Driven by a mixture of curiosity and his old, reckless streak, Thor did the most Thor-like thing imaginable—he reached out his hand. The crimson, mud-like substance pulsed faintly in the air, radiating an ominous energy, and yet the son of Odin couldn't resist. Just as Jane Foster had done in another timeline, Thor leaned forward, his expression intent, and brushed his fingers against it to see what it truly was.

It seemed no one had ever successfully taught Thor the golden rule of adventuring: don't touch strange, unknown substances glowing in the middle of a cursed wasteland.

The moment his fingertips grazed the Aether, the mass shuddered violently as if awakened from a deep slumber. In an instant, the dark red energy coiled and lunged at him, alive and hungry, like a starving hound catching the scent of fresh prey.

"What in Hel—?!" Thor swore, his eyes going wide.

Instinct surged. Lightning crackled violently along his arm, racing down the length of Mjolnir before exploding outward in a blinding flash. The thunderclap boomed across the barren plains, and the blast hurled the Aether back like smoke scattered by a gale.

The crimson substance reformed, writhing in the air, but Thor didn't dare tempt fate twice. He drew back sharply, heart still hammering.

"Quick—fetch Alex!" Thor barked at the nearest Asgardian warrior, his voice urgent.

But before the soldier could even move, a sharp boom cracked the air like a sonic whip.

"No need," came the calm, confident reply.

Alex was already there, appearing in front of Thor in a blur of speed, cape fluttering behind him. His golden eyes locked immediately on the writhing energy mass.

"Alex!" Thor exhaled with relief, waving him over as though summoning a trusted comrade into the fray. "You must see this—it has to be the Aether!"

Alex's gaze lingered on the dark red substance, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You're right, Thor. This is it." His voice carried a note of satisfaction. The Reality Stone was finally within reach.

Hum—

Without hesitation, Alex extended his will, unleashing the full might of his telekinesis. Invisible force wrapped around the Aether like an iron cage, suspending it midair. The substance writhed violently, pulsing and thrashing like a captured beast, its surface rippling with sinister light. But its autonomous fluctuations were little more than spasms compared to Alex's power. No matter how fiercely it struggled, the Aether remained locked in place, bound by an unyielding grip.

"Thor—the container," Alex called sharply, his voice clipped with focus. "Now!"

"Oh! Right—by the Norns!" Thor smacked his forehead, then turned quickly to his guards. One stepped forward, carrying a peculiar artifact: a small, unimpressive box, its shape resembling an ancient oil lamp.

To the untrained eye, it looked like a trinket fit for a collector's shelf. But Alex knew otherwise. It was a relic from Asgard's vaults, a carefully chosen vessel meant to contain dangerous energies.

Thor opened the box, and immediately a suction force surged outward, invisible yet powerful enough to drag at even his stance. He instinctively leaned back, wary of getting too close.

Guided by Alex's telekinesis, the writhing crimson mass was forced toward the artifact.

Swish!

The Aether shrieked in silence, compressing into a stream of light that was devoured by the box. In the blink of an eye, it was sealed inside, the lid snapping shut with a finality that seemed to echo across the desolate landscape.

It was done.

The Reality Stone—contained.

Alex's mood soared. The mission that had dragged on for endless months of frustration and tedium had finally borne fruit. Another Infinity Stone was in his grasp.

---

At the same time, elsewhere on the dead world, something stirred.

Hidden deep within Svartalfheim's shadowed wastelands lay a colossal mothership, cloaked from all eyes. Its titanic hull loomed like a mountain, invisible even as it squatted among the jagged cliffs. Inside its cavernous chambers stretched rows upon rows of hibernation pods, their frost-coated glass gleaming faintly in the gloom.

Within those pods slept the last remnants of the Dark Elves—survivors Odin had long believed eradicated. Their pale faces were frozen in uneasy slumber, their chests rising and falling ever so faintly beneath the icy glass.

Hiss!

A sudden hiss broke the silence. One pod ejected from its station with a heavy thud, frost spilling in clouds around it. Slowly, its lid cracked open.

The figure within stirred. Eyes snapped open—cold, sharp, and filled with simmering hatred.

Malekith.

The leader of the Dark Elves.

"The Aether…" His voice rasped with both awe and fury. "It has awakened."

Delight flared across his features, tempered by a hunger that had waited eons in silence. Their weapon, their birthright, had been found. This time, nothing would stop him from seizing it.

---

Back at the Asgardian camp, Thor and Alex examined the sealed container while Loki lingered nearby, wearing a smug grin.

"So," Loki drawled, his voice dripping with self-satisfaction, "the mighty Alex needed my magic after all. You see? Without me, you'd still be chasing shadows across this miserable rock."

He preened, lifting his chin as though the entire operation had been orchestrated by him alone. To be fair, his ritual had been useful—but nowhere near as decisive as he implied.

Alex's expression remained perfectly calm. "Of course," he said evenly. "Even a match—or a pair of underpants—has its uses. Why wouldn't you?"

Loki blinked, momentarily thrown off. "…"

What sort of comparison was that supposed to be?!

Thor, meanwhile, burst into laughter, clutching his sides. "Hah! A match and underpants! Alex, that's brilliant!"

Loki narrowed his eyes, then arched a brow slyly. "Yes, Thor, if I'm a match or a pair of underpants, then what does that make you? Something even less useful?"

Thor's booming laughter died instantly, his smile freezing in place.

He opened his mouth to retort—but Alex's cool voice cut across the camp like a blade. "We have guests."

Thor blinked, startled. "Guests?" He glanced around the empty wasteland. Nothing stirred but the barren wind.

Even Loki faltered, brows knitting as he scanned the horizon. "What are you talking about?"

"The Dark Elves," Alex replied simply, his gaze sharpening. "They're here."

Thor stiffened, the name striking him like thunder. He remembered Alex's warning to Odin—that Malekith's people were not truly gone. Now, the proof had arrived.

"Where?" Thor demanded, already hefting Mjolnir, every muscle tensed.

"There." Alex raised his hand, pointing toward an expanse of empty sky.

Thor and Loki followed his gesture, but saw nothing. Just air, emptiness, and shadow.

Sizzle—

Twin beams of heat vision lanced from Alex's eyes, cutting across several kilometers in a single breath. They struck seemingly empty space—and then the world shimmered.

Like a curtain tearing away, a vast mothership materialized in the sky, its immense bulk blotting out the horizon.

A cloaked mothership.

Thor and Loki's expressions hardened.

---

Inside the mothership, alarms blared. Malekith's face contorted in shock as he stared at the flickering displays.

"What—?! How did he see us?!" His voice cracked with disbelief.

Their cloaking technology was the pride of the Dark Elves, refined over countless centuries. Not even Heimdall, the all-seeing sentinel of Asgard, could pierce it unless they stood within arm's reach.

And yet this man—this outsider—had spotted them from kilometers away and struck them with beams of searing energy from his eyes.

"Impossible," Malekith hissed. "What is he?"

And what was Asgard doing here, on Svartalfheim, at the very moment the Aether awakened?

The questions clawed at his mind—but one truth was undeniable.

Their ancient weapon was no longer dormant. And whoever this stranger was, he stood directly in their way.

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