The Dark Elves' massive warship erupted from the ground with a deafening roar, its sleek black hull gleaming ominously. It pivoted sharply, locking onto the path where Thor had vanished, and surged forward with relentless determination. Nothing stood in its way—skyscrapers crumbled like sandcastles as the warship plowed through the cityscape, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.
Above, the sky split open as dozens of blinding lightning bolts streaked down, followed by a thunderous roar that shook the earth. Hong Fei darted toward Sif, urgency etched on his face.
"Take the two of them and get out of the city," he said firmly. "I'm going to help Thor."
Sif nodded, her expression grave.
"Be careful."
With a brief nod, Hong Fei shot into the sky, his figure vanishing in a blur.
On the banks of the Thames, Thor stood firm, Mjolnir in hand, unleashing a barrage of lightning strikes at the Dark Elves' warship. Each bolt crackled with raw power, but fatigue was beginning to show. His breaths came heavy, and a deep, charred scar marred the iron armor on his back. Around the wound, tiny black marks writhed like insects, gnawing relentlessly at the surrounding material, causing the damage to spread.
Behind him, Jane Foster slumped weakly against a railing, her head drooping. Her eyes were clouded, their usual brightness dulled, and her pupils burned a deep, unnatural crimson, almost black. Above, dozens of Dark Elves warships encircled Thor, forming an impenetrable blockade.
Then, a deafening roar echoed across the sky, sending a surge of hope through Thor's veins. He looked up to see a phantom dragon materialize from the distant horizon, its massive form streaking toward the warships. The dragon's head slammed into one of the vessels, triggering a violent explosion. Undeterred, the dragon continued its assault, spiraling through the air and obliterating warships before they could react.
After clearing a path, the dragon descended in a graceful arc, its form dissolving into golden light as it plunged into the ground before Thor. The light faded, revealing a gleaming golden spear—Gungnir. Thor stared at it, momentarily stunned.
Hong Fei emerged from the air, his back to Thor, his gaze fixed on the approaching Dark Elves' main warship. With a sharp clang, Gungnir leapt from the ground, spinning through the air to settle perfectly in Hong Fei's hand.
"Thor," he said, his voice calm but resolute, "I'll lure Malekith out. If he refuses to show himself, I'll send you to New York. My people and the Avengers are waiting there. I've prepared the battlefield—it's the best place for the final confrontation."
"No!" Thor shouted, shaking his head vehemently. "That's not the plan. You can't do this!"
Hong Fei didn't turn, raising a hand to silence him.
"Plans change," he said coolly. "If I can hold them back here, it'll ease the pressure in New York. This is still part of the strategy."
Before Thor could respond, two figures streaked through the sky. A bulky iron armor landed with a metallic clatter in front of Thor, while a sleek, form-fitting suit touched down beside Hong Fei. The faceplate of the latter opened, revealing Jessica's cheerful grin.
"Hi, Boss," she said brightly. "Aliens again this time?"
On the ground, Frank pushed open his armor's faceplate, revealing his rugged features. He plucked a cigar from between his metal fingers and stuck it in his mouth, puffing casually.
"Knew it," he drawled. "Whenever you call, trouble's never far behind."
He turned to Thor, tipping his head.
"Hello, Mr. Thor, and this young lady—she doesn't look too good, does she?"
Hong Fei's gaze tracked the approaching main warship, flanked by swarms of smaller vessels. Without hesitation, he barked orders: "Frank, take the left flank. Jessica, right side. Draw them away."
"No problem, Boss!"
Frank and Jessica snapped their faceplates shut and split off in opposite directions, charging straight at the Dark Elves' fleet.
Within moments, a sizable contingent of small warships peeled away in pursuit of the two diversions. Then came the growl of engines overhead—human fighter jets streaked across the sky. Hong Fei's lips twisted. Less than ten jets?
"The British really think this is enough to handle aliens?"
He shook his head.
He hefted his spear. Dragon Power coiled up the shaft, igniting the tip in golden flames. The main warship loomed closer. Malekith was nowhere in sight—instead, the Cursed Warrior, who should've been crippled by Odin's divine power, came vaulting off the hull.
The warrior's roar split the air, showing no trace of injury. As he arced downward, Hong Fei's body erupted in golden fire. The dark gold dragon patterns on his armor writhed like living things, swirling around him. Then—he vanished.
A thunderclap of impact echoed above. Black and gold shockwaves rippled outward. Midair, Gungnir was already buried in the Cursed Warrior's chest, the spearhead jutting from his back.
Yet the warrior showed no sign of faltering. One hand locked around Gungnir's shaft; the other clamped Hong Fei's wrist. Neither yielded. Momentum carried them downward—
The street cratered on impact. The Dark Elves' warship plowed through the narrow avenue, reducing buildings to rubble in its wake. As it ground to a halt, Thor tightened his grip on Mjolnir. Behind him, the dark red haze faded from Jane's eyes.
She blinked, dazed, at the ruined cityscape before scrambling to her feet. Her fingers dug into Thor's arm.
"This… why does this look like London?"
"Jane! You're awake!"
Thor's initial joy darkened instantly.
"I don't know London, but yes—this is Earth."
Human fighter jets screamed in low, guns blazing. Autocannon fire peppered the warship's hull, blooming into brief, futile flares of light. When the smoke cleared, the ship stood unscathed.
The Dark Elves retaliated without hesitation. Nearby small warships wheeled and dove at the jets. Within minutes, over half the human fighters spiraled down in flames.
Far off, Frank and Jessica herded their respective fleets away, following Hong Fei's orders to the letter. They faithfully executed the orders, believing that Hong Fei was indisputably weakening the enemy's main force.
As for what Hong Fei was thinking—right now, even he couldn't say it mattered.
"Boom!"
The crater erupted as Hong Fei and the Cursed Warrior launched back into the fray.
The Cursed Warrior landed with a bone-jarring thud before the main warship, while Hong Fei touched down facing Thor. Blood still dripped from the warrior's chest wound, yet his movements betrayed no weakness. Above them, the warship's hatch groaned open—two shrieking Dark Elves tumbled out like discarded puppets. The Cursed Warrior sprang upward, his massive hands closing around their throats.
Within seconds, the elves' bodies shriveled like autumn leaves, collapsing into skeletal husks. The gaping wound on his chest knitted itself halfway closed before their eyes. Hong Fei stood spear-ready, his iron armor unscathed—yet Thor's sharp eyes caught the dented fingerprints encircling his right vambrace.
"Hong," Thor called, voice tight, "you hurt?"
Hong Fei didn't shift.
"I'll hold. You need to go."
The steadiness in his voice only deepened Thor's concern. Thunder rumbled as the god of war glared at the smoke-choked sky.
"We fight together. They can't take us both!"
"Malekith still lurks in that ship," Hong Fei countered. "If he reaches Jane—if he claims the Aether—"
"Then we all retreat to New York! With the Avengers—"
Hong Fei shook his head. His gaze flicked to the regenerating monstrosity.
"That thing outmatches even an Aether-less Malekith. Let them both reach Manhattan, and we'll drown in civilian corpses."
He planted his spear, twisting its haft. A golden portal yawned beneath their feet.
"We split their forces. Minimize the—"
The Cursed Warrior moved faster than curses. A ten-ton truck sailed through the air like a toy. Thor barely yanked Jane clear as the portal fizzled. Before the dust settled, their enemy was airborne again—all claws and killing intent.
"White Dragon!" Hong Fei barked.
The Thames exploded.
A serpentine column of water solidified into gleaming scales, the dragon's emergence shaking buildings to their foundations. Its roar split the sky.
"GO!"
Hong Fei didn't wait—he was already mid-lunge when the command left his lips.
Thor tasted copper where his teeth ground together. Stormclouds gathered at his unspoken fury—then dissipated with a defeated sigh. He locked Jane against his chest and vaulted onto the dragon's rising back.
Below, the earth tore open like paper. Hong Fei skidded through stone embankments before coming to rest in rubble. Through the dust, he flashed Thor a bloody grin. The god's vision blurred.
The mothership lurched into motion. The White Dragon banked west, drawing a swarm of smaller craft away.
Again.
And again.
Each time the Cursed Warrior hammered Hong Fei into the ground, the warrior rose slower. Until—
A twist mid-air. A sudden halt.
Helmet retracting, Hong Fei tilted his head and inhaled like a man tasting freedom. His smile then—wide and reckless—made the Cursed Warrior pause. The monster cocked its head, sensing the shift.
Hong Fei landed light as a leaf. Gungnir's tip kissed concrete. He scanned the battlefield like a composer surveying his orchestra.
More human fighter jets had taken off, and in the distance, tank barrels angled skyward—their shells bursting into yellow-and-black chrysanthemums of flak. Along both banks of the Thames, Dark Elf fighters and human jets wove a lethal dance as far as the eye could see.
Flames licked the sky every few hundred meters, their thick black smoke staining the horizon. Below, tanks and warships traded reckless volleys while fighter jets weaved between explosions—each violent maneuver adding another jagged stroke to the apocalyptic canvas. This was war in its purest form: a brutal masterpiece that set the blood alight.
Withdrawing his gaze, Hong Fei looked at the Cursed Warrior and spread his arms in a mocking flourish, his grin sharp enough to cut steel.
"Welcome to Earth."