Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter 25 – Oblivion
Space was barren. It was cold and empty and unforgiving to any living being unfortunate enough to be caught in its clutches.
Ophelia drifted in the far reaches of the universe; sentenced to a miserable existence.
The first few minutes after her fall was spent in mind-numbing terror. She struggled fruitlessly to breathe as her hands clutched her throat with desperation. Liquid fire trickled through her lungs as her body begged for respite.
But to no avail, her frantic movements stilled as she began losing consciousness from a lack of oxygen. Her limp body hung suspended in the vacuum as her lips gained a blue tinge. Ice crept across her skin as the cold froze her blood and stilled her heart to a weak murmur. Ophelia was all but dead to the world at this point.
Until, of course, she wasn't.
A deep dark orange light engulfed the weightless Delacour. Starting from her chest and spreading through her body, it melted the ice that claimed her skin and brought her back from the brink of death. Her heartbeat strong within her chest as the cold was replaced by the rippling heat waves of a miniature star.
All would have been well except for one problem.
Ophelia still couldn't breathe.
Her body was kept alive by the bottomless well of energy that existed within her, keeping her body warm and forcefully pumping blood through her veins. But she physically wasn't trained enough in her abilities to create a high enough temperature and pressure to produce oxygen for herself.
And so, Ophelia drifted through deep space for hours. Trapped in a never-ending cycle of suffocation and unconsciousness. Wishing for the first time that her powers would just let her die.
Back on Earth, Thor and Jane battled the dark elves on the streets of Greenwich, London. Thor fought with a bitter determination to see Malekith defeated, carrying the memory of Loki's last sacrifice and Ophelia's loyalty with him as he battered the ancient being with his hammer.
Ophelia couldn't be dead. Damn what his father said, somewhere in the back of his mind the god of thunder knew the brawler was still alive. And he clung to that hope with every fibre of his being. He didn't know where she was, but when he was done with Malekith. When the threat was dealt with, Thor would do everything in his power to bring her back.
Today had brought enough grief and pain onto Thor. He'd already lost his brother and his mother in the span of a few hours. His heart wrestled with the knowledge that he will never see them again. No more tricks and games from Loki, no more Frigga trying to stop their fights. No more arguments or heartwarming talks or the rare 'I love you' once a century. A gaping hole existed in him, his family irreversibly damaged and forever broken from its losses.