I Can Save Her

He was nothing but a clown. Everything he had experienced—success or failure, restraint or outburst—had all been meticulously arranged. Even his thoughts, the ideals he clung to, had been deliberately cultivated. Such a fate sounded rather tragic.

But Malekith thought none of that mattered! In fact, he was a little excited.

What was wrong with acting? What was wrong with being a clown? Did they know who the audience was this time? It was Nyarlathotep, messenger of the core of Primordial Chaos and one of the Three Pillars! The fact that such a being was willing to carefully cultivate an actor like him and watch with interest as they performed tragicomedies with their lives meant it thought highly of them! It was an honor!

Malekith had already made up his mind. He had to perform this play well, make it spectacular! As long as he pleased that great being, never mind coming over to tip him, cast a monthly vote, or send a gift—just a shout of "Nice, bro, 666," and a tiny bit slipped from between its fingernails would be enough for his race to benefit from forever!

What a wonderful opportunity! How could ordinary people ever hope to obtain one? Wait, that was right. The Dark Elves called themselves children of darkness, while that great being was known as a Dweller in Darkness, so this was... this was their mother!

What did it matter now if they turned the entire universe into darkness? What they should strive for now was to throw themselves into their mother's embrace!

With that thought, Malekith stopped hesitating. Taking three quick steps, he practically bounced over like a ballet dancer to Frigga, who was lying on the ground. He knelt on one knee, took one of her hands, composed his expression, and said,