In a small, forgotten town in eastern England, a dilapidated cottage stood apart from the surrounding structures. Within its weathered walls, a striking woman with flowing silver hair sat in meditative stillness, her eyes closed in contemplation. The aura surrounding her fluctuated curiously—sometimes razor-sharp, other times gentle as morning mist, shifting between extremes in unpredictable patterns.
Behind her stood a man of substantial build, his powerful frame belying a gentle touch. His hands hovered at the woman's temples, emanating a soft silver radiance that closely matched the color of her hair. The light was subtle enough that an inattentive observer might easily overlook it, yet its purpose was clearly therapeutic.
"Cersei, you've returned," said the silver-haired woman without opening her eyes. This was Thena, captain of the Eternals, her voice controlled despite the turmoil within. "Have you and Sprite detected any irregularities? And what of Ikaris and Kingo—have they arrived?"
Cersei stepped into the desolate courtyard, acknowledging Thena seated before her and Gilgamesh standing protectively behind. With a subtle gesture toward the entrance, she beckoned a small figure who entered with preternatural silence.
"The Celestial shows no abnormalities," Cersei reported with characteristic calm. "Ikaris sent word—he should arrive today."
"Truly?" asked Sprite with poorly concealed excitement, despite appearing no older than ten years old.
Though she had lived for thousands of years, her millennia of companionship with her fellow Eternals had fostered a profound admiration for Ikaris—an affection she found herself too self-conscious to express openly. Her childlike appearance had long been a source of frustration; if not for this permanent youthful visage, she believed communication with Ikaris might flow more naturally between them.
But their forms and functions had been determined from their creation. The Celestials had shaped them for a specific purpose—a mission that now faced unprecedented challenges.
"What developments have occurred at Kamar-Taj and within the Vientiane?" Thena inquired, her tone weighted with concern.
The silver light emanating from Gilgamesh's hands intensified reflexively, attempting to soothe the emotional disturbance growing within his captain. He sighed inwardly. Thena's condition had deteriorated significantly since receiving intelligence regarding the potential threat to the Celestial embryo. The emotions he had temporarily managed to stabilize were again descending into chaos. Without his timely intervention, another episode of Mahd Wy'ry might have resulted in violence.
The sacred duty entrusted to the ten Eternals was the protection of the Celestial embryo—ensuring its gestation proceeded unimpeded. Their initial guardianship required active vigilance, but as millennia passed, their role evolved into patient custodianship, allowing the natural process of cosmic birth to unfold at its ordained pace.
This arrangement had permitted them to separate, each pursuing individual interests across Earth. The arrival of an anonymous message, however, had compelled their reunion. The communication had not only demonstrated detailed knowledge of their identities but also warned of imminent danger to the Celestial embryo—a potential extinction-level threat.
Frustratingly, the message only implicated Asgard and Kamar-Taj without elaboration, seemingly designed to provoke their intervention. Regardless of the messenger's motivation, their sacred obligation to facilitate the Celestial's birth demanded immediate action. Nothing could be permitted to interfere with the Celestial until they themselves departed.
Thus, the gathering had been initiated. Eight of the ten Eternals had already assembled; only Ikaris and Kingo remained absent.
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
A powerful downdraft disturbed the courtyard as two figures descended from above. The handsome Ikaris touched down gently, cradling the unconscious form of Kingo in his arms. Despite his composed exterior, Ikaris's aura fluctuated erratically, betraying recent trauma.
"What happened?" Cersei was first to respond, her concern evident. "Who engaged you in combat?"
Her previous relationship with Ikaris—a romantic entanglement spanning centuries—made her solicitude both natural and expected.
"A contingent of sorcerers proclaiming freedom pursued us," Ikaris replied, casting a meaningful glance toward Cersei. Though he appeared superficially intact, internal damage had significantly compromised him; otherwise, he would never have arrived so tardily.
"They sought to capture us to discover the entrance to the Celestial's embryonic chamber," he continued grimly.
"What?" Thena's expression transformed instantly as she rose to her feet. "They intend to attack the Celestial? Ikaris, what level of power do these adversaries command?"
As she spoke, her silver-white hair began to float weightlessly around her, a physical manifestation of her agitated mental state.
Confronted with his captain's inquiry, Ikaris offered a rueful smile and gestured toward his burden. "Kingo suffered severe injuries and remains unconscious. I'm in marginally better condition, but full recovery will require time."
"These enemies possess such formidable strength?" Thena questioned incredulously. "Ikaris, your combat capabilities rank among our highest."
At this, Ikaris's expression darkened with a flash of indignation.
"They employed ambush tactics," he explained, "leaving us no opportunity for defensive positioning. Their magical methodology proves particularly challenging to counter—they appear to have anticipated our specific abilities." He shifted Kingo's weight carefully. "We were only two—Kingo and myself. We absorbed significant damage before evasive maneuvers became possible. In a direct confrontation with adequate preparation, I remain confident in our superiority."
Upon hearing this assessment, Thena's countenance deteriorated further. Something in Ikaris's report triggered a response, causing her pupils to adopt an alarming whitish hue.
Behind her, Gilgamesh rapidly placed his hands against her temples, intensifying the healing luminescence while whispering words of reassurance directly into her ear.
Observing this exchange, Ikaris turned to Sprite, Cersei, and the others nearby. "How severe is the captain's condition currently? And what of the remaining Eternals? I sense these sorcerers are systematically targeting us, intending to breach the Celestial's defenses."
Before Cersei could respond, Sprite stepped forward, her childlike appearance belying her ancient wisdom. "Ikaris, all have assembled. We await the captain's strategic directives."
"However..." She cast an apprehensive glance toward Thena, who remained in a semi-dissociative state, and hesitated. "Perhaps we should allow the captain time to regain equilibrium."
At this suggestion, Ikaris's azure eyes intensified slightly with purpose. If the captain's condition prohibited leadership, responsibility would naturally transfer to him.
Meanwhile, the remaining team members converged upon the modest courtyard one by one, just as Thena began showing signs of recovery.
Upon opening her eyes, she surveyed her assembled brethren and rose to her feet, disregarding her precarious stability. She turned immediately to Phastos, whose technological acumen surpassed all others.
"Phastos, can you establish communication with the Celestials? We require reinforcement urgently."
The reality of their situation was stark—ten Eternals against what appeared to be numerous formidable adversaries. With even Ikaris sustaining significant damage, her confidence in their success had diminished considerably.
However, the dark-skinned Phastos merely shook his head, his expression grim. "My apologies, Captain. The situation remains unchanged. Our opponents appear to have implemented some form of dimensional anchoring technology. We cannot depart Earth nor establish contact with the Celestials."
His final words hung heavy in the air, laden with implication:
"We are imprisoned."
The assembled Eternals exchanged troubled glances. Created by the Celestials, programmed with specific directives to protect the embryonic Celestial buried within Earth, they now faced a threat they might not be equipped to counter alone.
From his position near the courtyard's perimeter, Druig contemplated their predicament with characteristic detachment. "If we cannot reach the Celestials, perhaps we should seek alternative allies."
Makkari, standing at his side, signed rapidly, her fingers moving with superhuman speed. The sorcerers of Kamar-Taj might assist us, she suggested, if they understand the consequences of the Celestial's premature emergence or destruction.
"We cannot trust them," Thena responded sharply. "The message implicated Kamar-Taj directly."
"Not necessarily," Phastos interjected thoughtfully. "The communication mentioned Kamar-Taj and Asgard, but implied they were in conflict, not collaboration. Logically, a third party benefits most from such division."
Ikaris carefully lowered Kingo onto a weathered stone bench. "The sorcerers who attacked us spoke of freedom and power. They seemed organized, disciplined—and they knew precisely who we were and what we protect."
Thena's expression hardened into resolve. "Then our course is clear. We must protect the Celestial at all costs, as we were created to do. If these sorcerers seek entry to its chamber, they must first overcome us."
Gilgamesh placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps diplomacy might—"
"They attacked without provocation," Ikaris interrupted. "They left Kingo for dead. These are not entities with whom negotiation is possible."
As the Eternals debated their limited options, none noticed the faint shimmer at the courtyard's edge—a nearly imperceptible distortion in reality through which unseen eyes observed their council. The fallen sorcerers had located their quarry, and the information they gathered would soon reach David and his disguised advisor.
The trap was closing, with the Celestial embryo—and potentially Earth itself—hanging in the balance.