Asgard's outer city had descended into utter chaos.
Several battered Dark Elf single-pilot skiffs trailed thick smoke as they crashed at an angle through an arch bridge built of white stone. At the other end, Thor fought alongside Asgard's guards with bloodshot eyes, thick arcs of lightning streaking wildly across half the sky.
Malekith scrambled desperately over the rubble.
Although dark matter had temporarily sealed the wound on his right arm, the broken ends of the bone throbbed viciously with every step. Worse still, the Aether was gone. It had been the Dark Elves' only hope of turning things around, and now they had come away with nothing.
"Damn that Midgard mortal... damn Odin..."
Malekith's teeth ground audibly as he cursed nonstop.
As long as he could escape to the mothership and hide in the darkness of deep space, he still had a chance to rise again. The Nine Realms Alignment had not completely passed yet. At worst, he could sleep another five thousand years and wait for the next cycle. As long as he lived, there was still hope of turning things around.
Two hundred meters ahead, a black, cross-shaped assault ship parked at the edge of the square was slowly opening its hatch.
A glimmer of hope had just lit Malekith's eyes when the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end.
Hum!
The air behind him vibrated strangely. Malekith did not even need to look back. With the Dark Elves' innate sensitivity to spatial fluctuations, he knew who had caught up.
That demon from Midgard!
"You relentless pest!"
A vicious look flashed across Malekith's face, and he clenched his teeth. If he wanted to survive, he had to fight for his life.
Without the slightest hesitation, Malekith reached back and plucked the last two