Umbrella Corporation's latest masterpiece!
A super-soldier created by Compound No. 1!
Umbrella Corporation's No. 1 special operative—Sephiroth!
As it happened, Zod had conjured up a Dragon-level monster to serve as Sephiroth's stage, and so, before a watching world, Sephiroth effortlessly cut the Dragon-level monster down with a single Eight-Slash Flash!
The whole world was stunned, though Zod Heath still made it clear that Compound No. 1 would not be sold—it would only be granted as a reward to exceptional talent within the company.
And with that, the attention of many talented individuals was drawn.
If joining Umbrella Corporation before had been about its nation-level strength, then now, after seeing Sephiroth's performance, plenty of people were willing to give their lives to Umbrella Corporation even if it was just for power.
At the same time, there were plenty of ill-intentioned people who wanted to get their hands on Compound No. 1, though they quickly learned that there was no ready-made supply of it. It was all formulated by Zod Heath himself, and no one but him knew how to develop it.
Of course, Compound No. 1 didn't actually exist—it was just a cover to allow Umbrella Corporation to openly field all manner of super-soldiers.
…
Long before light existed, there was darkness, and darkness gave birth to the Dark Elves. Thousands of years ago, the most brutal of the Dark Elves, Malekith, sought to return the universe to endless darkness, and an ancient weapon like the Aether—capable of destroying all things—could easily help him achieve that wicked goal.
At that time, the spaces of the Nine Realms were about to align. Had Malekith been able to unleash the Aether, there would have been no more light in the universe. And so Bor, the previous king of Asgard—father of the All-Father—led the holy armies of the Realm Eternal against these vile Dark Elves just as Malekith was about to accomplish his aim. Using the convenience of the Bifrost, they snatched the Aether away right before the Dark Elves' eyes. Robbed of that weapon, the Dark Elves fell back step by step before the blades of Asgard's holy army.
But Malekith was no benevolent ruler. Survival means hope; only the living can realize their ambitions—this was a truth he understood beyond all doubt.
Whether it meant sacrificing his subordinates to stall Asgard's holy army, or having them drag the enemy down with them in mutual destruction, Malekith felt not the slightest reluctance. If anything, with Asgard having stolen his weapon, such fury could only be cleansed with blood.
This war would not end there. Their deaths merely bought a somewhat prolonged intermission.
The king of Asgard had announced to his warriors at the time that the Aether had been destroyed. In truth, it had only been buried deep in a place no one could find.
"The Aether… awakens us."
In the space of the solar system, the void was not utterly dark and lightless. Yet somewhere, a dim glow flickered to life. It was a flagship that had been drifting through this region for who knew how many years. Its aging power core gradually heated, light pulsing from within, and someone awoke from a slumber that had lasted thousands of years.
No—not a person, strictly speaking. A primate, one might say, for this race had been born of darkness itself: the Dark Elves.
Thousands of years ago, the Dark Elves' plan to plunge the universe back into darkness had been ruthlessly shattered by Asgard via the Bifrost. Malekith had sacrificed his subordinates to flee into the far reaches of space, eluding the pursuit of Asgard's holy army. But clearly, that had not been the end. The Dark Elves were waking now precisely to push that plan forward once more.
Incidentally, they also had to thank whoever had gotten the Aether sealed away as far as Asgard was concerned.
Malekith awoke from the darkness, and the first thing his eyes met was the light he despised.
"Damned Asgard! Damned Bor!"
Watching the Dark Elves gradually rousing throughout the flagship, a faint smile crept across Malekith's aging, weathered face. The warriors who had survived that war were the capital with which he would rise again. But before that, Malekith wanted to return home.
He wanted to return to Svartalfheim. He could imagine just how ruined Svartalfheim must be now, yet Malekith still wanted to go back—simply because it was where he belonged.
"The continuation of our race is the legacy left to future generations. My fearless warriors—I will see the Asgardians fall into circumstances even crueler than the ones we have tasted. But before that, we must return to our homeland. We must reclaim the Aether. I will restore our world. I will—put an end to this universe, so steeped in poison!"
"I will sacrifice myself, just as our people sacrificed themselves for us in the past. We shall become darkness, and in darkness find our fulfillment!"
Like a pre-battle rally, Malekith looked out over the Dark Elves all awakening from their long slumber throughout the flagship, his words building toward a pitch that could set Dark Elf blood ablaze. But before any Dark Elf warrior could answer him, Malekith's adjutant, Algrim, walked to his side with a grim expression and murmured into his ear.
"Your will, my lord."
The Dark Elves' distinctive salute. Algrim responded in a low voice.
"I will be your vanguard. I will shatter the defenses of your enemies and aid you in forging a new universe!"
The Dark Elf flagship returned to their homeland—a war ruin left from thousands of years before. Though it was the Dark Elves themselves who had reduced their homeland to this state, seeing such a desolate, broken planet only fueled their rage, only deepened their hatred of Asgard.
"Algrim, have you locked onto the Aether's location?"
Gazing out at the desolation before him, Malekith asked, his voice low and dark.
At this moment, Malekith could no longer suppress the impulse to destroy Asgard.
Algrim answered.
"Confirmed. The Aether is on Midgard."
"That backward, lowly planet?"
Though he had no idea why the Aether was on Midgard instead of Asgard, Malekith didn't see it as any real obstacle. If anything, the Aether not being on Asgard was ideal—it meant they could reclaim it all the more easily, then destroy Asgard with even fuller preparations.
"Make the arrangements, Algrim. The Dark Elves will need an inside agent on Asgard. All other members will follow the flagship with me to Midgard, to reclaim the vessel that will grant us glory!"
"Understood!"
Of course, Malekith had never actually gotten to wield the Aether's power before Asgard's favorite teleport-and-backstab tactic stole it away. But there was no denying that Malekith was a decent leader. His caliber as a warrior might not match that of his second, Algrim, but Malekith possessed skills beyond his command of the battlefield.
/-\
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