Marvel: Death Knight

In a matter of moments, the Kree soldiers collapsed to the ground one after another, struck by an unseen force. There were no visible wounds on their bodies, yet their once-living forms were now hollow shells, their souls utterly extracted.

"Earthling!" Ronan the Accuser roared in a mix of shock and rage. He could not comprehend what was happening or where the weapon in the human's hands had come from.

He slammed the alarm on the control panel before him. Instantly, the shrill blare echoed throughout the ship. Without waiting for reinforcements, Ronan gripped his hammer and charged at Garus.

Clang!

Their weapons clashed with a deafening sound. Garus felt an overwhelming force surging through his hands, forcing him to stagger back several steps.

"Human, your strength is impressive," Ronan remarked, genuinely surprised. In his long career, he had rarely encountered anyone who could rival his sheer physical might.

"If brute force is all you have, you'd best surrender now," Garus retorted. His attacks were far more than mere displays of strength. Each strike carried the essence of Death, sapping his opponent's vitality and undermining their ability to fight.

"Hmph!" Ronan snorted. His body alternated between bouts of weakness and piercing cold. Slowed by these effects, he could barely react as Garus's icy blade repeatedly scored his flesh, leaving trails of deep, bleeding wounds. He felt as though even his soul was being pulled from his body.

Blood Strike. Plague Strike. Each blow drained Ronan's strength further.

"Earthling! I'll kill you!" Ronan bellowed, his notorious temper flaring.

By now, the control room's doors had been sealed tight under Garus's icy magic, reinforced with thick frost that no one could breach. The intense, close-quarters combat filled Garus with exhilaration.

Bang!

Garus disarmed Ronan, sending his hammer clattering to the floor. Pinning the Kree warlord against the warship's wall, he repeatedly slammed Ronan's head against the crystal-clear viewport behind him. The reinforced glass cracked with a web of fine lines.

"The Kree Empire will crush Earth!" Ronan spat, blood oozing—dark green—from the corners of his mouth. Even in defeat, his defiance burned brightly in his eyes.

"Enough!" With a furious roar, Ronan mustered all his strength, landing a powerful punch to Garus's abdomen and forcing him back.

Spotting his hammer on the floor, Garus picked it up and hurled it at Ronan with all his might.

Ronan dodged reflexively, but the hammer struck the weakened viewport behind him.

Crash!

The heavily cracked glass finally gave way, shattering into countless fragments. Icy air from the void outside rushed in, carrying with it an oppressive chill.

Under Garus's relentless assault, Ronan staggered backward, his body covered in slashes from the Death-infused blade. Blood soaked his once-imposing figure.

Frustration and regret clouded Ronan's mind. He made a desperate decision: if he couldn't win, he'd ensure no one else did either. With the Skrulls aboard the ship as well, he resolved to destroy the Dark Aster. Let them all perish together.

The cost of one warship was insignificant to the Kree Empire's vast resources.

Glaring at the gaping hole behind him, Ronan activated a switch on his control panel. A distinct alarm rang throughout the Dark Aster. The Kree soldiers rushing toward the control room halted, turning back to evacuate.

"Warning! Warning! The Dark Aster will self-destruct in five minutes." The Kree language echoed over the intercom, but Garus, equipped with a universal translator, understood every word.

"Earthling, and you Skrulls, goodbye," Ronan sneered, leaping through the shattered viewport.

Garus hadn't expected such ruthless decisiveness. The massive warship's impending explosion posed a dire threat, especially with Azeroth Tower directly below. A catastrophic crash would bring irreparable damage to his company's headquarters.

A small Kree craft swooped in, catching Ronan mid-air as he escaped the doomed ship.

Meanwhile, thick alloy plates descended, sealing the control room entirely.

"Mr. Garus, what do we do now?" one of the Skrulls asked, panic evident in their voice as they stared at the sealed exit.

"Nothing to worry about," Garus said calmly. "This is hardly enough to stop me."

A rune-marked portal opened behind him, connecting to the floating fortress of Naxxramas. In a flash, Garus and the Skrulls vanished, leaving the sealed control room behind.

Above New York, Kree ships filled the sky. From S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Nick Fury watched the unfolding chaos.

"Director, should we pursue them?" Coulson asked, sensing an opportunity.

Fury shook his head. "No point."

The Kree ships vastly outnumbered S.H.I.E.L.D.'s forces. Engaging them would be futile.

Then Fury's face darkened. "Damn it!" He realized the Dark Aster was descending—straight toward Manhattan.

In the sky, Garus summoned Sindragosa. With an ancient incantation, a massive Frostwyrm materialized beside the doomed warship.

"Little one, must I do this again?" Sindragosa growled, her voice tinged with irritation. In life, she had been the mate of Malygos, one of Azeroth's great Dragon Aspects. To be reduced to this was demeaning.

Yet the binding contract left her no choice.

Sindragosa gripped the Dark Aster in her colossal claws, struggling to slow its descent. The ship's size made it impossible to halt completely, but she redirected it, steering it away from Azeroth Tower.

As the people of New York gazed at the sky, panic spread. The sight of a Frostwyrm and the falling Kree warship sent crowds into chaos.

Meanwhile, in a seemingly abandoned New York building, a door creaked open. A group of gray-robed sorcerers stepped out.

"Take your positions," commanded the Ancient One. "Prepare to open a large-scale Mirror Dimension. We must contain that warship."

"Yes, Master," the sorcerers responded, bowing before scattering across the city.

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