Pym and the Enchantress could hear the sound of metal against rock. The two turn their heads and notice the mechanical nightmares coming at them. Spider-like Ultrons shuffled toward them at a frantic speed. They were quickly joined by more ordinary Ultrons.
"Embrace Ultron." They said in cold mechanic unity. A figure stood between the Enchantress, Dr. Pym, and the android army. Balder the Brave raised his sword against the armies of Ultron.
"Lady Amora, Dr. Pym, you have my word that not one of these vile creatures shall reach you."
"Perhaps. Friend Balder, you would like some assistance." A voice came from behind the group. They turned their heads to see the new help, The Warriors Three, Fandral the Dashing, Hogun the Grim, and Volstagg the Valient.
*********
"Negative Zone Projector....79% Remaining," the voice of Ultron boomed through out the sky. A massive steel arm came crashing down knocking Thor onto the surface of the giant Ultron structure. The surface looked like it was moving. It was actually swarms of nanobots.
"The ancient texts of your people note the end times as Ragnarok. The end times are here Thor can you feel it?" The swarms of nanobots begun to take form. "I will shape a new Asgard in my image. Midgard will be wiped out." The nanobots stopped moving a formed a shape. It looked like a person but completely silver. A sword flowed out of his arm and into his hand.
"Do you recognize us, Thor?" Ultron's nanobots had taken the form of Loki. His red eyes stared at his fallen "brother". He raised his sword and swung down at Thor's neck.
As the blade fell the Lord of Asgard raised his enchanted hammer to block the blow. The nano sword slammed hard into Mjolnir's leather bound handle and recoiled violently, showering the face of "Loki" in sparks that only served to make him seem more menacing.
With a powerful shrug of his shoulders and push of his mighty legs, the Thunderer vaulted to his feet and sent his foe staggering a few steps back.
"Take whatever form you wish Ultron!" he growled as he swung at "Loki's" head and missed "You will not win this day!"
But even as he said the words, Thor could feel himself tiring, slowing. He knew then that he was expending too much energy, that his foe was winning. And that was before he felt the horrible stabbing pain in his stomach and looked down to see the nanite lance that began as an extension of "Loki's" finger and ended about two inches inside his body. The lance gashed his insides as if it was alive and sadistic, and he yelped out in pain despite himself.
Gritting his teeth he took hold of the lance and snapped it, freeing himself and covering his wound with his palm even as he leaped forward and crushed the Loki's head with Mjolnir in one fluid motion.
The head shattered into a flowing mass of nanites that spread outward like a miniature explosion only to suddenly reverse their flow and reform as if they had not been harmed at all.
The God of Thunder, tasted blood in his mouth and felt his head spin and his legs deaden but he raised Mjolnir again and was about to bring it crashing down on his foe when a powerful force beam shot out of "Loki's" eyes and washed over him, burning away most of what remained of his armor and searing his flesh.
Thor screamed in agony and that scream echoed across the battlefield, drowning out the sounds of battle and the cries of the other wounded and dying. Then, finally, he toppled to his hands and knees while Mjolnir fell in the snow beside him.
Before him the Loki grinned wickedly and the booming metallic voice in the sky declared "Negative Zone Projector....94% Remaining. Activation Imminent"
******
Meanwhile, far to the West, at the Stronghold of Bor, another desperate battle was being fought as one third of the Aesir, under the command of The Battlequeen Sif, fought to hold back that had been steadily advancing for hours now and would soon have them overrun.
At what was left of the front the Battlequeen herself valiantly led her weary and outnumbered troops with sword and shield in hand. Together they fought for honor, for victory, for the lives of those who they protected, those who could not fight for themselves, and above all, for a glorious death worthy of the gods.
But far within the bowels of the besieged fortress is one who does not share the Aesir's sentimentalities. She has the form and feel of Aya the maiden and her expression mimicks the one of grim acceptance and bravery worn by the young boy who sits besider her in this secure room but in truth she feels neither acceptance nor bravery for Aya is in fact Malekith the dark elf and Malekith would not see himself dead along side the hated Asgardians.
For the past hour he has racked his mind for a spell or a trick or an illusion. Some means of escape. Some way to be gone from this place and the war taking place around him. At one point he cursed himself for his own scheming nature. Afterall, had he not eliminated the girl Aya and taken her place as the prince's, as Loki's son's, maid, he would not be here now. He/She looked then into the eye's of the boy Modi and saw the total lack of fear, the disregard for the foe, and more, he saw the potential for heartless ambition, the willingness to do whatever needed to be done, that was all of Prince of Lies.
You are Loki's son Malekith thought bitterly Had our doom not come on this day you would have brought me my long awaited triumph. Of that I am sure.
He sighed then and the Prince looked at him and patted his/her golden blonde hair.
"Are you afraid Aya?" the boy asked matter of factly.
Malekith wanted to reply in the negatice, to maintain the charade of Asgardian stoicness, but the truth was that his throat was dry with fear and all he managed was a timid and unconvincing shake of his head.
"You should not be." The prince said easily "We are gods afterall, ours is the glory and might and the right. Was it not you who taught me that? Did you not say that all my enemies would die by my hand and languish in Hela's realm?"
He again stroked her hair not unlike how one would stroke a favorite pet.
"Be easy Aya, we can not die here, for it is my destiny to rule all that is." he said with total conviction and sureness.
Malekith might have felt pride then, to know that his lessons were taking root in the boy's mind but the next instant saw the door to their chamber splinter and break inwards as a trio of Ultron robots who had slipped past the exterior defenders marched in with weapons brandished, as if mocking the young Prince's just recently made declaration.
The chamber's two guards lay lifeless in puddles of their own blood, now helpless in this life as their are in Hela's realm and Malekith felt the panic rise in his chest and called for help as he held the boy out before him.
The prince stared at his foes coldly, with eyes full of hate and disdain. As if his lack of fear made them any less dangerous.
Perhaps the machines would have killed them both then, but a wall collapsed suddenly and crushed one of the attackers underneath its weight.
The machine let out a sqwaurk that might have been surprise or pain as it dissapeared beneath the rubble and its two fellows turned in the direction of the threat only for one of them to have its head pulverized by an adamantine mace while the other had its leg kicked off, sending it crashing to the ground, only to have the sole of an olympian boot crash down on its face and put it out of commision.
The Prince of Power kicked the lifeless husk in contempt before turning to Aya and Modi.
"Did they hurt you?" he asked quickly, and with genuine concern. He was bathed in sweat and had countless small cuts and gashes on his hands, forearms, and legs, as well as a nasty wound on his left shoulder that might have been made by a sword. His boisterous spirit seemed unmarred by the battle and he exhuded confidence and self assuredness.
The boy, Modi, looked upon the Prince of Power with something slightly akin to jealously before replying in the positive, smiling, and taking his nursemaid's hand.
"And what of you fair Aya?" Hercules asked before Malekith could act. Looking the maiden's body over with his eyes and and touching her cheek with his large hand.
The hand was calloused yet smooth, rough, yet silky, and those eyes betrayed an interest and a hunger beyond the innocent question.
The womanizing dolt has eyes for this maiden's form even as we battle for our very survival. Malekith suddenly realized as he/she looked at Hercules
You are a fool, a drunkard, and no doubt as easily seduced as a pock marked adolescent, Olympian. If we survive this day, I must be sure to profit from thy nature.
Doing his/her best to blush as if overwhelmed by his attention/affection Malekith replied that he/she was well thanks in no small part to the Mighty and Courageous Hercules.
He must have been convincing enough for the Olympian smiles mischeivously and gives her a peck on the cheek before ordering the pair to the back of the room and vowing that no harm would befall them before he turned and re-entered the fray unknowing that he was leaving the Boy Prince with his deadly vanity and the Accursed one with his/her schemes.
******
Far beyond the fields of Bor, back at the Stronghold of Odin, the Gods continue their battle for survival unaware of the dealings of Malekith and Hercules, and oblivious to the consequences those dealings would have for them alll.
Within the stronghold's deepest chamber Balder the Brave and the Warriors Three battle valiantly to keep the invaders away from Doctor Henry Pym and Amora the enchantress as they race to find some means of defeating what Ultron has become.
The Aesir warriors' weapons flash like deadly bolts of lightning and they fell scores of foes but the battle goes poorly and it is not long before Fandral the Dashing finds himself having to lunge forward and parry a thrust meant for Hogun's heart. So occupied with his multiple foes is the Grim One that he does not notice and cannot return the favor when Fandral has his legs taken out from under him and a deadly blade is sent lancing towards his unprotected throat.
Fandral's grits his teeth and prepares himself for Hela's embrace when he feels a cooling, almost soothing gust of wind and sees the ethreal lines of magic at work. He immediately understands what has happened, understands that they have done it, that they have held out long enough, and releived, looks to his left to see Amora the Enchantress aglow with power, her hands at work on the incantation that will be the end of their foes while behind her, the mortal Pym stands bravely, his charts and calculations tightly clutched in one hand.
The machines must have recognized the threat for thery turned their attention to her and growled and clicked and massed towards her but it was already far too late. Amora whispered an ancient word of power and casually gestured in the direction of her foes.
The Ultron robots might have screamed then, but they never got the chance. The magical force, ancient power beyond their kin, washed over them in an instant, shutting down their processors, depriving their nanite bodies of their cohesion, their unity, and suddenly, incredibley, perhaps those more perceptive of such things would say, magically, their bodies dissolved into naught but wisps of vapor and droplets of water upon the stone floor.
"HA! Take that you vile invader!" shouted Volstagg the Valiant to the foe who had just recently had him pinned against a wall as it dissapeared into nothingness and left him grappling with the air.
"It worked!" Doctor Pym declared with obvious relief and took hold of Amora's arm. He had done all he could, believed he had shown Amora what she needed to see, but he didn't understand magic, had no way of knowing how or if the spell would succeed.
"Quickly get the spell to Thor!" he said to the Enchantress as she looked upon him with visible irritation and a hint of scorn.
"I already have mortal. Once again Asgard is victorious."
*****
Moments earlier, in the courtyard outside the Stronghold, Ultron the Infinite revelled in his impending victory over the archaic and offensive powers of Godhood and faith.
The Loki Ultron held Thor's head up by the hair and looked at him hatefully as the massive tendrils smashed the Aesir's defences and blacked out the sky.
The power up was nearly complete. Soon he would have his final, ultimate triumph.
Or so he would have if not for the sudden jagged wrenching pain in his head/mind/consciousness. Something was wrong, something he could not quantify or calcultate. Something had happened.
Too late he realized that his calculations were pointless, that magic could not be quantified. Too late the infinite consciousness looked at its all but defeated foe and saw the glow of power in his eyes.
"Thor, wait! I...." The Loki Ultron had time to say before Thor let out a terrfying roar and let loose the spell Amora had crafted with all the power and potency of the Odinforce itself.
The loosed power washed across the field of battle and beyond, reaching across the nine worlds, across the gulf of space, through dimensions and across time. And everywhere it went it encountered Ultron and nullified him. This was a Skyfather wiping his foe from existence and it was a sight both beautiful, and terrifying, to behold.
As the wave passed so too did the storms overhead as they heeded Thor's call, and all across the countless battlefields were Ultron had fought, Ultron was now gone, leaving behind only his victims and his former slaves.
The prime Ultron stood before Thor, trapped in Loki's form, frozen, transformed into a block of solid ice. Rising to his feet the Thunderer blew gently on the ice and as his breath touched it, the figure turned to snow and was blown away as if it never existed.
Thor then raised Mjolnir high and let a cry of victory that echoed across the land and was reissued by all who heard it. Ultron the Infinite was no more.
