"Kurse!"
Thor gasped the name the moment he saw the transformation complete.
He knew the stories. Legends whispered in the Golden Halls of Asgard spoke of the Dark Elves' ultimate weapon: the Kurse. A creature of pure destruction, said to possess strength enough to rival the Hulk. Even a hundred of Asgard's elite Einherjar fighting as one couldn't hope to bring such a monster down.
Of course, those were just legends. The war between Asgard and the Dark Elves happened thousands of years before Thor was even born. He wasn't terrified, but a cold spike of caution drove itself into his heart.
Thor was cautious. Tony, however, was pissed off.
Feeling humiliated by getting swatted away earlier, Iron Man scrambled back to his feet. His thrusters flared to life, and he rocketed toward the hulking monstrosity.
"Hey! You ugly, char-broiled—"
Tony didn't get to finish the insult. The Kurse didn't even bother to look; it just lazily backhanded the air.
CLANG!
The sound was deafening.
Tony, who had been charging forward at high speed, was launched backward at twice the velocity.
CRASH! BOOM! CRUNCH!
Iron Man punched through one brick wall, then another, finally skidding to a halt inside the ruins of a collapsed shop.
"Uh... Mr. Stark? Are you here to rescue us?"
Jane Foster and Dr. Eric Selvig, whom Gwen had hidden in this exact secluded ruin just minutes ago, stared blankly at the Armored Avenger lying in a heap at their feet.
They blinked in confusion.
Is this how superheroes find people?
Is crashing through three walls the standard tactical entry?
Why does he look so... beaten up?
While Jane and Eric tried to process the situation, Gwen swung back into the area. She had been out pulling civilians from the rubble but had rushed back when she heard the commotion. She assumed the aliens had found the scientists.
Instead, she saw Iron Man groaning on the floor. She froze.
"Mr. Stark?"
Inside the helmet, Tony was concussed. His HUD was flashing red with warnings and system failures. He could vaguely hear Gwen's voice, but his vision was swimming. He forced his eyes open, seeing only the girl in the spider-suit.
"Where's... where's the brat? Where's Luca?" Tony slurred, his voice weak.
Gwen didn't know how to answer. Truthfully, she didn't have time to.
Her rescue efforts earlier hadn't gone unnoticed. A squad of Dark Elf infantry, armed with energy rifles, was closing in on their position. With Tony down and the scientists exposed, they were cornered.
Gwen gritted her teeth. She pulled her hood tight and adjusted her mask, hiding the fear on her face. There was no one else. She leaped forward to hold the line.
---
Meanwhile, Thor's situation was rapidly deteriorating.
He had seen Tony get swatted like a fly. He wanted to help, but he still had one hand wrapped around Malekith's throat. For a split second, the God of Thunder hesitated—should he snap the leader's neck now, or deal with the monster first?
That split second was all Malekith needed.
"Algrim! Kill him!"
The command snapped both fighters into action. Thor raised Mjolnir, deciding to end the Dark Elf leader right then and there.
But the Kurse was faster.
The ground beneath the monster's feet shattered as it launched itself forward. Before Thor could even bring the hammer down, the Kurse was in his face.
A fist, heavy as a falling mountain, slammed into Thor's shoulder.
It didn't feel like a punch. It felt like a planetary collision.
Thor was launched like a cannonball. He tore a trench through the asphalt, smashing through debris and widening the street with his own body.
"Algrim, handle the trash," Malekith sneered.
Seeing his lieutenant dominating the Asgardian Prince, Malekith turned his back on the fight and walked calmly toward his ship.
Thor flew backward for hundreds of yards, crashing through obstacles until his momentum was finally arrested by a parked car.
CRUNCH.
The sedan crumpled like a soda can under the Asgardian's dense frame. The alarm immediately started blaring.
An elderly man with white hair and sunglasses, holding a set of keys, stood on the sidewalk, jaw dropped as he stared at his brand-new vehicle.
"Hey! Kid! That's my ride!"
Thor, groggy and aching, ignored the old man's complaint. He shook the glass off his cape and stood up.
In the distance, the Kurse was already charging again, picking up speed with every heavy step.
Thor's eyes narrowed. He spun Mjolnir by the leather strap, the uru metal humming with power.
"Have at thee!"
Thor hurled the hammer with everything he had. It was a throw meant to shatter mountains, a streak of lightning aimed directly at the monster's face.
But then, the impossible happened.
WHAM!
A sound like a massive church bell ringing echoed across the city.
The Kurse didn't dodge. It didn't block. It swung its massive arm and backhanded Mjolnir out of the air.
Thor watched, stunned, as his unstoppable hammer was knocked off course, spinning wildly into a building. A cold sensation of dread washed over him. Mjolnir had never been deflected like that.
In that moment of shock, the Kurse closed the distance.
The monster moved too fast for its size, becoming a black blur. It slammed into Thor with the force of a freight train.
"ROAR!!"
Bellowing with rage, the Kurse tackled Thor—and the wrecked car he was standing in front of—and plowed them both down the street.
The shockwave of their passage blew the hat right off the old man's head.
The white-haired senior watched his beret flutter away, then looked at the useless keys in his hand. He sighed, shaking his head.
"Sheesh. Heroes these days. No respect for property. You gotta focus, kid!"
Grumbling, the old man tossed the keys into a trash can. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a massive keyring loaded with fobs, and clicked a different one.
Chirp-chirp.
A bright yellow Lamborghini parked nearby flashed its lights.
"Excelsior," he muttered, hopping into the sports car and peeling out of the warzone.