Marvel: Silver Hand

Alexander leaned back on his new bed, staring at the ceiling of his run-down apartment. His mind wasn't on the crime-infested streets of Hell's Kitchen tonight. No, his thoughts were elsewhere.

Emma hadn't picked up his calls in two days.

He stared at his phone, waiting for it to vibrate.

Nothing.

Not a single message.

Celebrimbor, sensing his concern, spoke in his mind.

"Perhaps she is simply occupied."

Alexander sighed. "Yeah, maybe. But she's never gone this long without saying anything. If she doesn't pick up tomorrow, I'm heading to the academy."

Celebrimbor didn't need to argue. He knew Alexander had already made up his mind.

Pushing his worries about Emma aside, Alexander sat up, stretching. He summoned Eldhringr, the divine discus, and held it in his hands.

The weapon hummed, vibrating with overwhelming power. It glowed with its signature golden light, molten energy swirling within its core like a miniature sun.

And yet…

Alexander frowned.

Something about it felt off.

It wasn't that it was weak—far from it. But when he held Eldhringr, it didn't feel like his weapon. It was still Eldrborinn's. A relic of his ancestor. A weapon not forged for him, but inherited.

It wasn't enough.

He needed to make it his own.

"Celebrimbor."

"Yes?"

Alexander grinned. "What if we reforged Eldhringr?"

A long pause.

Celebrimbor sighed. "You want to reforge one of the most powerful weapons in existence… because you don't like the shape?"

Alexander laughed. "Not just the shape, the feel. It's not mine."

Celebrimbor was skeptical at first, but Alexander's enthusiasm was contagious. And then, when Alexander pointed out they'd be working with one of the strongest metal in the universe, Celebrimbor's curiosity was piqued.

"It would be… an honor to work on such a thing."

Alexander nodded. "Then let's do it."

Alexander opened a portal to Eldrborinn's realm. The moment he stepped through, he felt the heat wash over him, his divine fire reacting to the presence of the volcanic wasteland. 

The chest full of Uru metal, a gift from Eitri, sat near the edge of the massive volcanic crater, untouched by the destruction surrounding it. He dragged it away from the forge, placing it safely outside the blast radius.

Then, he turned back to the anvil.

Eldhringr hovered in the air, its golden glow illuminating the volcanic forge.

Alexander took a deep breath. "Alright. Let's do this."

He raised Turann, his wraith hammer, and swung it down—

BOOM!

Alexander was sent flying.

The moment his hammer struck Eldhringr, an explosive force erupted, slamming him into the rock wall.

What the hell?

He pulled himself up.

Celebrimbor's voice was sharp. "It resists."

Alexander gritted his teeth. "Then we'll push harder."

Celebrimbor hesitated. "If we want to break it down, we'll need more heat."

Alexander understood.

If they were going to reshape Eldhringr, they needed to call upon the full power of Eldrborinn's realm.

Alexander closed his eyes and reached out—

Then roared.

Flames erupted from his body, merging with the volcanic heat, the realm itself responding to his divine command. The very sky above turned black, the heat rising to a level never seen before.

The entire realm shook.

Eldhringr trembled on the anvil.

And then—

A deep, unnatural energy surged from the depths of the volcano.

Alexander's eyes widened.

From deep beneath the molten core, a dark presence emerged—

The amulet of Eldrborinn.

The artifact he had sealed away, containing Eldrborinn's final creation, forged in hatred, ambition, and darkness.

Alexander watched in horror as Eldhringr floated off the anvil, its golden glow turning dark, its energy now a black, hellish flame.

Celebrimbor's voice was filled with dread.

"We shouldn't have done this."

Alexander gritted his teeth. "No—this is good. We've exposed the truth. This weapon… It's not just powerful. It's corrupted."

They argued—until the black fire attacked.

Eldhringr, now consumed by dark energy, unleashed a torrent of black flames, each one carrying destructive power far beyond what it ever had before.

Alexander blocked the first blast, his Uru armor absorbing the impact.

But more came.

Boom. Boom. BOOM.

He was being pushed back.

His armor, forged in Nidavellir, began to crack under the pressure.

Celebrimbor was panicking. "It's stronger than before! Even when you wielded it!"

Alexander struggled to hold back the attacks.

Then—

CRACK.

His left arm shattered.

A scream tore from his throat.

Celebrimbor's voice cut through his pain.

"Stop protecting your arm."

Alexander growled. "I AM NOT LOSING MY ARM."

"You're already losing it. Accept it and focus all your power into one strike."

Alexander hesitated.

But he knew Celebrimbor was right.

With one last scream, he channeled every ounce of power into his right hand—

Divine fire. Wraith energy. Pure will.

His left arm burned away—

And he launched everything at Eldhringr.

BOOOOOOM!

The explosion ripped through the realm.

The volcano erupted, the entire world shaking from the clash.

Everything went black.

When Alexander awoke, he was lying in lava.

His left arm was gone.

But he didn't care.

He dragged himself up, scanning the ruins of the volcanic forge.

The anvil was gone, reduced to molten metal.

The chest of Uru metal was damaged, but the metal inside was safe.

Alexander sighed in relief.

Then he froze.

Where was Celebrimbor?

He frantically searched until he found him—Celebrimbor's wraith form, unconscious near the lava.

Alexander shook him awake.

Celebrimbor stirred. "You're alive."

Alexander exhaled. "So are you."

Celebrimbor looked at Alexander's missing arm, then at the destruction.

"We did it."

Or so they thought.

Because when they turned around—

Something stood at the edge of the ruins.

A towering, dark-armored figure, black flames flickering across its form.

Alexander's heart stopped.

Celebrimbor's voice shook.

"How… are you here?"

The figure took a step forward.

Its voice was like fire and shadows intertwined.

"You tried to destroy me."

"Now, I will break you."