Ebony Maw looked up at the blue sky as the beam of spatial energy shot upward and started to open a grand portal. Beyond it, he could already see the Chitauri — those nearly mindless tools of war.
Mindless, yes, but useful.
It had been almost a week of local time since he arrived on this planet, and finally, it was time to carry out his master's will.
He had to admit, he had been blessed with luck when he found that man, Reed Richards. He hadn't expected the locals to be of much help, but this man had surprised him — his mind was keen, it took to knowledge like a sponge stone absorbed liquid.
He had been able to overcome the challenges of the primitive technology of this world and set up a stable portal, all while Maw himself had been able to hide in the shadows.
Even now, he stood cloaked under every illusion he could muster.
After all, he was under no delusion that what was happening here wouldn't attract some attention from Asgard — though it shouldn't be enough to cause them to act.
But even then, with them looking here, they couldn't be allowed to see him, or the plan would be ruined.
Yet he also couldn't afford to stay too far away; these next few moments would be the most important ones.
Because to open the portal, he had to hand over the Tesseract — and he couldn't just take it. Not even he could get past the shield around it.
Sure, it was risky, but not doing it like this was even more so.
Not even the mighty Titan could face the united force of the universe, and should anyone realize their plan, that was the future they would face. And with so many of the stones' locations still unknown, now was not the time to become the enemy of everyone who couldn't understand the great Thanos's vision.
Now he just needed this distraction to grow big enough that Asgard would be stretched thin watching it all — and then, he would allow the heroes of Earth to win… after completing his purge, killing half of them.
Already he had seen the signs of resource overuse, unchecked pollution — all the signs that this world needed the merciful hand of Thanos and his Black Order.
As the Chitauri started coming through, he watched as they split up and moved in multiple directions. He was hoping to cleanse this entire continent, then the one to the south, followed by them crossing the seas to the far more populated east, which was to the west of them.
That should allow them to wipe out half — or close enough — without compromising the overall plan to acquire the Tesseract.
He would have liked to be more fair in his cleansing… but Midgard was, after all, Asgard's domain. So even if they wouldn't act, that was only as long as this didn't last too long.
After all, the plan was to make this all look like Midgard itself causing trouble, which was why in the end, the heroes would win.
And in doing so… it would just so happen that the explosives he had secretly hidden inside the portal generator would conceal what happened with the Tesseract, making it look like it disappeared on its own.
Maw was fairly proud of that one. Only thanks to that man Reed making the generator to this standard could Maw even make his own exit this cleanly.
Yes, that man was brilliant… but also dangerous. A brilliant man was the most troublesome type — better a brute than one of those.
Thankfully, his death wasn't hard to arrange. Given he was already under his control, everything was under his control… well, almost.
He had been surprised to learn that a goddess lived on Midgard. Maw was no stranger to gods — some of the worlds they had cleansed in the past had them — and while most were not a real challenge, some of them had proven troublesome.
More so in their little divine kingdoms — special realms that amplified their power. A few times, they had been forced to use orbital bombardment to deal with those troublesome gods hiding there and striking from within.
This Arthuria could indeed be a problem… but he had chosen this place as the stage for his grand play precisely because it was both a good location and because of how far away it was from the divine kingdom.
"Soon, this world shall know the truth that only the Great Titan foresaw; they shall be blessed by his will and live without the threat of themselves."
He couldn't help but whisper as buildings started exploding while his forces attacked.
His attention was then drawn toward a small flying object rushing toward the building he was standing on — a man he knew: Tony Stark. His very name was on this building, and his invention had powered the portal.
One of Midgard's great heroes… his death wouldn't hurt — but he needed to keep at least some of them alive to win, or Asgard wouldn't ignore this. So he just watched as the man in iron started fighting back against the storm of Chitauri.
Hopefully he wouldn't die — though if he did, others could play his role.
-----
Thor had been feeling strange over the last few days — like a knot in his gut. He was restless, nervous, as if something bad was about to happen.
It had started when he saw the lights of the Bifrost, then hearing that it wasn't someone coming to visit, but Arthuria herself going to Asgard — and doing so on the back of her horse and in full armor.
He couldn't help but be worried about the reason for such a thing.
And with how it seemed Camelot was getting ready for a fight… his worries only grew.
Since arriving in Camelot, being banished by his father, and losing Mjolnir, he had grown to like this place.
Sure, at first, he had hated it — wanted nothing more than to go back home, back to Asgard, to his friends, his family.
But now… Camelot, too, held dear friends. Sure, he hadn't shared as much time with them as he had with those back home… but that didn't mean he didn't value their friendship.
He knew they wouldn't last… he had at one time been worried that he would die there, never to see his family again but from afar — like when he had seen Loki as he visited the city.
But one night, while drinking, he had voiced his concerns with some of his new friends. Sir Gawain, one of them, had let slip that he wasn't human at all. That Thor was still an Asgardian — so even without his powers, he would still live long, long enough to one day return home.
That had taken a burden off his shoulders, a weight off his heart, and he had been able to enjoy his time in Camelot more, knowing that in time, he would return home. It was not about if, but when.
Since then, he had grown to treasure this city and the people inside it. He knew that, in time, the people he knew and cared about would grow old, for they were mortals in the end. But that just meant he treasured the time he had with these friends.
So the thought that there might be a fight between Camelot and Asgard worried him — worried that his friends, new and old, would fight and kill one another. He didn't want that.
Because of this, he couldn't really sleep for days, worried that a war might break out… and it would all have been his fault. If he hadn't been so stupid back then, then they wouldn't be in this situation.
Whatever would be the cause of this fight… it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been sent down here. So it would all be his fault.
His worry hadn't gotten any smaller when Arthuria had returned and left with most of the Knights of the Round Table, flying away on some shining golden thing.
After that, it seemed some kind of order had been given, as massive projectors — or so he was told — were being installed everywhere.
Everyone knew something was wrong, that something was happening, and now, they all knew they just had to wait a little longer to get some answers.
Slowly, Camelot came to a halt as everyone stopped what they were doing and waited — waited for those huge projectors to show them whatever it was their King wanted them to see.
With the starry sky and the beautiful white moon above, the white walls of Camelot, smooth as marble and bright as moonlight, became vast living screens.
At first, there was only static — flashes of color, blurred shapes, the hiss of unstable transmission.
Then the image sharpened.
A city. Tall spires of glass and steel. Smoke. Fire.
And above it — a wound in the heavens. A rift pouring down monsters of iron and flesh.
The people gasped. Some stepped back instinctively, clutching their children or their neighbors' arms. Others simply froze, unable to understand what they were seeing.
It looked unreal — a nightmare made visible.
The image panned upward, showing the hole tearing through the sky — the endless stream of Chitauri pouring through.
Every few seconds, something exploded — a jet struck, a building collapsing.
Then came the sound: the distant roar of engines and screams, relayed through the feed, echoing over the courtyards of Camelot.
Even the knights on patrol stopped to watch. Farmers, smiths, merchants — all had their eyes lifted to the walls as though the end of the world itself were being projected before them.
It seemed unreal, like some kind of strange movie. Yet… people doubted — doubted that their ruler would show them a movie. No… they had a shared fear — a fear that what they were seeing right now wasn't just a movie.
Yet… they also didn't want to believe that this was real — that this madness was truly happening.
This did, after all, look like some kind of war — an invasion — an alien invasion. And while the idea of aliens wasn't new, and the Asgardians were known about, people still struggled to believe in aliens. After all, the Asgardians had looked like humans.
This, however, didn't look human. This was devastation beyond humanity. Nightmare creatures came through the rift in the sky — some small, some massive, worm-like things of metal and flesh — and they left death and devastation behind.
Finally, hope appeared: a streak of light moving through the sky toward the monstrous attackers. They could just about make out the iconic armor of Iron Man.
He wasted no time in starting to fight back, and while he was good, he was but one man — and they were many.
While he fought dozens, hundreds more rushed into the streets below.
The people of Camelot — and the entire world — gasped and looked away as the countless cameras in New York City showed the horrible truth of the Mad Titan's mercy.
Filmed from a thousand phones, by people foolish and unafraid of death, the world watched as they recorded their last moments — allowing humanity to know what was happening, what was coming.
Thor, however, couldn't look away. His eyes were locked onto something he had only ever heard of — been told about. For the first time, he saw war, and the sight filled him with dread and disgust.
To think that once… once he had foolishly sought war. This… this wasn't a glorious battlefield. This was a nightmare come true.
(End of chapter)
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