Soren watched in awe as the emerald glow of Jean's magic circle hovered perfectly in her hands, shimmering. The intricate runes pulsed in perfect rhythm, flawless on her very first attempt.
He exhaled slowly, feeling a rare smile tug at the corners of his mouth.
"Incredible."
Jean grinned at him, cheeks flushed.
"Soren..." She said hesitantly, glancing down at the humming green stone in her hand.
"Is this... the power of time?" Her voice trembled slightly.
Soren nodded, pride clear in his eyes.
"Yes."
"The heartbeat of time itself. You're holding it... and you're already weaving it into your magic like it's second nature."
Jean's fingers tightened slightly around the gem. The light from the magic circle danced in her wide, green eyes.
"You're a natural, Jean."
"Truly. A born magic carrier. Staying here at Kamar-Taj is the best path for you. Learn, absorb... grow stronger. I've already spoken to he professor about it, he's agreed."
Jean's cheeks reddened even further, the tips of her ears glowing pink. She ducked her head shyly and held out the Time Stone to return it.
"I'll treasure every second of it." She pressed the gem back into Soren's hand.
"…"
"…"
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Jean inched closer, slipping to Soren's side like a cat seeking warmth, and simply leaned against him, eyes closed, smiling faintly.
Soren didn't speak.
The courtyard around them was silent except for the soft hum of ancient magic and the gentle rustle of wind through the banners of Kamar-Taj.
Rare moments like this... were precious.
Asgard
In the grand hall of Asgard, where golden pillars stretched endlessly toward the sky, a single voice broke the solemn stillness.
"My King." The armored guard said, dropping to one knee before Odin's throne. "The Bifrost has been fully restored. It is ready to pierce the Nine Realms once more."
From atop his towering seat, Odin, his one remaining eye gleaming beneath his heavy crown, nodded slowly.
A heavy price had been paid in the battle against Malekith. But thanks to Soren's intervention, Asgard still stood proud.
Thor, standing proudly at Odin's right hand.
"Father." Thor said, his deep voice ringing through the hall.
"Allow me to lead an army to Vanaheim. We cannot allow any dark elves to survive and rise again from their ashes... repeating the sins of the past."
Odin studied him carefully, a glint of approval flashing across the old king's face.
This was not the reckless boy who once craved battle for its own sake.
This was a prince learning the weight of leadership.
At last, Odin gave a single, solemn nod.
"Go, my son."
"Go with my blessing. Strike swiftly and protect our realms."
The army stood assembled under the shimmering arcs of the Bifrost, a hundred warriors clad in gleaming armor, their weapons catching the strange rainbow light.
At their head, Thor stood tall, his red cape billowing like a banner in the celestial winds.
In his hand, Mjölnir pulsed with quiet thunder.
He turned to Heimdall, the Dawn God whose golden eyes watched over the bridge.
"Heimdall!" Thor called. "Open the path. Take us to Vanaheim!"
Heimdall gazed at Thor for a long, weighted moment.
"You have changed, Odinson," Heimdall said, his voice deep and warm.
"Where once there was only strength, now I see wisdom too. Your father's blood runs true."
Thor dipped his head, a rare moment of humility flashing across his face.
"Thank you, old friend."
"Listen carefully." Heimdall said, raising his sword to the sky.
"The paths ahead are shrouded in darkness, mysteries even I cannot see through. If danger overwhelms you, call to me. I will find you, wherever you are."
With a sharp motion Heimdall struck the ground.
BOOM
The Bifrost roared to life, a beam of raw cosmic light surging upward into the heavens, swallowing Thor and his men.
Vanaheim
When the light faded, Thor found himself standing in an endless twilight.
The sky above was a heavy, swirling mass of black clouds.
There was no sun. No moon.
Only the faintest silver glimmers from distant stars, barely enough to see by.
The ground was cold, cracked, and broken, and the air was thick with a strange, choking mist.
Thor narrowed his eyes, the faint lightning crackling around Mjölnir sharpening his sight.
Behind him, the soldiers murmured uneasily.
"Stay close." Thor ordered through the gloom. "This place stinks of dark magic. Be ready for anything."
The army tightened their formation.
Thor tightened his grip on Mjölnir.
The hunt had begun.
Boots crunched over broken bones and shattered steel.
All around Thor and his men, the land was a graveyard, relics of a battle so old the earth itself seemed to sigh under its weight. Cracked helms, rotted banners, and rusted blades lay half-buried in the ashen soil.
Even after five thousand years, the ghosts of war clung to the air like a bitter perfume.
Thor knelt briefly, brushing his fingers over a splintered shield etched with ancient Asgardian runes.
"The scars run deep here."
Behind him, the soldiers shifted uneasily, their weapons glowing faintly with divine light as they pressed forward into the murk.
The golden aura barely pushed back the darkness, revealing only fragments of the ruins ahead.
Thor stood and addressed them.
"No sign of the dark elves yet."
"But we move onward. Toward the ancestral lands. The danger here hides in silence."
The warriors murmured their acknowledgment and tightened their formation.
Their march continued, slow and cautious, until they crossed into the heart of the dark elves' homeland.
What remained was a wasteland.
Crumbling towers, hollowed-out palaces, entire cities reduced to rubble and ruin.
It was as if time itself had forgotten this place.
Thor's eyes swept the devastation, a heavy sadness settling.
"Five thousand years... and not a soul left to remember them."
Beside him, Volstagg, his beard wild and dusted with ash, grunted.
"Maybe it's better that way." Volstagg muttered. "After what they did, they'd have no friends left in any realm."
Nearby, Hogun, the silent swordsman, rested a hand on the hilt of his blade, studying the remains thoughtfully.
"Pity, though." Hogun said.
"The dark elves may have been frail of body, but their battle arts were something fierce. If we'd learned their ways of forging strength..."
He trailed off, shaking his head.
"Might have been a treasure lost to time." Thor agreed grimly.
For several long days they searched, overturning stones, combing the ruins, peering into every hollow, but they found nothing.
No survivors. No hidden vaults.
Just dust.
It was almost enough to believe the dark elves had been wiped from existence.
Almost.
The stifling silence was broken by a sudden shout from the scouting party.
"Lord Thor!"
A young guard sprinted over, panting, armor clanking with each step. "We've found something, a distortion in the air! A barrier!"
"We can't breach it!"
Thor's entire stance shifted at once, his instincts flaring awake.
"Show me!"
The warriors moved swiftly, following the young guard across the cracked plain.
Near a collapsed tower, the air shimmered like heat waves over stone, invisible to normal eyes, but unmistakable to those attuned to magic.
Thor narrowed his eyes.
Something old and powerful slumbered behind that distortion.
He hefted Mjölnir.
"Stand back!"
With a roar, he hurled the hammer straight into the heart of the anomaly.
Lightning arced, thunder cracked so loud it rattled the bones of the earth.
But when the light faded, the shimmer remained. Untouched.
Thor growled low in his throat, stepping closer to inspect it.
"Stubborn relic."
"Just like the dark elves themselves."
Hogun approached, brow furrowed.
"What is it? Some kind of cloaking field?"
Thor nodded grimly.
"It's a sanctum. Hidden during the last war." He tapped a finger against his temple.
"I remember something... from the old scrolls. My grandfather wrote about it."
He snorted. "Typical. He barely left any real instructions. Just rants about 'those cursed elves' and how he broke their backs."
Volstagg scratched his beard thoughtfully.
"So, what now? Smash it harder?" He asked hopefully.
Thor shook his head.
"YES!"
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
Check out the new story: Garfield Across the Multiverse
PhantomDream