The Imperial Palace of Asgard was in turmoil. Once tranquil, the golden halls now echoed with the clash of steel and the urgent shouts of warriors. Crimson banners fluttered in the chaos, and the air shimmered with the residue of ancient magic and advanced weaponry. Su Zhan moved through the disorder with purpose, his senses alert and his mind calculating his next move.
He observed Asgardian soldiers, renowned across the Nine Realms, abandoning their posts near the Treasury as they rushed to reinforce the outer defenses. Even the usually unflappable Einherjar looked unsettled as they hurried past. Su Zhan allowed himself a faint, satisfied smile. In the Marvel Universe, chaos often opened doors, and tonight, Asgard's greatest treasures were within his grasp.
He approached the massive doors of the treasure vault, their surface inlaid with runes that pulsed with protective magic. Su Zhan pressed his palm to the cold metal, feeling the ancient energy beneath his skin. With a deep breath, he pushed the doors open. They groaned as they swung wide, revealing a chamber that seemed to swallow light and sound.
For a moment, Su Zhan simply stood in awe. The vault was a legend come to life, filled with relics from across the cosmos, each humming with dormant power. Gold and jewels glittered in careless piles, but his attention was drawn to the center of the room, where a small, intricately carved box rested on a pedestal of obsidian.
He felt its presence immediately-a cold so intense it pierced his bones, making the etheric particles within him surge and swirl. The artifact radiated the chill of a thousand winters. Su Zhan's breath caught as he recognized it. This was the Casket of Ancient Winters, a relic containing the Fimbulwinter of Ymir. Legends claimed that when opened, it could unleash snowstorms so fierce that even Frost Giants would be overwhelmed
As he approached, the cold intensified, threatening to halt his very heartbeat. Even the virus lurking within him seemed to retreat, forced back by the artifact's supernatural frost. Su Zhan gritted his teeth, willing his body to generate heat, molten energy flowing through his veins to stave off the cold.
He reached out, fingers trembling, and summoned his system. "System, store the artifact," he commanded.
A shimmer of light enveloped the Casket of Ancient Winters, and in the blink of an eye, it vanished into his inventory. Relief washed over him, and he allowed himself a small, triumphant grin. In the Marvel Universe, power was everything, and he had just claimed a weapon capable of freezing entire realms.
Yet, Su Zhan knew the vault held more than one legendary prize. In the shadows, he glimpsed the Tesseract, housing the Space Stone, one of the six Infinity Stones, each embodying a fundamental aspect of existence. The Eternal Flame flickered in a crystal vial, its inextinguishable fire holding the true power of Surtur, the fire demon. Odin had stolen it and kept it here for centuries, knowing it could bring about Ragnarok if returned to Surtur3. An obelisk of Inhuman origin pulsed with energy, promising to awaken latent abilities in anyone exposed to it. Each artifact was a legend, capable of altering the fate of the universe.
He was about to reach for the next relic when the ground shuddered beneath his feet. A guttural roar echoed through the vault, sending a chill up his spine. Su Zhan spun around just in time to see a monstrous figure filling the doorway-the Kurse, Malekith's most fearsome lieutenant.
Su Zhan's mind raced. According to the plan, the Kurse should have been sabotaging the palace defenses, not confronting him here. Had Malekith already breached Asgard's inner sanctum? Was this brute here for the Aether?
No matter. Su Zhan squared his shoulders and summoned the Aether, which swirled around him like living shadow. "Let's see what you're made of," he muttered, his voice steady.
The Kurse charged forward, each step shaking the vault. Su Zhan met him head-on, channeling the Aether into a spear of pure darkness. With a cry, he drove the spear through the monster's chest. The Kurse's eyes widened in shock, a guttural snarl dying on his lips. In a final act of desperation, he hurled a grenade-like device at Su Zhan before collapsing, his head lolling lifelessly.
Su Zhan's eyes widened as he recognized the device. It was a singularity grenade, one of the Dark Elves' most terrifying weapons. On detonation, it would create a miniature black hole, swallowing everything in its radius. Without hesitation, Su Zhan summoned the Aether to shield himself and leaped back as the grenade detonated. The pedestal that had held the Casket of Ancient Winters was sucked into oblivion, erased from existence.
He exhaled, heart pounding. "That's one way to cover my tracks," he thought, glancing at the empty space where the artifact had been. The destruction would serve as the perfect alibi-no one would suspect the Casket had been stolen.
The explosion had drawn attention. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder by the second. Su Zhan knew he could not linger. He forced the Aether back into his body, but the effort left him drained. His knees buckled, and he slumped to the floor, chest heaving.
Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out. "Su Zhan! What are you doing here?" Sif burst into the vault, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene-the fallen Kurse, the ruined vault, and Su Zhan sprawled on the floor.
He managed a weak grin. "He chased me," Su Zhan replied, nodding toward the Kurse's corpse.
Sif's jaw dropped. "You… you killed the Kurse? That's impossible!"
Su Zhan shrugged, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "Never judge a book by its cover," he quipped.
Sif's gaze darted to the empty pedestal. "Where's the Casket of Ancient Winters?" she demanded.
"It's gone," Su Zhan replied smoothly. "That brute threw a vortex grenade. Sucked the whole thing into nothingness."
Sif frowned, but there was no time for interrogation. "We have to leave. Malekith's forces are everywhere, and they're looking for you. My orders are to keep you safe!" she insisted, her tone brooking no argument.
Su Zhan tried to stand, but his body refused to cooperate. The toll of wielding the Aether was immense. Sif knelt beside him, her expression softening. "Come on, I'll carry you," she said, sliding his arm over her shoulders.
He hesitated, embarrassed, coloring his cheeks. "You're really going to carry me? Isn't that a little undignified?"
Sif rolled her eyes. "Who told you to overexert yourself? If Malekith finds you, it will be trouble for all of us."
With no other choice, Su Zhan allowed her to lift him. Sif carried him with surprising ease, her stride steady and sure. For a moment, Su Zhan was acutely aware of the closeness-the warmth of her body, the strength in her arms. It was both humbling and oddly comforting.
After a few moments, Su Zhan spoke up, his voice teasing. "Hey, Sif, you can put me down now. I am not that helpless."
She shot him a glare. "Do you think I want to carry you? I am just following orders."
He shook his head, determination returning to his eyes. "Running is not a solution. Unless you can get me out of Asgard, Malekith will keep coming. Let me down," he insisted, sliding off her back before she could protest.
He straightened, looking her in the eye. "You know, I've heard you like real warriors. If I defeat Malekith, will you go out with me?" he asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.
Sif's cheeks flushed. "You think you can beat Malekith just because you have the Aether? They are useless against him."
Su Zhan's eyes narrowed, his voice steady. "Who said I need the Aether to win?"
Sif regarded him for a long moment, then nodded. "Fine. If you defeat Malekith, I will admit you are a true warrior-and I will consider your offer."
A slow, confident smile spread across Su Zhan's face. He turned, eyes blazing with resolve, just as the shadows in the corridor deepened and Malekith himself stepped into the light, his presence chilling the very air.