"They're here."
As a ripple of spatial energy spread through Svartalfheim's skies, Margaret—calmly seated at a small table in the wasteland, sipping tea—spoke softly to Josh.
The dark elves' cloaking and spatial technology was extrely advanced. Back in the original story, even Heimdall and Odin hadn't been able to detect their fleet imdiately during the invasion of Asgard. Josh was no exception now.
But Margaret was different—nothing could hide from her anymore.
Monts later, Josh too felt sothing drawing near.
With a flare of energy, a colossal ship shaped like a dark blade erged in the distance.
Dark elves quickly disembarked and surrounded the two. At their head stood Malekith, king of the dark elves, flanked by his closest followers.
"Asgardians?" Malekith frowned as he studied the pair, still sitting in leisure as though nothing threatened them.
In Malekith's ti, humans on Earth were still striking stones together to make sparks. In his mind, there was no such race. By appearance alone, Josh and Margaret were indistinguishable from Asgardians. So naturally, he assud that was what they were.
"Want to handle this one?" Josh asked lightly, not even bothering to acknowledge Malekith's question.
"Of course. But you might want to step aside," Margaret replied with a smile.
Their unshaken calm enraged Malekith. With a sharp wave of his hand, his champion Algrim—the cursed warrior who had once fought Thor—charged straight toward Josh.
But Josh didn't even glance at him. In an instant, he blinked away, vanishing from sight.
Left behind was only Margaret.
Algrim turned toward her, ready to strike—only to see a vast shadow blot out the sky.
For in the sa instant Josh disappeared, Margaret had revealed her true form: a Celestial towering ten thousand ters tall, clad in blazing orange armor.
The shadow falling over the battlefield was nothing less than her descending foot.
"XXXX—!" The dark elves shrieked strange syllables in panic, scattering in blind terror before Malekith could even give an order.
Malekith himself froze, dumbstruck by the sight. If not for Algrim shoving him aside at the last mont, he would have been crushed. Instead, Algrim took the full force of Margaret's step—obliterated in an instant.
Margaret, however, paid no attention to the king who had narrowly escaped. Her gaze fell instead on the dark elves' warship.
Nearly a kiloter long, the mighty vessel looked no bigger than a child's toy in her colossal hands. She reached out, seized it effortlessly, and held it in her palm.
A flash of golden energy coursed through her, and in the blink of an eye, every dark elf aboard lost consciousness.
On the ground, those who had managed to flee her first strike also collapsed as golden ripples spread outward from her form, sweeping across the battlefield until all were down.
Only when it was done did Margaret carefully set the warship down on the barren earth, shrinking again to her human shape.
Josh reappeared beside her right on cue, a portal already opening at his side.
On the other side of the portal lay Starfall. Vereesa was already leading her fleet through, sweeping the battlefield clean.
Most of the dark elves weren't dead—just knocked unconscious by Margaret. They were all being hauled back for study, to see if their biology or sorcery held any value. The ship, too, was worth keeping; it might not outshine the warcraft of the Star Wars worlds, but its cloaking tech was definitely valuable.
"Next is Hela," Josh said, watching his people carry the prisoners away one by one.
"You really want to go? You said it yourself—Hela's seal was Odin's work. My strength might be great now, but freeing her without Odin noticing will be hard," Margaret replied.
The dark elves and the Reality Stone had been sealed back in Bor's ti, weak enough that they could be masked from Asgard's sight. But Hela's prison in Helheim was Odin's own creation. The mont they set foot there, he would likely sense it.
"Who said anything about not alerting Odin? Look—you've beco a Celestial. If we go sightseeing across the Nine Realms to celebrate, that's perfectly reasonable. And if, while 'touring,' we happen to stumble into her seal, that's reasonable too, right? Even if Odin knows, what can he say? Hela isn't escaping our grip anyway," Josh said with a smirk, utterly unconcerned.
If this had been before Margaret's ascension, Josh might have kept a asure of caution. But now? This was the MCU universe, not the comics—and even in the comics, Odin's strength fell short of the Celestials.
In the comics, Odin and the other Earth pantheons had once ford the prehistoric Avengers, straining themselves to kill a single weakened Celestial corrupted by cosmic parasites. Later, when the Celestial host arrived, Odin needed the Destroyer armor just to hack off one arm of a Celestial.
But here, in the MCU, Odin was a frail old man. With Margaret at his side, Josh no longer had anything to fear.
"You're right. Odin wouldn't risk open conflict over sothing like this—especially if we're the ones keeping Hela in check," Margaret admitted after a pause.
Without hesitation, she opened another portal.
On the other side lay Helheim—a world as desolate and shadowed as Svartalfheim, but thick with choking mists.
Josh and Margaret stepped through together. Their easy travel between Svartalfheim and Helheim was thanks to one person—Loki.
——
anwhile, in Azeroth…
Ancient One had arrived on the continent of Northrend.
Her goal was clear: the Old God Yogg-Saron, imprisoned deep within Ulduar.
Though the war in Silithus burned hot and Abbendis' campaign in the Broken Isles raged on, both the Qiraji and Abbendis' armies had enough strength to hold their ground. That left Ancient One free to pursue other matters.
Like C'Thun before him, Yogg-Saron was still bound. He was to be her next target.
With Abbendis' fortresses, portals, and flight paths across Northrend, reaching the region was simple.
But Ancient One did not march straight into Ulduar. Instead, she sought out the Temple of Wisdom on its outskirts.
Its master was Loken.
--
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