CHAPTER ONE

IN THE FAR reaches of space, light-years from Earth and the Milky Way galaxy, a dark planet rotated in silence, illuminated only by the sparkling stars that surrounded it. This was the planet Svartalfheim: once the home to a race of ancient Dark Elves, it was now a burned out, darkened husk of a world, barely even inhabitable. But that would soon change.…

As if by magic, or perhaps science, the stars around this desolate world began to warp and ripple as a large, ominous form emerged from the never-ending blackness of space. The stars gave light to this flying monstrosity and revealed its true form: a massive spacecraft, seemingly lifeless and adrift. But the closer it got to Svartalfheim, the more the ship began to come to life.

Ominous, black energy began to glow from the center of the ship, causing it to seem even more frightening and more intimidating than it already was. Inside this ship, which seemed more like a twisted haunted house in space than a high-tech spacecraft, a projection of a star map flickered to life. Inside a dark chamber, a countdown clock ticked toward zero.

Within the chamber, high above the floor, a large, dark figure hung from the ceiling. His arms wide, the elf was held suspended by tubes that were attached to his high-tech environment suit. The countdown ticked and ticked, closer and closer. And then finally it struck. Zero hour…

The Dark Elf’s eyes opened with a start, their black centers a sign of keen determination, infinite sadness, and undiscovered cruelty. This was Malekith, leader of the Dark Elves of Svartalfheim.

Malekith descended to the floor, staggered, then slowly began to detach the support tubes. A strange ooze now flowed from the conduits onto the ground, spreading in every direction. His breathing shallow, the Dark Elf felt the air enter his lungs. Then, upon seeing his battle mask, he picked it up and regarded himself in its pearl-like reflection. Malekith was a horrifying vision: pale, with hairless skin and pointed ears. And his battle mask, with its featureless appearance, only made him more terrifying to behold.

Still holding on to the mask, Malekith slowly made his way to the ship’s massive amphitheater. The Dark Elf peered out at the thousands of elves who were held there in suspended animation. They looked like six-foot, wingless, armored bats, all hanging perfectly still, just waiting for the call back to life, back to battle. But one other elf had already awoken: a large, muscled elf with a mask similar to Malekith’s stood behind his leader. This was Algrim, Malekith’s second in command.

“How many of us remain?” Malekith asked.

“Enough,” replied Algrim, his head bowed slightly toward his master.

“Send out the scouts,” Malekith commanded. “Let us see what has become of this poisoned universe.”

Outside the ship, which was now crackling with more and more dark energy, small scout ships rocketed off in every direction. The Dark Elves had returned.