"This war is over."
Ebony Maw savored the thought as he gazed at the colossal sphere hanging in the sky, a tomb emitting a deathly silence. He knew that trapping the new God of Thunder with mere buildings was impossible. The true prison was the shimmering, pale blue light cocooning the structure—the raw power of the Tesseract. The divine energy of the Space Stone had formed a constantly collapsing cage, a gravity well so intense that not even light could escape.
The extinction of all things was the inevitable end. In that moment, Ebony Maw felt as if he had become Ragnarok itself, delivering a final, absolute death to Loki.
And next, he thought with a cruel smile, this planet.
He closed his eyes, his consciousness expanding across the city. He soon found Supergiant, locked in battle with the Hulk. The psychic warrior had recovered from the Hulk's initial, unexpected assault.
A few blocks away, the Hulk knelt on the ground, clutching his head and letting out a terrible, agonized roar. The mangled remains of Cull Obsidian were scattered across the snow like so much garbage, the dark blood staining the ground black. A hundred meters away, Supergiant was breathing heavily, the Mind Stone in her hand pulsing with a faint light. She watched the maddened Hulk with cold, calculating eyes.
At the cost of Cull Obsidian's life, she had finally found an opening. She had used her psychic abilities to invade the Hulk's mind, but what she found there was not a consciousness to be controlled, but a core of pure, indomitable rage. Controlling him was impossible.
But driving him completely insane? That she could do.
She had scrambled his brain, reverting him into a mindless beast of pure destruction and pointing him back toward his former allies. The Avengers' greatest weapon had once again become their enemy, smashing everything in sight without purpose or recognition.
Sensing this through their psychic link, an evil thought blossomed in Ebony Maw's mind. If I could acquire the Mind Stone…
He narrowed his eyes. Every being in the universe would become his puppet. The power of a single stone was limited by its wielder, but with multiple stones, they would form an infinite circuit, their power feeding each other, bypassing the weakness of their holder. He could become a true, omnipotent god. The thought made his breath catch in his throat, a greedy fire burning in his eyes.
But before he could act on his newfound ambition, a terrifying energy erupted from the sphere.
BOOM!
"What?!"
Ebony Maw looked up in astonishment as the massive sphere began to shake violently. Powerful energy surged from within its core. Like a dying planet, gushing fissures of lightning and thunder tore the structure apart. Another deafening boom echoed through the heavens. A massive electromagnetic pulse erupted outward, shattering the Tesseract's cage and tearing the planetoid of rubble to pieces.
A dragon of coiling lightning descended from the sky.
Loki floated in its center, the armor on his body gleaming. His face was devoid of expression, his eyes pure, gushing fonts of thunder. The rage was gone, replaced by a terrifying calm. He had seen the truth. Thor still lived. He had reconciled with his past, his father, and his fate.
"Ebony Maw," Loki's voice was as cold and final as the grave. "You will die now."
"How is this possible?" Maw looked as if he'd seen a ghost. The Asgardians were just another mortal race in the grand scheme of the cosmos. How could one of them possess the power to defy an Infinity Stone? "No one can resist the power of the Infinity Stones!"
After his brief shock, Maw frantically brandished the Tesseract, his hideous face contorted with a mixture of fear and inflated ambition. He could no longer see the gap in power between them. He raised the cube, but before he could even begin to channel its power, a thousand thunderbolts gathered as one.
Loki summoned Mjolnir to his right hand and the Casket of Ancient Winters to his left. Infinite divine power, eternal lightning, and the howling frost of a thousand years converged upon him. In that moment, his power surpassed even that of Thor in his prime. He had become a true God-King.
"The Tesseract is powerful," Loki said, his voice a calm death sentence. "But you are not worthy of unleashing its true power."
"No… Impossible…"
Under Ebony Maw's horrified gaze, Loki swung the hammer down, sealing his fate.
Instantly, a thousand bolts of lightning and a swirling blizzard of absolute zero descended as one, carrying with them absolute destruction.
The sky of Jotunheim held no light, only an endless, howling wind. The extreme cold cut at the skin like a razor, a bone-deep chill that never relented. In this world of ice and darkness, a fierce battle raged.
Looma Red Wind had lost count of how many Frost Giants she had defeated. These were not common soldiers; even the weakest among them was a formidable warrior, far stronger than the mass-produced Chitauri. She felt a deep ache in her four arms, and the warhammer in her primary hands felt heavier than usual. She gasped for breath, her four scarlet eyes fixed on the giants that surrounded her.
But they were not her true enemy.
Standing opposite her in the blizzard were two figures with blue-gray skin: Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight. She had sent a distress signal to Ben minutes ago, but there was no telling how long it would take for help to arrive.
Corvus Glaive held his signature, double-edged weapon, his eyes glowing with bloodlust as he sized her up. "You are fine prey," he rasped, a genuine smile on his lips. As a general of the Black Order, he reveled in the chaos of war.
Proxima Midnight stood beside him, tall and imposing in a black battle suit. Her left arm, from shoulder to fingertip, was encased in golden armor, and she held a matching golden spear.
"Who sent you?" Looma demanded. She loved a good fight, but she was no fool. These two were clearly not Frost Giants, and their purpose was singular. They were here for her. But she had been on the isolated planet of Sakaar for years; she had no external enemies. A guess formed in her mind. Did something happen to Ben's crew? Few knew she was on Jotunheim. Perhaps the Collector had learned of her existence and sent these assassins to add her to his collection.
But the way Proxima Midnight looked at her, with cold, murderous intent, dismissed that idea. Collectors wanted their prizes alive. These two had no such compunctions.
Before Looma could think further, they charged.
"RAAAGH!" Looma roared, stomping her feet and shattering the ancient ice beneath her.
Proxima's spear shot forward, a golden blur aimed at Looma's head. Simultaneously, Corvus swung his glaive like a windmill, a whirlwind of blades meant to rip her apart.
Facing the pincer attack, Looma didn't flinch. She twisted her head, letting the spear tip whistle past her ear. At the same time, she swung her warhammer, deflecting Corvus's glaive with a deafening clang. In the same fluid motion, one of her lower arms shot out and grabbed the shaft of Proxima's spear. She yanked the warrior woman off-balance while kicking out with her powerful right leg, catching Corvus square in the chest.
The entire sequence was over in a flash. The duo flew in opposite directions, stunned by her raw strength. Seeing their leaders stumble, the surrounding giants surged forward.
"Get out of my way!" Looma bellowed, smashing her hammer into the ground. A shockwave sent the giants flying. She then leaped forward, taking the fight back to the two generals. "Tell me who sent you!" she roared, bringing her hammer down again.
After their initial shock, Corvus and Proxima adapted. They were battle-hardened veterans of Thanos's armies, masters of combat. Alone, they were deadly; together, their synergy was legendary. They abandoned brute force and began to fight with skill and flexibility, their blade and spear leaving phantom afterimages in the storm. Aided by the endless tide of giants, they managed to fight the Tetramand champion to a standstill.
Proxima's spear blocked Looma's hammer, while Corvus's glaive spun like a meat grinder, its edge slicing deep into Looma's arms, dying the thousand-year-old ice field red with her blood.
But Looma seemed not to notice the pain. The battle, the wounds, only fueled her rage. She fought with increasing ferocity, her eternal power surging to meet the challenge. The two generals were beginning to feel the strain.
After being knocked back by another of Looma's furious blows, a mad glint appeared in Corvus Glaive's eyes. His hunched figure looked more cunning than ever.
"Proxima," he said, his voice a hoarse command. "Unleash the spear."
Proxima nodded grimly. She raised her golden spear high, and in the endless darkness of Jotunheim, it began to emit a blinding, golden light, as brilliant and hot as a newborn star.