On a desolate planet near Titan, a team of sorcerers moved meticulously, carving intricate textures into the ground. Upon closer inspection, their appearance was far from ordinary. Their eyes were sunken, shadowed by dark circles, and their spectral-like figures exuded an unsettling aura. These weren't mere sorcerers—they were fallen ones, corrupted beings who had drawn their power from the Dark Dimension.
This planet, over the course of several years, had been transformed into a massive network of magical circles. In fact, the entire planet had essentially become one colossal magic array.
"It's done," one of the sorcerers declared as the final rune was etched into place. They stepped back, their gazes lifting to the sky where Surtur, the Flame Giant, lingered in the distance like a malevolent specter.
Since Titan's destruction five years ago, Surtur had wandered aimlessly, as though devoid of purpose. The sorcerers exchanged a glance and nodded in unison. With precise coordination, they unleashed a barrage of magical lightning, sending brilliant streaks of energy hurtling toward the Flame Giant.
"Boom…"
The strikes were inconsequential to Surtur, akin to mosquito bites. Yet, they achieved their goal: provoking the monstrous being.
"ROAR!"
With a furious bellow, Surtur's towering form surged toward the attackers, flames radiating with blistering intensity. The leading sorcerer, unfazed, activated a Sling Ring, opening a portal for the group. They vanished in an instant, reappearing aboard a waiting spaceship.
Deprived of its targets, Surtur's rage boiled over. Its blazing eyes turned toward the planet below, and with a thunderous cry, it raised the Twilight Sword high. The massive blade descended, piercing deep into the planet's core.
"BOOM!"
The impact was catastrophic. The planet quaked violently before shattering into fragments. Simultaneously, the magical circles inscribed across its surface blazed to life, releasing a dazzling light that enveloped Surtur's colossal body.
"ROAR!" Surtur howled, thrashing against the light that constricted it like chains.
Aboard the distant spaceship, the fallen ones watched with frenzied excitement. This was the culmination of their efforts—a Super Transfer Circle designed to transport a being of Surtur's magnitude. Ordinary teleportation was insufficient for a creature of such power, but this ritual, fueled by years of preparation, had the strength to achieve the impossible.
As the magic surged, the fallen ones began to scream. Dark runes etched themselves across their bodies, converging at their hearts and tracing along their veins. Their forms convulsed violently as the dark energy they had absorbed, along with their life force and magical power, was ripped from their bodies.
"AHHH!"
One by one, the fallen ones aged rapidly, their skin shriveling until they were reduced to lifeless husks. In mere moments, their corpses turned to mummified remains, a grim testament to the cost of wielding borrowed power. The allure of the Dark Dimension came with an unforgiving price.
Even Kaecilius, who once betrayed the Ancient One and dismantled the sanctuaries to serve Dormammu, had met a similar fate. Dormammu, ever treacherous, had no qualms about using his followers as expendable pawns.
Back at the shattered planet, the final sacrifice infused the magic circle with unparalleled energy. The light surged, binding Surtur completely. With a final, earth-shaking roar, the Flame Giant vanished, leaving behind only the fragmented remains of the planet as evidence of the chaos.
Outside Asgard's atmosphere, the sky tore open. Through the rift, ten towering Flame Giants emerged, their presence a harbinger of destruction. Even with the sacrifices made by the fallen ones, it was impossible to teleport Surtur directly to Asgard. Yet this proximity was sufficient for the Flame Giant to detect the realm's unmistakable aura.
"I am the end of Asgard!" Surtur bellowed, its voice echoing across the void as it surged toward its target with terrifying speed.
The moment Surtur appeared, Asgard's defenses sprang into action. A piercing alarm resounded, and a golden streak of energy shot into the sky, striking Surtur's neck and causing the giant to stagger.
Carol Danvers, radiant with power, launched another attack, aiming to disrupt Surtur's advance. But the Flame Giant swatted her aside effortlessly, grabbing her like a ragdoll and flinging her into the distance.
Simultaneously, spikes imbued with a chilling aura of death pierced Surtur's chest. Hela had entered the fray, her dark magic slicing through the air as she attacked with lethal precision.
"ROAR!"
Below, Loki paced frantically, his voice rising in panic. "Why is this giant back again? Damn it! It must not reach the ground, or we're all doomed!"
Heimdall, ever vigilant, stepped forward. "Your Highness," he said with calm urgency, "we must report this to His Majesty. The King must decide our next move. If there's no other option, we may need to use the Bifrost again, as we did five years ago."