CHAPTER 216: INTO THE HEART OF DARKNESS

Following the schematics left behind by Victor Von Doom, a brand-new dimensional traversal machine was completed in just under two hours. An army of mechanical arms worked in flawless unison, assembling the device with almost mechanical artistry. After a few swift test runs, the machine passed with flying colors—it was ready for launch at any time.

But things weren’t looking good for Dr. Jane Foster.

The Aether had embedded itself deep within her body, constantly draining her life force while emitting a pulse—a pulse Gene suspected was a signal. The Dark Elves were likely attuned to this frequency. After all, in the original movie, the Aether’s reactivation was what woke them from a five-thousand-year slumber.

Gene’s deduction turned out to be correct.

By reverse-engineering the pulse emitted by the Aether, he was able to triangulate the current location of the Dark Elves. It was time to move.

The dimensional traversal machine began to hum with power. Energy surged through its core as the air above it twisted and distorted, eventually opening a black rift in space. From its depths came a cold, soul-piercing wind.

Svartalfheim. The realm of darkness.

"Sir, I must advise caution," Skynet’s concerned voice came through. "At the very least, we should run a few more simulations before proceeding."

"Testing is complete, Skynet," Gene replied calmly. "Sometimes, you’ve got to stop running simulations and just take the damn step."

He picked up the unconscious Jane Foster and stepped toward the swirling black rift without hesitation.

"Skynet, hold the portal," Gene ordered. "If I don’t return in three days, destroy the gate. I’ll find another way back."

He sounded less like a man walking into enemy territory and more like someone heading out for a weekend retreat.

"Dr. Foster, time to wake up."

Jane stirred groggily at the sound of Gene’s voice. Her eyes fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was a pitch-black armored figure looming over her, crimson V-shaped visor glowing ominously. She flinched, scooting backward on instinct.

Around her was a bleak, alien landscape—jagged black rocks, dead air, a sunless sky. This place reeked of death.

"Dr. Foster," Gene said coldly, "if I were you, I’d stay close. This place isn’t half as safe as it looks."

"Who... who are you? Where are we?" Jane asked weakly. She tried to stand, but her legs collapsed beneath her like jelly. Her entire body felt drained—as though something had hollowed her out from the inside.

"The Aether is inside you," Gene replied dispassionately. "It’s one of the most dangerous substances in the universe. It’s leeching your life energy constantly. That’s why you feel so weak."

He took a slow step forward. "And given what we’re about to face... I suggest you don’t do anything stupid."

"Who are you? Where the hell are we—"

ZMMM—!

Before she could finish, a sudden high-pitched charging noise shrieked through the air. A brilliant teal beam blasted past her head, close enough to singe her hair. A tortured screech echoed behind her.

She screamed, covering her head as the smell of scorched flesh hit her nostrils.

"We’re in Svartalfheim," Gene said calmly, lowering his hand. "Home of the Dark Elves. Ancient enemies of Asgard. We’re here to remove the Aether from your body."

He pointed toward the twitching, burning remains of what had just been a Dark Elf seconds ago.

"That one was about to pounce on you. You’re welcome."

Jane spun around. Her eyes widened in horror.

They were surrounded.

The Dark Elves emerged from the shadows like phantoms. Gaunt, pale-skinned creatures with monstrous masks and glowing crimson eyes. They moved with eerie silence, accompanied by enormous, wolf-like beasts—mutated horrors with mangy fur and blood-drenched teeth. The creatures growled, low and guttural, slavering with hunger.

Jane, panicking, scrambled over to Gene’s side, grabbing onto the armored figure like a lifeline. Whatever this man—this thing

—was, he was still human... or at least closer to human than the nightmares circling them.

Gene’s armor pulsed with blue energy. His palm blaster glowed with a concentrated charge. A golden spell circle shimmered into existence over his right hand, intertwining arcane magic and technological might.

The V-shaped visor pulsed gently.

He was calculating.

Assessing.

Then—boom—a searing blue beam ripped through the air. One overzealous Dark Elf was vaporized instantly, reduced to ash without a sound.

The others froze.

Gene’s voice cut through the silence like a scalpel.

"So... who wants to be next?"

The remaining Dark Elves hesitated. Their bloodlust wavered for the first time.

And Jane, still shivering behind him, realized something horrifying... but strangely comforting:

As terrifying as these monsters were—

The man standing between her and them?

Was even worse.

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