Jane's finger twitched again.
This time, it wasn't a slight tremor, but a slow curl, as if testing control of her muscles. Ye Mo stared at the movement, his back teeth clenched, his fingers unconsciously rubbing against his glasses frame. He didn't move, and neither did Emma Frost. The two sat against the wall, their breathing extremely light, as if even the slightest movement would awaken something that shouldn't be awakened.
The workshop was eerily quiet. The barrier was so thick that even the air seemed to have solidified, and the sliver of morning light that had been filtering through the cracks in the ceiling was now completely sealed off by the dark purple energy shell. The cracks in the ground were still spreading, but the rhythm had changed—no longer spreading randomly, but rather spreading outwards in neat concentric circles centered on Jane, like some kind of ritualistic rune array.
"It's waiting," Ye Mo whispered, his voice almost lip-reading, "Not waiting for us to make a mistake... it's waiting for guidance."
Emma Frost leaned against his right shoulder; her nosebleed had stopped, but her face was pale and her fingertips were icy. She didn't look up, only giving a soft "hmm," as if afraid that speaking loudly would trigger some chain reaction.
Just then, the air collapsed.
It wasn't a vibration or a sound, but rather the light itself being torn open. The floor tiles in front of the central platform caved in without warning, forming a circular black spot two meters in diameter. The black spot didn't reflect any light, and even the surrounding purplish-black energy streams retreated rapidly as if encountering a natural enemy when they approached.
Immediately afterwards, a foot stepped out.
The moment the boots touched the ground, cracks automatically spread outwards as if kneeling. The newcomer was nearly two meters tall, his entire body wrapped in armor woven from shadows. Each plate of armor seemed to be sculpted from condensed night, its edges gleaming with a cold, metallic sheen. The cloak that hung down was not cloth, but a slowly flowing mass of darkness, writhing along the ground like a living thing.
He looked up.
Beneath the hood, a pair of eyes burned with a ghostly purple flame, without pupils, only two flickering wicks. His gaze swept over Ye Mo, over Emma Frost, and finally landed on Jane, the corners of his mouth slowly curving into an arc—not a smile, but more like the twitching of muscles in some ancient creature before it bares its fangs.
"Mortals," he spoke, his voice seeming to come from the depths of the earth, echoing deeply, each syllable causing the air to tremble slightly, "Daring to tamper with the legacy of the night."
Ye Mo didn't say anything, his hand quietly reaching for the multi-tool knife in his work pants pocket. The screwdriver head from before had melted and was ruined, but he still had a pair of folding pliers. Although they couldn't fight, they could at least serve as a psychological comfort.
Emma Frost tried to push herself up, but an invisible pressure pressed her back down as soon as she raised her hand. She groaned, her forehead touching the ground, her fingers gripping Ye Mo's clothes.
"Don't move," Ye Mo said in a low voice. "This thing moves with a rule-based suppression. Your mental energy is like a tattered fishing net right now; if you touch it again, it'll be riddled with holes."
Malekith walked slowly forward, each step deepening the cracks in the ground, as dark energy surged in all directions along his boot tracks. He stopped three meters away from Jane, raised his hand, palm up. A wisp of purplish-black light was forcibly extracted from Jane's body, twisting into threads in the air before wrapping around his fingertips.
" The Aether... has slumbered for millennia," he murmured, his voice tinged with an almost devout fervor. "It does not belong to the light of this era, nor to you ants hiding in steel and circuits."
Ye Mo finally spoke, "Then what are you? A thousand-year-old zombie? Or someone who's been clubbing for too long and hasn't been home yet?"
Malekith slowly turned his head, his gaze locking onto Ye Mo. In that instant, Ye Mo felt as if his head had been hit by a hammer, his temples throbbing and his eardrums ringing. He gritted his teeth and held on, not closing his eyes.
"Stubbornness is just a fig leaf for the weak," Malekith sneered. "You think you're fighting fate? You're just prolonging your struggle before death."
"Hey, I know that line well." Ye Mo grinned, deliberately showing off his white teeth. "Every time Tony's armor explodes, he says it's because I had a loose tongue. Look at me now, I'm living a pretty good life, aren't I?"
As he spoke, he glanced around out of the corner of his eye. The barrier remained impenetrable, but the edge of the spot where Malekith had appeared—the black spot—was slightly undulating, as if the structure of reality had not yet fully healed. He noted that spot down.
Malekith ignored him and turned to face Jane. He raised his arms and uttered a string of obscure syllables, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between his bones. As the incantation began, Jane's body began to float slowly, half a meter off the ground, her limbs outstretched as if suspended by invisible threads.
The purplish-black aura around her body fluctuated violently, gradually resonating with the darkness surrounding Malekith. Strands of energy were drawn from her body and flowed into his outstretched arms, coalescing into a constantly rotating dark vortex.
"He's synchronizing," Emma Frost suddenly said, her voice hoarse. "Not taking over... it's merging. He's turning himself into a new vessel."
"And then?" Ye Mo stared at the vortex. "Hold a Dark Elves -themed light show? Or are you planning to send a message to the entire universe—'The King has returned, come and pay homage!'"
"You're being noisy." Malekith turned around abruptly and waved his right hand.
A black streak lashed out like a whip, too fast to react in time. Ye Mo instinctively dodged to the side, but his left arm was still grazed. The sleeve of his work clothes instantly charred, revealing the charred skin underneath. A searing pain shot through him immediately, but he didn't cry out. He just groaned and rolled away to create distance.
"Damn!" he swung his hand. "These days, villains don't even give warnings, they just start attacking without warning?"
Emma Frost struggled to stand up, but just as she was halfway up, Malekith's eyes narrowed, and she was sent flying backward as if hit by a boulder, her back slamming against the inner wall of the barrier with a dull thud.
"Don't touch her!" Ye Mo suddenly looked up, grabbed the utility knife with only the pliers head left on the ground, and made as if to rush forward.
Malekith simply stared at him coldly, as if he were a moth drawn to a flame.
"Your very existence is a desecration of the night." His voice was calm, yet more oppressive than any roar. "I haven't killed you because you're not worth wasting a single inch of darkness."
After he finished speaking, he stopped looking at Ye Mo and turned back to Jian. The energy vortex had expanded to the height of a person, with electric arcs flashing inside and emitting a low-frequency hum. He slowly inserted his hands into the center of the vortex, and his body began to be enveloped in darkness. Layers of armor reassembled, and his outline became even more ferocious.
Ye Mo was panting, his left arm burning with pain, but he ignored it. He stared at Malekith's back, then glanced at the still-healing black spot at the entrance. He knew that rushing in now would be suicide, but he also knew that once this guy completed the fusion, the three of them wouldn't even be left with ashes.
"System," he muttered to himself, "Is there even the slightest hint? Like 'escaping is recommended' or 'a powerful figure has been detected, playing dead is recommended'?"
My mind was completely silent.
Even that gray-on-black notification didn't reappear.
He looked down at his hands; the electric arc in his palm had failed to ignite. It wasn't that he lacked the ability, but rather that the environment had been completely rewritten, and even the concept of "electricity" had been suppressed to its limit.
"Fine," he gritted his teeth. "Those with thick skin aren't afraid of being sleepy, they're afraid of running out of jokes."
He slowly straightened up, dusted off his pants, cleared his throat, and called out to Malekith's retreating figure, "Hey! Dude! That leather jacket of yours must be expensive, right? Are you dressed so conservatively because you're afraid we'll find out you're balding underneath?"
Malekith paused for a moment.
Ye Mo's heart tightened, knowing he had made the right bet—this guy, though strong, wasn't completely immune to interference. He continued, "And another thing, you said this Aether is a family heirloom, so why did you have to steal someone else's body? Don't you have a body yourself or what? Were you an inflatable doll in your past life that deflated?"
Before he could finish speaking, Malekith suddenly turned around, his eyes blazing with purple flames, and with a flick of his right hand, a black beam several times thicker than before shot straight at him.
Ye Mo was prepared. He grabbed Emma Frost, who was still leaning against the wall, and the two rolled to the side together. The black light grazed past them, struck the barrier behind them, and exploded into a ball of pitch-black flames. Wherever it passed, the ground was corroded into a deep pit, and smoke was still rising from the edges.
"Could you be a little gentler next time?" Emma Frost gasped. "Are you trying to provoke him, or do you want us to get killed off early?"
"Of course, it's to distract him." Ye Mo wiped his face. "You saw him pause for half a second just now, which means he has something to hide. Narcissistic villains like him are most afraid of having their shortcomings exposed, especially regarding their hairstyle, physique, or the source of their fighting power."
Emma Frost rolled her eyes. "You really think he's a troll from Tieba?"
"Essentially the same." Ye Mo squinted at Malekith, "They both think they're invincible, only to have their defenses shattered by a netizen's comment, 'Your mom's calling you home for dinner.'"
Malekith stood still, not giving chase. He slowly raised his hand, and a spinning dark sphere condensed in his palm, with arcs of electricity crackling inside, emitting a teeth-grinding sizzling sound.
"Struggle," he whispered, "Even one last glimpse of the light before the end."
With a flick of his arm, the black sphere exploded, transforming into a surging dark wave that swept towards Ye Mo and Emma Frost's location.
Ye Mo's pupils contracted, and he tackled Emma Frost to the ground, rolling over on the spot. The waves swept past his back, and he felt a burning sensation on his back; his hoodie was burned through, and his skin stung. He gritted his teeth and held on, looking up.
Malekith had returned to Jane, his hands once again plunging into the energy vortex. The fusion process continued, his figure growing ever larger in the darkness, ancient runes appearing and disappearing on the surface of his armor.
Ye Mo lay on the ground, his left arm charred black, his back burning with pain, and his mouth filled with the taste of rust. He gasped for breath, looking at the black spot that was not yet fully closed.
"Looks like... I have no choice but to take a gamble," he said in a low voice.
Emma Frost, lying beside him, turned her head with difficulty. "You've got another bad idea?"
"It's not a bad idea." He grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, despite wincing in pain. "It's a classic tactic—attack him from behind while he's focused on his task."
"What are you going to use to launch a sneak attack? A pair of useless pliers?" she sneered.
"No." Ye Mo slowly pulled the torn piece of reflective film from his pocket, holding it between his fingers. "I'll take this."
He stared at the subtle ripples at the edge of the black spot, holding his breath.
Just wait three more seconds.
three.
two.
The darkness surrounding Malekith suddenly surged, engulfing the entire workshop in a deathly silence.