Joining forces to deal the enemy a crushing blow

Malekith's fingertips began to glow, black mist swirling in his palms like a mass of night compressed to its limit. Thor stood in the center of the scorched earth, Mjolnir pointing diagonally at the ground, electricity crackling and spreading along its shaft. Ye Mo leaned against a broken stone pillar, his right leg completely useless, his left shoulder still bleeding, but he didn't close his eyes. Instead, he braced himself with his left hand on the ground, forcefully pulling himself up from his sideways position.

"Old buddy, time to show your skills." His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear, as if he had rehearsed it countless times.

The moment he finished speaking, he slammed his hand on the ground. His Steel Bone Transformation left arm crashed into the metal plate with a deafening boom, sending Quake spreading in a ring and debris flying everywhere. This wasn't just to make a noise—it was a signal.

Malekith's pupils contracted slightly on the platform, and he instinctively turned towards the source of the sound. In that half-second of hesitation, Emma Frost opened her eyes.

She sat cross-legged three meters away, her hands clasped around her knees. Her originally pale face was now flushed with an eerie red, and the veins on her forehead throbbed slightly. Her spiritual energy, like a thin thread, silently probed through the air, penetrating the center of the churning black mist. The next instant, Malekith's vision shifted drastically: he was no longer standing there facing three intruders, but had returned to the Dark Elves homeworld a thousand years ago—the earth cracked, his people wailed, the sky was torn apart by enemy warships, and his throne collapsed with a deafening roar. A whisper echoed in his ear, "You've lost, Malekith. You've always been losing."

"No!" he roared, and the black mist violently shook, forcefully dispelling the illusion. But that momentary lapse in concentration slowed his movements by half a beat.

This was the moment Ye Mo had been waiting for.

He didn't expect to be able to charge in and fight head-on—in his current state, he'd trip over every two steps. But he could be a target, bait, or that annoying jerk that everyone hated but couldn't shake off.

"Oh my, you actually believe that?" Ye Mo grinned, his breath reeking of rust. "I thought villains like you were immune to Mind Stone attacks, but it turns out you're afraid of nightmares too?"

Malekith's eyes turned cold, and he raised his hand, unleashing a black blade that condensed into a spear shape, tearing through the air!

Ye Mo did not dodge.

His left arm instantly Steel Bone Transformation, the entire arm becoming a gleaming metallic structure. As the black blade stabbed towards him, he met it head-on, the blade piercing his forearm with a snap, sending him staggering backward as his back slammed against a stone pillar.

A sharp pain exploded within him, but instead he laughed, "Can you pull it out?"

The metal skeleton held the black blade firmly in place, refusing to budge. Ye Mo braced his shoulder against the pillar, forcefully locking the deadly weapon in his arm. Blood trickled down the wound, dripping onto the scorched earth and rising in white smoke.

On the high platform, Malekith's face was grim. He tried to pull back his weapon, but found that the black blade seemed to be welded into some kind of high-strength alloy, and he couldn't break free. To make matters worse, he realized that the interference in his mind hadn't completely dissipated— Emma Frost's mental pulses had turned into high-frequency oscillations, like a small hammer constantly knocking in the depths of his consciousness.

"Annoying..." He gritted his teeth, reached up to wipe his brow, and tried to calm himself down.

But just then, the ground lit up.

An arc of electricity exploded from beneath Thor's feet, spreading rapidly in a spiderweb pattern, instantly sealing off the four corners of the platform. The lightning net took shape, crackling and popping, turning the entire platform into a cage.

"Trying to run?" Thor sneered, leaping into the air with a powerful kick, his Mjolnir raised high above his head, crackling with electricity, as if divine punishment was descending.

Malekith finally panicked.

He suddenly waved his hand, and the black mist gathered into a shield, hovering above his head. But just as it took shape, it was disrupted by an even stronger mental shock from Emma Frost —in that instant, a crimson flashed before his eyes, as if a million needles were piercing his brain.

"Ugh--!"

It was that muffled groan.

Thor's hammer fell.

Boom!!!

Mjolnir slammed into the black mist shield with tremendous force, causing an energy explosion that shook the entire spaceship violently. The black mist shield shattered instantly, scattering fragments like Ashes. Immediately afterward, the edge of the hammer swept out, grazing Malekith's abdomen with a teeth-grinding tearing sound.

The black robe ripped open, and blood spurted out.

He staggered backward, kneeling on one knee, his left hand pressing tightly against the wound, blood seeping from between his fingers. The black mist that had enveloped his entire body thinned and crumbled, like dark clouds dampened by a downpour, no longer able to maintain its defensive posture.

"Cough..." He looked down at his hands, then looked up at Thor, a hint of wavering appearing in his eyes for the first time.

Not anger, not contempt, but shock.

He never expected that these invaders, whom he should have defeated one by one, could actually coordinate such a perfect attack.

Ye Mo leaned against a stone pillar, panting. The black blade was still embedded in his left arm, bleeding profusely. But looking at the kneeling figure on the platform, he laughed like a street urchin who had just won a five-cent bet, "See? I told you, the three of us together can crush any dissent."

Emma Frost didn't speak, but slowly lowered her hands from behind her head, her fingertips trembling slightly. The powerful interference just now had almost drained her mental energy, and there were even bloodshot streaks in the corners of her eyes. But she kept her eyes open, staring at Malekith, without backing down.

Thor landed, his hammer tip striking the ground, lightning still crackling across his skin. He looked at the enemy kneeling on the platform, his voice low but undeniably authoritative. "Your night is over, Malekith."

The wind rushed in through the damaged bulkhead, swirling scorched earth and metal fragments in the air. In the distance, the creaking of the loosened structure could be heard, as if this living spaceship itself was also terrified for its master.

Malekith slowly raised his hand and wiped the blood from his face, his knuckles turning white from the force. He didn't speak or stand up, but simply stared at the three of them, his eyes unfathomable.

Ye Mo twitched the corners of his mouth, wanting to say something witty to ease the atmosphere, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a metallic sweetness surged up, choking him and causing him to cough twice. The Steel Bone in his left arm began to degenerate, the metallic luster gradually fading, revealing a bloody and mangled wound underneath.

"Hiss... We made a profit this time, but the cost was a bit high," he muttered to himself.

Emma Frost heard him, glanced at him sideways, and her lips twitched, but she ultimately didn't smile. She was too tired, so tired that she couldn't even maintain a single expression.

Thor didn't turn around, but he knew what had happened to the two people behind him. He only stared ahead, at the figure that hadn't completely collapsed.

He knew the battle was not over yet.

Malekith was still breathing, still moving, still gathering power. No matter how badly he was injured, he was still the dark lord who once made the Nine Realms tremble.

But now, he is no longer invincible.

Three people, three different abilities, three separate attacks, each linked to the last, pulled him down from his pedestal.

Ye Mo used his body as Anchor to restrain the enemy, Emma Frost used her mental strength to tear through the defenses, Thor finished the fight with lightning speed—this was not a solo performance, but a genuine joint counterattack.

The wind picked up, making Thor's cloak flutter loudly. He gripped the hammer handle tighter and took a half-step forward.

Ye Mo leaned against the stone pillar, managing to sit up a little straighter. His right hand stealthily reached into his pocket for the Vibranium fragment—although the system hadn't reacted, he had to be prepared, just in case another wave came.

Emma Frost closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and once again gathered her remaining mental strength. She would not retreat, nor could she retreat.

On the high platform, Malekith slowly braced himself against the ground, trying to stand up. His left shoulder was dented, and the wound in his abdomen was so deep that bone was visible; each breath was accompanied by the sound of blood bubbles bursting. But he still moved.

He looked up at the three of them, his lips moving slightly as if he wanted to say something.

Thor raised his hammer, and lightning gathered once more.

Ye Mo opened his eyes and stared at the tattered black mist.

Emma Frost's fingers curled slightly.

The next second, lightning tore through the darkness.