Dormammu grew angrier the more he thought about it. Terrifying flames coalesced in his hands as he reached out toward the endless void. A moment later, a phantom-like figure of Kaecilius appeared in his palm.
"Lord Dormammu? I knew I wouldn't die! As long as you are here—"
"No, you will die. Your repeated failures are nothing but a burden to me. Aside from that, you are nothing! It's better for you to perish early and merge with my Dark Dimension for eternity."
With Kaecilius' final scream, Dormammu crushed his soul, reducing it to its most primal energy before absorbing it into the Dark Dimension.
Kaecilius would not be alone, for he would join the countless dead planets within the Dark Dimension—worlds built upon the remains of billions of lost lives.
Dormammu then launched himself toward Earth. At that moment, the vast Dark Dimension tore open a terrifying rift, stretching across the solar system.
During this process, Dormammu noticed a strange technological construct being swallowed into his realm. However, such occurrences were not uncommon, so he paid it no mind.
Across the planet, people instinctively sensed something amiss. They looked up in shock, their faces frozen in horror. Even ordinary individuals without supernatural abilities felt as though an unimaginable terror was staring at them from across an unfathomable distance. A bone-deep chill gripped their souls, while a mind-consuming despair swept over the entire world.
In the face of such a cosmic-level threat, Earth felt insignificantly small.
Governments and organizations scrambled to investigate the source of this phenomenon, exhausting every possible method. The most powerful figures on the planet prepared for the worst.
To cause such a disturbance, the entity approaching had to be an unimaginably fearsome foe from the depths of the universe.
"What's happening? I feel so cold… like countless voices are screaming inside my head!"
"Oh my God, look through the telescope! There's a massive rift in space!"
"Is it a god or a demon? Why has it come to Earth?"
"An Xenomorph… I want to become an Xenomorph!!"
Desperate efforts were made to uncover the identity of this unknown arrival, but against an adversary of this magnitude, all attempts felt utterly futile.
For the first time, modern humanity was forced to confront an existence of this level—an interdimensional demon god.
The mountains trembled. The oceans roared.
On the moon, Black Bolt had already donned his battle armor. His cold, emotionless face remained unreadable as he lifted his gaze toward the rift where the Dark Dimension met reality.
As a Skyfather-level entity, Black Bolt knew more than most. He was well aware of how dangerous Dormammu was.
Yet he had no choice. If Earth perished, the Moon would not be spared.
However, Black Bolt did not act recklessly. He alone was far from being a match for Dormammu. Instead, he focused on observing the events unfolding on Earth.
In the next moment, a powerful surge of magical energy erupted from the planet. Three supreme sorcerers had intervened.
For a brief moment, Black Bolt—and countless others—felt a small sense of relief.
The upheaval on Midgard spread rapidly through Yggdrasil, reaching the other realms in no time. Soon, every world sensed Dormammu's arrival.
Nearly every realm had a Skyfather-level guardian.
On distant battlefields, the warring Asgardians and Jotuns instinctively ceased fighting, stepping back in silent agreement as they awaited the outcome on Midgard.
Even Odin couldn't help but rise from his throne, gazing toward Midgard.
"The ruler of the Dark Dimension… His power is no less than that of the Celestials—perhaps even harder to deal with in some ways."
Odin could see it clearly. Dormammu had come with overwhelming force, determined to accomplish his goal at any cost.
In past battles, Dormammu had rarely gained the upper hand against the Ancient One. But this time? Was he truly confident he could devour Earth? Was that why he had assembled such a formidable presence?
"It seems I can no longer remain idle. A thousand years ago, Dormammu would never have dared—"
Weariness flickered across Odin's face.
The immense Odinforce constantly weighed on his body and mind, pushing him to the brink of collapse. He could feel that he was nearing his limits.
The Asgardian gods grew stronger with age, their divine power increasing over time. In theory, an elder Asgardian would be at their peak in their later years. But when they approached the end of their lifespan, their fall from power was just as rapid.
The very energy they had accumulated over a lifetime would ultimately become the force that crushed them.
Odin suspected that Loki's false rumors about his death had emboldened many—including Laufey and now Dormammu.
Odin assessed his condition. Even with Gungnir in hand and the Destroyer armor at his disposal, he was uncertain if he could defeat Dormammu. But Laufey? That would not be a problem.
"I'll see what the Ancient One has planned first. If she truly cannot hold the line, then I will step in. Protecting the Nine Realms is the duty of the King of Asgard. But after this battle… Laufey will be Thor and Loki's responsibility."
A hint of worry flashed in Odin's eyes.
Meanwhile, aboard the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier…
Nick Fury calculated the location of the rift and instinctively compared it to the Helicarrier's entire arsenal—then immediately abandoned the idea. Instead, he asked, "So our prototype was swallowed by whatever is in that rift? Still no way to identify the entity?"
"None," Hill replied. "But given the scale of this reaction from Kamar-Taj, it's almost certainly an otherworldly entity. This is the enemy they've been preparing to face."
A heavy silence filled the Helicarrier.
Fury's face darkened further.
The prototype project was supposed to be his trump card against mutants and the growing forces of Latveria. But if it had been lost to this monstrosity…
Now, the situation had taken a turn for the worse. The Mother Mold's carrier platform was nearly in place, positioned at the edge of the sun—one of the safest and least expected locations to begin developing and mass-producing combat weapons. But instead, it had vanished, lost to an unknown domain.
Creating a second Mother Mold platform would take an immeasurable amount of time.
More importantly, the chances of information leaks had skyrocketed.
This left Nick Fury, already exhausted in both mind and body, on the verge of coughing up blood. Not only had he lost the Mother Mold, but he now also had to deal with an unknown demonic entity.
Even if the Ancient One successfully defeated the enemy, then what? As the head of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury had no idea how to contain the inevitable global panic.
Was he supposed to tell the world that this was all just an elaborate virtual reality performance? That there were no Xenomorphs, no gods, no demons, no extradimensional threats?
It was impossible. There was no way to cover this up.
"I understand why the Ancient One is prepared, but what I don't get is why Duncan qualifies to be involved. Why did she choose him? Does someone like him seriously have the potential to inherit her mantle?"
Duncan looked up at the sky, also struggling to understand what was unfolding.
"In your previous encounters with Dormammu, was he always this blatant? Acting so openly? I'm worried he's about to get swarmed by an army of All-Fathers from the World Tree."
"This is normal. Dormammu is cunning, but above all, he is supremely arrogant and egotistical," the Ancient One replied.
Duncan nodded slightly. "Still, I appreciate his way of saying hello. No unnecessary deception, just pure, straightforward confrontation. Regardless of how this battle ends, the world will never be the same. It will be set on an entirely new trajectory. I'm guessing that even in all your glimpses of the future, you've never seen a moment quite like this?"
Even if this Ancient One had a unique way of handling things—likely one of the few across the multiverse bold enough to play mind games with gods of such immense power—Duncan believed that, at her core, she shared the same fundamental trait as all other versions of the Ancient One: an unwavering dedication to protecting Earth.
"After this battle, Kamar-Taj's existence will be fully exposed. Even ordinary people will be frantically searching for proof of your presence. It looks like your era of protecting Earth from the shadows is coming to an end."
The Ancient One remained silent for a moment before responding, "There won't be a future to worry about if we lose. There won't even be an Earth left to consider."
"Fair point."
"When the battle begins, you'll assist me."
With a wave of her hand, two floating cloaks appeared—one red, one blue.
"The red cloak can envelop the entire solar system. The blue one can shield the Earth. You may choose one."
"Why can't I take both?" Duncan asked, intrigued by the cloaks.
The Ancient One gazed at him calmly, unfazed by his response.
Duncan smiled slightly and immediately called for Reynolds.
Reynolds reached for the red cloak, but it actively resisted him. Undeterred, he grabbed hold of it and forcefully wrapped it around his shoulders, securing it at his neck.
"I've been working on my own battle suit lately. It always felt like something was missing. Now it's complete."
He grinned, revealing sharp teeth.
A sentient cloak that could think for itself and assist in combat? Reynolds was more than satisfied. The only problem was that the cloak didn't seem particularly cooperative—yet. But he was confident in his ability to win it over.
"Just to be clear," Reynolds said hesitantly, looking up at the sky, "Boss, you're not seriously expecting me to fight that thing, are you?"
"Relax. You're just assisting. Follow the Supreme Sorcerer's lead. My will shall be with you."
That reassurance eased Reynolds' nerves slightly. If Duncan believed in something, it was usually enough to calm him down.
Besides, the so-called Supreme Sorcerer—reputedly the strongest person on Earth—was personally leading the charge.
Reynolds felt the power radiating from the cloak and turned his gaze to the Ancient One, who now wore the blue cloak.
"Don't even think about it, Reynolds," Duncan warned. "She's not your usual kind of opponent. She'd kill you in an instant."
"But you said I was stronger than anyone else."
Duncan sighed. "That was just to boost your confidence. Don't take it literally."
The Ancient One's calm demeanor was not to be mistaken for weakness—it was the quiet confidence of someone who knew their strength was absolute.
If Reynolds really tried to challenge her, it would be an entirely different story.
"The magic formations are fully activated, and my forces are in position. What's your battle strategy?" Duncan asked.
Since the Ancient One was leading the charge and he was merely assisting, she had to have a detailed plan.
The Ancient One's expression remained serene. "There is no plan. Just follow me and charge in. If you have any weapons prepared, now's the time to use them—otherwise, you might not get another chance."
She then added, "One more thing: based on what I know of Dormammu, he might not even be here for me. He might not even be here for Earth."
Duncan's eyes narrowed in thought, recalling how obsessed Kaecilius had been with him.
"Hmm. I see. I thought I was just here to play a supporting role, but it turns out—"
He looked up at the ever-expanding rift in the sky, where a massive, otherworldly eye had now emerged, gazing down at them.
"Dormammu."
Reynolds swallowed hard.
"Reynolds, remember what I told you?" Duncan said, eyes locked on the celestial horror above. "You're strong—stronger than you even realize. And now, it's time for you to fully unleash that potential."
His tone turned grave.
"Embrace your true nature—as an Xenomorph."