DC Heroes in Marvel

Click, click, click!

The icy air that Superman exhaled roared like a hurricane, sweeping across the sky over Asgard.

Whoosh!

The temperature plummeted, and under the influence of the freezing storm, a dense white mist engulfed the heavens.

The warships patrolling the skies were instantly trapped in the frost. Their engines sputtered and failed, leaving them powerless. Like falling meteorites, they plummeted from the sky, crashing to the ground with deafening explosions.

Boom! Boom!

In the blink of an eye, the number of warships surrounding Superman dwindled at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Everyone was stunned.

Even Thor, the prince of Asgard, stood frozen in the sky, gripping Mjolnir tightly. His face was filled with disbelief as he stared at the man before him. The sheer power Superman had just displayed was beyond comprehension.

This man… he was far stronger than Thor had imagined. Too strong.

On the ground, a crowd of Asgardian civilians watched the battle with wide-eyed astonishment, their expressions even more exaggerated than Thor's.

"Who is he?"

"Is he our reinforcement? Why have we never heard of him?"

"Could he be Asgard's hidden trump card?"

"Look at those muscles! I knew this guy was special!"

Any doubts they had about Superman vanished in an instant.

Yet, amid the shocked gasps and murmurs, one figure remained completely calm—unshaken from the very beginning.

From within the palace, the King of Asgard, Odin, observed the scene with a knowing gaze, as if everything had unfolded just as he had foreseen.

"Things have changed," he murmured.

His eyes shifted toward the palace interior, where his wife, Queen Frigga, stood behind a divine protective barrier, shielded in all directions. A faint smile touched her lips as she watched the battle unfold.

Meanwhile…

Under the stunned gazes of Asgard's people, the enemy fleet regrouped.

Thor was all but forgotten.

Every warship now had a single target—Superman.

Yet, even while carrying someone in his arms, Superman moved effortlessly through the air, weaving between the energy blasts raining down on him. With each step, he seemed to walk on air, dodging every attack with ease.

His eyes flared red—heat vision erupted, cutting through the enemy ships. Then, with a single breath, a super breathchilled the remaining warships, freezing them mid-air before they tumbled and shattered upon impact.

One after another, the ships fell.

Superman—alone—was taking on the entire fleet of Dark Elves.

And winning.

Boom! Rumble!

No longer could the Dark Elf warships threaten Asgard. Superman's heat vision and super breath had turned the tide of battle. Instead, it was the enemy fleet that was being decimated—falling into disarray, crashing one by one.

Panic spread through the Dark Elf communication channels.

"Report! The enemy is too strong—we need reinforcements!"

"We can't match his abilities. We don't know who he is, but he's beyond powerful. The commander must classify him as the highest-level threat!"

At that moment, deep within the command center of a massive warship, a vessel rivaling the size of Asgard's palace, Malekith, the leader of the Dark Elves, received the urgent transmission.

His expression darkened.

"The highest threat?"

In truth, even if the Dark Elf soldiers hadn't already assessed Superman's overwhelming strength, their leader, Malekith, had seen everything from the control center of his warship. Observing the battle unfold, he was already preparing to change strategy—engaging Superman head-on would be suicidal.

Thousands of years ago, the Dark Elves had waged war against Asgard. Though they had been defeated, forced into exile, and driven far from their home in the Dark World, they had not been completely extinguished. A few embers of their former power had survived.

Now, after millennia of waiting, the scattered remnants of the Dark Elves had rekindled their strength. Their fire had been restored.

Malekith had rebuilt his forces, and with the resurgence of their power, the Dark Elves had returned to the Nine Realms, confident once more that they could challenge Asgard.

But confidence could only go so far. Watching his fleet fall apart at an alarming rate, even Malekith felt a stab of frustration.

His gaze shifted toward Superman's arms—toward the woman he carried. Though she appeared utterly powerless, something in her presence caught his attention. His eyes burned with an intense, almost predatory gleam, as if he had just uncovered a crucial piece of the puzzle.

Without hesitation, he issued his command.

"Leave him to me."

The Dark Elf fleet responded at once.

"Understood!"

"Roger that!"

Immediately, the warships changed course, redirecting their fire toward Thor and the palace below Superman.

Thor's eyes narrowed as he noticed the shift in the battle. His grip tightened around Mjolnir.

"Hmph, here we go again."

Though still shaken by Superman's sheer power, Thor's irritation flared. The Dark Elves were choosing the easier target—him.

A seasoned warrior, Thor immediately saw through their strategy. Superman's strength had rattled them, forcing them to leave him to a higher-ranked opponent among their ranks. Meanwhile, they had demoted Thor, the God of Thunder himself, to a secondary threat—one they believed they could handle first before turning their attention back to Superman.

"So, this is what it's come to?" Thor muttered with a dry chuckle. "Never thought the mighty God of Thunder would be seen as the weaker opponent."

Despite his words, his pride stung.

But rather than dwell on it, he raised Mjolnir high into the storm-filled sky.

CRACK!

A blinding bolt of lightning, thick as an ancient tree trunk, tore through the heavens and struck his hammer.

BOOM!

Thunder roared across the battlefield, shaking the very air.

Zzzzzzzzt!

Lightning arced and crackled in every direction as Thor unleashed his fury upon the approaching warships.

The battle raged on.

Asgardian Royal Palace.

Odin remained still. His grip on his scepter was unwavering, his divine power continuously flowing outward, reinforcing the protective barrier around the palace.

Yet, for a fleeting moment, he felt a strange sense of detachment. A brief lapse in concentration.

Quickly recovering, his gaze drifted past the battlefield, past Superman, and settled upon a massive warship hovering in the sky—a warship rivaling the size of Asgard's palace itself.

And then, from within its shadowed depths, he emerged.

The ship's colossal entrance unfolded like the gates of a temple. Rows of heavily armored Dark Elves lined either side, bowing their heads in solemn reverence.

From the darkness, a figure stepped forward.

Gray-skinned. Clad in dark golden armor.

His presence alone sent a ripple through the battlefield.

Malekith had arrived.

This scene captured the attention of countless onlookers.

Just like Odin, everyone's gaze shifted away from Thor, who was still locked in battle, and instead fell upon the imposing figure that had emerged from the massive Dark Elf warship.

"Malekith..."

Odin narrowed his eyes, taking a moment to confirm the figure's identity.

Thousands of years ago, his father, Bor, had led Asgard in a brutal war against the Dark Elves. At that time, Malekith had been their leader.

And now, even after all these centuries, he still was.

"Who is that?"

Though Odin recognized Malekith, the same could not be said for the rest of Asgard. Yet, watching the way this figure stepped forward—the first to emerge from the colossal warship—there was no doubt in anyone's mind. He was no ordinary warrior.

Anton, the Superman of this world, also turned his attention to the Dark Elf leader.

He didn't personally recognize Malekith, but the oppressive energy radiating from him left little room for doubt.

Malekith.

The ruler of the Dark Elves.

The equivalent of Asgard's king.

Which meant—without question—he was the strongest among them.

"You finally decided to come out."

Anton still held Jane Foster securely in his arms, his expression calm. A faint smirk flickered in his eyes.

"If you had waited any longer, I would've had to go inside and find you myself."

Inside the ship?

Before Malekith could react, Jane Foster's body tensed.

Moments ago, she had watched Superman effortlessly take down wave after wave of enemy warships. But she knew better than anyone just how dangerous the battle had been.

If even a single blast had slipped past him...

Superman might have survived.

But she would have been vaporized on the spot.

And now, without hesitation, he was talking about storming the enemy's headquarters?

Jane instinctively buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. A nervous tremble ran through her body—because right now, the only thing giving her any sense of safety was the man holding her.

Meanwhile, Malekith let out a dark, humorless chuckle.

"You? Enter my ship to find me?"

His eyes settled on Anton—the man floating before him, clad in a skintight suit, a flowing red cape billowing behind him.

Malekith's grin twisted into something cold and sharp.

"Boy, you are arrogant."

He could feel it. The power rolling off this so-called Superman.

And yet—if he had ever let mere perception deter him, he would have died long ago, lost in one of the many wars he had fought. He wouldn't have survived. He wouldn't have become king.

"If I were you," Malekith said, his voice lowering to a dangerous edge, "I would surrender what does not belong to you."

Jane Foster stiffened.

She had heard every word.

And yet—she had no idea what he meant.

"Obediently hand over things that don't belong to you?"

Jane Foster's mind reeled.

What does he mean?

Just as confusion clouded her thoughts, she heard Superman speak again.

"You want her? Then come and take her."

Her?

Jane's breath hitched.

There was only one "her" in this conversation.

Her eyes widened in sudden realization.

They're after me.

Or rather—they're after the Aether inside me.

The truth hit her like a crashing wave. The entire invasion—the war—the destruction—it was all because of her.

Jane Foster felt her chest tighten as a suffocating weight of guilt settled over her.

Malekith's response seemed almost predictable.

Without warning, his form flickered—his entire body twisting into a shadowy, distorted blur.

And then—

BOOM!

A powerful shockwave exploded from the space behind him, sending violent ripples through the air that tore across Asgard.

Dark energy surged, gathering around Malekith's body like a storm.

Light blazed from his core, illuminating the sky as he launched forward like lightning, his trajectory locked onto the unmoving figure of Superman.

"Damn!"

All around, the faces of Asgardians twisted in shock.

They had just witnessed Superman's overwhelming strength, but now—Malekith's sheer power seemed to be on the same level.

No—his energy might even be stronger.

And that could mean only one thing.

Superman could lose.

The murmurs began.

"Why isn't he dodging?"

"Is he unable to? That can't be right…"

"Ever since he arrived, he hasn't moved much. Maybe agility is his weakness."

"These damn outsiders… if it weren't for their sneak attack, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Either way, our warriors are ready. Even if he loses, Asgard will fight on."

Despite the uncertainty in many voices, a select few remained unshaken.

Thor, still mid-battle, barely spared a glance at the situation.

Heimdall, standing watch, remained calm and observant.

And Odin, still channeling his divine power to shield the palace, simply let a small, knowing smile tug at his lips.

BOOM!

The sky erupted with blinding light as Malekith's energy struck Superman dead-on.

A direct hit.

Gasps filled the air as the impact reverberated across Asgard.

"He… he's gone?"

A stunned silence fell over the battlefield.

Even Thor, despite knowing Superman's power firsthand, stared in disbelief.

"No… that's impossible," he muttered.

Superman had casually overpowered him with a handshake. A blow like this shouldn't be enough to kill him—not instantly.

It didn't make sense.

Of all the warriors present, Heimdall was the first to see it.

His golden eyes narrowed.

"…So fast."

The nearby Asgardian soldiers turned to him, confused.

"What?"

And then—they all understood.

WHOOSH!

Above them, where Superman had been "struck down," his body dissipated into the wind.

An afterimage.

And the real Superman?

Still holding Jane Foster securely, he had already moved.

He now stood behind Malekith.

Malekith, still focused on the disappearing afterimage, hadn't realized it yet.

Not until the silence felt wrong.

Not until an unsettling presence loomed behind him.

His eyes widened in alarm.

He whirled around—

"You—"

But Superman cut him off.

"If your attack is over…"

His piercing gaze locked onto Malekith.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Then it's my turn. Are you ready?"

The words sent a chill down Malekith's spine.

For the first time in thousands of years, the Dark Elf king felt a flicker of something he had long forgotten.

Fear.

…

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