( My Finals literally ended earlier today. Finally free to continue writing this Fanfic. Thanks for your patience, this was a stressful time lol. )
Odin beckoned Thor to him and the duo briskly walked out of the medical bay, heading towards a secluded chamber adorned with ancient relics and illuminated by the soft glow of enchanted torches.
Odin went to a shelf adorned with various books and slowly began to sort through the pile while speaking. Thor stood beside him attentively listening to every word his father spoke.
"There are relics that predate the universe itself," Odin began, his voice carrying the weight of millennia. "What lies within her appears to be one of them."
He grabbed a book and opened it, and a holographic projection of the cosmos popped out, further illuminating the room and drawing Thor's undivided attention, "The Nine Realms are not eternal. They had a dawn, as they will have a dusk. But before that dawn, the dark forces, the Dark Elves, reigned absolute and unchallenged."
The projection immediately shifted and began depicting the Dark Elves, whose forms were still shrouded in shadow, "Their leader, Malekith, made a weapon out of that darkness."
Odin took a short pause before continuing, "It was called the Aether. While the other relics often appear as stones, the Aether is fluid and ever-changing. It changes matter into dark matter and seeks out host bodies, drawing strength from their life force."
Thor interjected, "But why Jane? Why now?" He said nervously, beginning to pace around the room as he thought about how he'd explain all of this to Jane, and how he'd possibly solve this scenario without screwing something up.
Odin's gaze was solemn. "The Aether awakens once every 5,000 years during the Convergence, when the Nine Realms align. It seeks a host to unleash its power. That mortal's accidental exposure made her its vessal. How did you allow this to happen son?"
Before Thor could muster a response, the massive doors of the chamber creaked open, revealing Hela, her commanding and unsettling present swiftly spreading across every inch of the room.
"After all this time, Father, you still struggle to control your offspring," she remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stared at Thor, noticing his nervous expression as he saw the tension that filled the room between father & daughter.
Odin's eyes widened in shock, his posture stiffening. "Hela," he whispered, disbelief evident in his tone. "You dare return to Asgard?"
Odin's shock and disbelief turned to outrage and fury, his aura flared as his hand glowed, and in it spawned his trusty spear, Gungnir, a spear worthy to be weld by the God King of Asgard and Ruler of the Nine Realms.
Hela's lips curled into a smirk, "I go where I please. This realm is as much mine as it is yours. God I missed this, the feeling of my power increasing just by standing in here, this is home." Hela said.
Odin growled in anger and annoyance, the tension being thick enough to cut with a knife as he grappled Gungnir tightly, his eyes locked on any potential micro-movement by Hela that could potentially be an attack.
Before tensions could escalate further, a soothing voice intervened. "Peace, both of you." Frigga entered the chamber, and a wave of soothing magical energy pulsed throughout the room, her presence immediately calming the atmosphere.
Behind her stood Maxim, observing the unfolding drama with keen interest. It was the first time he saw Odin in this life, the man radiated power, much more compared to the weaklings on Earth like the Avengers or even Thor, but Maxim still knew he could take him.
With Doomsday, there wasn't anything in the MCU currently that Maxim wasn't confident he could handle, and this was still only the beginning.
Meanwhile, Odin turned to Frigga, astonishment and shock etched on his face, "You brought her here?"
"I've had contact with her long before she decides to come Odin. She is our daughter, it's time we faced our past, before Thor and Loki must face it for us." Frigga said, not backing down whatsoever.
Odin's gaze shifted between Frigga and Hela, the weight of centuries pressing down on him. "Very well, there's bigger problems to focus on," he conceded, his voice heavy. "But this conversation is far from over."
Odin turned to Maxim, noticing the power that he emitted was not any weaker than Hela, even when Maxim mostly restricted his presence to not be overbearing.
His eye locked with Maxim's and the latter didn't back down, staring directly into Odin's eye. The duo locked gazes for a couple moments, before Odin turned away, bringing his attention back to Thor and continuing what he was saying.
"The Aether is not just a relic; it is a force of chaos. Its reemergence during the Convergence is no coincidence. I believe there's more at play here."
Hela interjected, her tone laced with disdain. "The Dark Elves and their cursed Aether. I remember the wars, the destruction. Blood spilled like water and no army was safe from devastation."
Odin nodded solemnly, "Malekith sought to plunge the universe into darkness using the Aether. We thwarted him once, but his influence lingers."
Thor, who had been silently taking in all of this information until now, spoke up, "If Jane is the Aether's host, she is in grave danger. We must find a way to separate them no matter what."
Frigga added, "The Aether is drawn to power. Perhaps we can use that to our advantage."
Odin considered their words, the weight of responsibility evident in his demeanor. "We must act swiftly. The fate of the Nine Realms hangs in the balance."
***
Far from Asgard, across the cold and silent void…
Beyond the borders of the Nine Realms, in a forgotten sector of space untouched by light and time, the ancient prison-ship of Svartalfheim lay embedded beneath a field of blackened asteroids. No stars glowed here. No gods watched. Only darkness, and the whisper of something older than the cosmos itself.
Inside the ship, silence reigned.
Its massive hull was covered in scars from a war fought ten thousand years ago, half-buried in dust and ruin. A stillness lingered, like death frozen in time. Lifeless bodies, Dark Elves preserved in suspended animation, stood upright in rows, their pallid armor dulled by age, their faces hidden beneath obsidian masks.
Then… a pulse.
A low vibration trembled through the derelict vessel like the echo of a heartbeat. Barely perceptible. But it grew stronger.
~DUMMM~
A flicker of crimson light shimmered through the corridor. Then another. Faint tendrils of energy slithered across the walls like veins seeking flesh, pulsing in rhythm with an ancient force being reborn.
~DUMMM~
The Aether had awakened.
And it called to its him.
At the center of the ship, an enormous pod stood taller than the others. A symbol carved from old runes of darkness adorned the seal—twisting, broken, jagged. It began to glow, trembling with each beat of the Aether's energy. Within it, a shape stirred.
Then,
~CRACK!~
The pod split down the middle, light and vapor bursting out into the chamber. Slowly, a shadow stepped forward.
He was tall and lean, his blackened skin taut over angular features, and his eyes… his eyes burned with ancient malice. Malekith the Accursed had returned.
He opened his eyes fully, inhaling sharply as though drawing in a breath stolen from time itself.
"The light..." he muttered in a voice hoarse from slumber, "has grown bold again."
The glow of the Aether reflected in his irises like twin stars of blood.
One by one, the pods around him began to hum and hiss, mechanisms waking from dormancy. Soldiers stirred.
Eyes blinked open behind lifeless masks. Weapons buzzed with new energy. Generals long dead in history rose again, silent but deadly, like ghosts born of vengeance.
A commander approached and knelt. "My king… the Aether has returned."
"I know," Malekith replied. "I feel it."
His fingers flexed slowly, as if remembering the sensation of touch, of blood and steel.
"And this time," he continued, his voice now a quiet snarl, "there will be no failure."
He turned toward the control chamber, passing statues of ancient beasts and shattered memories of the war Odin had tried to bury.
"Prepare the Ark. We travel to the Convergence. The Nine Realms will drown in eternal night."
The soldiers around him slammed their fists to their chests in silent salute. No war horns were sounded. No anthems sung. Only the chill of awakening and the quiet whisper of something malevolent stirring in the dark.
Malekith stepped to a window as starlight returned, casting long shadows across his face.
"Let them fear again."