too intrinsic to the fabric of existence itself. It couldn’t be destroyed, only changed.
And Malekith understood that better than any of them.
He laughed as he seized the fractured Aether, pulling it into himself before Diana could strike again. The energy flooded through him, transforming him, elevating him to something beyond mortal comprehension. His body became shadow and substance simultaneously, reality warping around him in visible waves.
“Fools,” he said, and his voice now hurt to hear. “The Aether cannot be destroyed. It can only be wielded. And I am its master.”
He raised one hand, and the ruins around them began to change. Stone flowed like water. The air itself crystallized into impossible geometries. Reality was his to command now, and he wielded that power with terrifying ease.
“Retreat!” Diana ordered, grabbing Jane’s unconscious form. “We can’t fight him like this!”
Clark moved to help Thor, but Kurse intercepted him, the lieutenant’s enhanced strength proving enough to slow even the Kryptonian. They clashed in a blur of movement, each blow capable of leveling buildings.
Malekith began to open a portal, preparing his escape. He’d won. He had the Aether, had the power he’d sought for millennia. There was nothing left for him here.
But Thor wasn’t done.
Despite his wound, despite the betrayal, he forced himself to his feet. Mjolnir flew to his hand, answering his call even in his weakened state. He raised the hammer high and brought down lightning, not on Malekith, but on the portal itself.
The dimensional gateway destabilized, its edges flickering and warping. Malekith snarled and reinforced it with the Aether’s power, but the damage was done. The portal was failing, collapsing even as he tried to stabilize it.
“Kurse!” Malekith commanded. “To me!”
The lieutenant abandoned his fight with Clark and sprinted toward his master. But he didn’t go alone. As he passed Loki, still standing near Thor, the trickster moved.
Not to attack Kurse. But to save Thor.
He saw it in the same instant everyone else did. The portal’s collapse was sending out waves of unstable energy, reality itself fragmenting in the backlash. One of those waves was headed directly for Thor, still weak from the wound Loki had given him.
Loki moved without thinking. He threw himself between his brother and the blast, his magic flaring to create a shield. But Kurse saw the movement, and he understood what it meant.
Loki had betrayed Thor only to distract him, and in his confusion, he had stopped from delivering the killing blow.
Not anymore.
Kurse’s fist caught Loki in the chest before he could finish. The impact drove the air from his lungs and sent him flying backward. He hit the ground hard, felt something inside him break, and tasted blood.
The lieutenant didn’t stop. He grabbed Loki by the throat and lifted him like he weighed nothing.
“Trickster,” Kurse growled and threw Loki through the failing portal.
“No!” Sylvie screamed, abandoning her position and diving after her brother. They both disappeared into the collapsing gateway, lost in the spaces between realities.
Thor’s eyes widened in chock, and he roared and threw Mjolnir with all his remaining strength. The hammer caught Kurse in the side, finally bringing the lieutenant down. Alas, it was too late. The portal snapped shut with a sound like the universe tearing, and Malekith was gone.
Gone with the Aether. Gone with his victory. And Loki and Sylvie were lost, disappeared behind the unstable portal somewhere else.
The ruins fell silent except for the sound of Thor’s ragged breathing. He dropped to his knees, his hand pressed against the wound Loki had given him. The blade had been an illusion, the injury carefully controlled to appear fatal without being so, but it still hurt.
Diana knelt beside him with Jane still unconscious in her arms. “Thor?”
“He saved me,” Thor said quietly. “At the end, Loki saved me.”
“He was playing his part,” Sif said, though her voice lacked its usual certainty. “The betrayal was planned.”
“The save wasn’t,” Clark pointed out. “If it had been, Kurse wouldn’t have reacted the way he did.”
Thor looked up at the sky where the portal had been. Somewhere out there, lost in the infinite spaces between realities, his brother was dying and his sister was with him. And there was nothing he could do about it.
“We failed,” he said finally. “Malekith has the Aether. Loki might be dead, and he and Sylvie are gone. We failed.”
“We’re still alive,” Diana said firmly. “Which means we can still fight.”
“With what?” Thor gestured around at the ruins and at Jane’s unconscious form. “We have nothing.”
“We have each other,” Clark said. “That’s not nothing.”
Thor wanted to argue, wanted to rage against the universe and everything that had brought them to this moment. But he was too tired, too hurt, and too aware of how completely they’d been outmaneuvered.
So instead, he simply nodded and let Diana help him to his feet. They’d lost this battle. Malekith had won. But the war wasn’t over yet.
XXXXX
Somewhere in the darkness of a realm unidentified, in the spaces between realities, Loki gasped for breath and felt his life bleeding away. He’d known the risks. He’d accepted them. But knowing you might die and actually dying were two very different things.
Sylvie found him in the void, her magic anchoring them both before they could be lost forever. “You idiot,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “You absolute idiot.”
“Had to,” Loki managed, blood on his lips. “He would have died.”
“And now you’re dying instead.”
“Better me than him.” Loki’s eyes were starting to close. “Tell him I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Tell him yourself.” Sylvie began working frantically, her magic trying to stabilize his wounds. But there was so much damage, and they were lost in the void with no way back known.
“Sylvie,” Loki whispered. “I can’t feel my legs.”
“Don’t you dare,” she commanded, her voice breaking. “Don’t you dare die on me. You hear?”
But Loki’s eyes were already closing, his breathing shallow and irregular.
“Loki,” Sylvie shook him, tears falling freely as she frantically worked to heal him. She saw his eyes close and her own eyes widened. “Loki!” She screamed, her voice lost in the echoes.
To be continued…