The lightning gradually dissipated, leaving behind the lingering smell of burning and the acrid odor of ionization. The electrical patterns on Ye Mo's left arm had extinguished, leaving his arm limp and powerless at his side. The remaining Steel Bone fragments in his right leg were still smoking, dripping debris. He tried to stand up, but his knees buckled, and he ended up kneeling on the ground, only managing to keep from collapsing completely by pressing his hands into the cracks in the concrete.
Thor wasn't in much better shape. Mjolnir was stuck in the ground, one hand gripping the handle, his chest heaving violently, his blond hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his armor torn in several places, and only half of his shoulder armor hanging down. He stared intently at the ruins, his gaze never wavering for a second.
Over there, the black mist slowly gathered, wrapping around Malekith's body like rags. Half of his body was charred black, and dark purple energy could be seen flowing beneath his skin. His movements were slow, but he was definitely moving. He straightened up, shrugged his shoulder, and made a cracking sound, as if his bones had been reset.
"I said..." Ye Mo gasped for breath, his voice hoarse like sandpaper, "How come these villains don't know when to stop? They're being beaten like this and they're still stubbornly holding on. Are you really not afraid of pain or are you out of your mind?"
Malekith ignored him, merely tilting his head slightly, his gaze sliding from Ye Mo to the corner—Jane Foster was sitting against the wall, pale-faced, breathing weakly, her lab coat stained with dust and blood. She had just been thrown back by the Quake, Emma Frost had rushed over to pull her back, now standing beside her, her silver hair disheveled, her fingers pinching her brow, her Mental Barrier not yet completely dispelled.
"Don't move," Emma Frost whispered, her eyes fixed on Malekith. "He's at his weakest right now. Don't give him a chance."
Ye Mo gritted his teeth and tried to stand up, but as soon as he exerted force with his right leg, a piece of Steel Bone broke off and bounced to the ground with a "clang". He cursed and used his left hand to barely lift his body a little.
Thor, having recovered, picked up his hammer and whispered, "He won't last much longer; one last blow will finish him off."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Malekith suddenly moved.
He didn't charge at them, but instead, he flashed along the ground, enveloped in black mist, moving like a shadow, so fast that only a blur remained. He bypassed their front and went straight for Jane in the corner.
"Stop him!" Ye Mo shouted, but it was too late. He tried to rush over, but his legs wouldn't obey him. He took a step, and the Steel Bone in his right leg shattered with a "crack," causing him to fall forward.
Emma Frost reacted the fastest, instantly locking onto Malekith's brain with her mental energy, preparing to forcefully interfere. But the instant her consciousness invaded, a cold, recoiling force slammed into her, as if someone had stabbed her temple with an iron rod. She groaned, staggered backward, and blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.
" Aether... backlash?" Her eyes widened, her hand still pressed against her forehead.
Malekith had already rushed in front of Jane and placed his hand on her chest. In that instant, a dark red, almost black, particle-like substance was forcibly extracted from Jane's body, writhing like a living thing as it flew into his palm. Jane arched her back violently, opened her mouth but could not make a sound, her eyes rolled back, and her whole body went limp.
"Jane!" Emma Frost rushed over to support her, almost falling down together.
Ye Mo watched the scene unfold, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked, his nails digging into his palms. He tried to crawl, but the distance was too great; he couldn't even roll. Thor hurled Mjolnir, but halfway through its flight, a ring of black runes suddenly appeared on the ground, creating a distorted energy field that deflected the hammer, sending it crashing into the wall beside him.
"A teleportation array?!" Ye Mo's heart sank.
Malekith glanced down at his palm; the Aether had already merged into his body. Black mist rapidly covered his entire body, and his injuries healed at a visible speed. He raised his hand, and a dark device on his wrist glowed with an eerie light. The rune array began to rotate, black light rose, and space distorted like ripples on water.
"Trying to leave?" Thor roared, rushing forward to interrupt the ceremony.
But it was too late.
The black light suddenly surged, forming a pillar of light that reached the sky and engulfed Malekith completely. He glanced at this side one last time, a cold smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, before his figure vanished completely, leaving only the charred rune array and the gradually dissipating mist.
Mjolnir's hammer fell to the ground with a loud thud.
The workshop fell silent instantly, save for the hissing of leaking air from the pipes and the distant dripping of water. Ye Mo was still kneeling on the ground, his right hand supporting him, his left hand hanging down, his fingertips less than two meters from the scorch mark. He was so close to touching it, so close to stopping it.
But now, everything is gone.
He slowly lowered his head, his forehead resting on his arm, panting heavily. Not from exhaustion, but from suffocation. A breath was stuck in his chest, neither rising nor falling, unable to be swallowed or exhaled. He could hear his teeth grinding, as if they were trying to bite through his head.
Thor stood there, staring at the circle of runes, his fists clenching tighter and tighter until his knuckles turned white. He walked over and kicked a piece of charred metal on the ground, sending it flying and shattering into pieces against the wall.
"Damn it!" He slammed his fist into the ground, sending the concrete cracking into a spiderweb pattern. "Just let him go like that? With the Aether? Odin will go crazy!"
Emma Frost didn't speak, but gently laid Jane down and checked her breathing. Jane was still breathing, but her face was deathly pale and her lips were purple, as if all her strength had been drained away. She looked up at Ye Mo, then at Thor, and said softly, "He planned it all out. From the beginning, he never intended to fight head-on."
"He knew we'd dominate him," Ye Mo finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "So he held back, waiting for us to relax, waiting for us to think we'd won... and then he went all in."
Thor, panting, bent down to pick up the hammer and shook off the dust. "He's been eyeing Jane for a while now. The three of us against him don't care; he's waiting for the right moment."
"We made a very basic mistake." Ye Mo slowly raised his head, his eyes frighteningly red. "We targeted him, forgetting that Jane was the key."
Emma Frost closed her eyes briefly. "I should have protected her the whole time. That attack just now... my Mental Barrier wasn't strong enough."
"It's not your fault," Ye Mo shook his head. "It's because he knows how to exploit loopholes too much. We were defending against the front, and he was attacking our base from the side. That maneuver was textbook perfect."
Thor slung the hammer over his shoulder, stared at the circle of runes for a long time, and suddenly asked, "Can this thing track?"
"No." Ye Mo tried to stand up, supporting himself on the ground, and only managed to straighten his back after two attempts. "This is an old technique of the Dark Elves, not a spatial jump or a wormhole. Nobody knows where he went."
"Then we can only wait for him to reappear?" Thor frowned deeply.
"Or he might come to us on his own." Ye Mo finally stood up. Although his right leg was completely useless, he supported himself with his left leg and left hand, and walked step by step to the edge of the rune array. He squatted down and reached out to touch the charred marks. The heat had dissipated, leaving only a little residual warmth.
"He won't hide for long," he said. " The Aether isn't a toy; once he takes it, he has to use it. And..." He paused, "He deliberately held back, just so we could see him take the particle. It's a provocation."
Emma Frost helped Jane to her feet, her voice turning colder. "He knew we would come after him."
"Not necessarily." Ye Mo stood up and glanced back at them. "He knows we'll panic. Right now, we're probably the only three in the world who know the Aether is missing. S.H.I.E.L.D.. doesn't know, Asgard doesn't know, and Tony certainly doesn't know. He's betting that we won't dare to make a fuss, afraid of causing panic."
Thor sneered, "So he figured we'd have no choice but to keep searching."
"That's right." Ye Mo looked down at his ruined right leg and sighed. "And now, I can't even run."
Emma Frost frowned. "You need to fix it."
"Can we afford to wait?" Ye Mo stared at the circle of runes, his eyes as dark as the bottom of a well. "He could make a move at any moment. We're here healing our legs, while he's out there causing big trouble. This isn't a good deal."
"So what do you plan to do?" Thor asked.
Ye Mo didn't answer, he just stood there, staring at the scorch mark, as if trying to see a hole through it. His fingers unconsciously tapped his left arm, where a lingering tingling sensation from the electric arc remained. The system gave no notification, nothing at all. He knew they had lost this battle.
They lost cleanly and decisively.
Thor walked over and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't just stand there daydreaming. We need to go back and figure something out."
"Back where?" Ye Mo smiled wryly, "Back to base? And then write a report saying, 'Sorry, we lost a cosmic-level dangerous item'?"
"It's better than just standing here doing nothing." Thor tugged at him. "Come on, let's get Jane out of here first. This place isn't safe."
Emma Frost was already helping Jane walk towards the exit, her steps steady. Ye Mo took one last look at the circle of runes, then turned and followed. He walked very slowly, his left leg dragging the remains of his right leg, each step scraping the ground with a slight sound.
At the workshop entrance, the wind blew in through the broken wall, ruffling the hem of his black hoodie. He stopped and glanced back.
The scorch mark was still there, shiny black, as if etched into the cement.
He gritted his teeth, said nothing, turned and walked out the door.
The wind picked up.