Outer Orbit of the Chitauri Prime, Deep Space.
After a long journey through the cosmos, Lothar finally laid eyes on the Chitauri homeworld, a planet tightly encircled by Thanos' forces. The First Legion, having been informed in advance by the Mad Titan himself, opened the docking bay of its flagship. Clad in gleaming silver armor, Lothar stepped out as soon as the connection was secured.
"Prince Lothar."
As one of Thanos' most trusted adopted sons, Lothar had long since built a fearsome reputation. The soldiers of the First Legion dared not obstruct his path, allowing him to proceed directly to the flagship's command center unchallenged.
A lone figure stood beside the control console. Despite the passage of time, he remained unchanged—his tattered cloak draped over his broad shoulders, his expression an eternal mask of icy indifference. Even with his hands clasped behind his back, his presence alone set him apart from the other Black Order generals.
The leader of the Black Order and the strongest among Thanos' chosen warriors—Corvus Glaive.
"What of the Centaurians, Lothar?"
"Gone."
Corvus paused, fingers hovering over the glowing interface before him. After a brief moment, he turned to face Lothar, scrutinizing the younger warrior's expression for any signs of deception. Finding none, he simply shifted his focus back to his work.
"And Proxima Midnight?"
Lothar scanned the command center. Corvus Glaive was the only one present. Based on what his adoptive father had previously mentioned, Proxima Midnight should have been here as well. Yet, she was nowhere in sight.
"Were you looking for me, Lothar?"
Before he could answer, the doors to the command center slid open. The most human-like of the Black Order entered, twirling her spear with practiced ease. Behind her stood a Chitauri warrior.
"I was, but it seems I won't be needing your help after all." Lothar's gaze settled on the Chitauri behind Proxima Midnight. The grotesque fusion of machine and flesh, the unnerving stillness of his expression, and the high-ranking brown battle armor—reserved only for Chitauri elites—all confirmed his true identity: a traitor from within.
"Unfortunately, you will still require my assistance," Proxima Midnight quipped. She was well-accustomed to Lothar's curt demeanor and wasn't bothered by it. With a smirk, she stepped aside and shoved the Chitauri forward.
Lothar had no intention of humoring the conversation. His crimson tail swayed behind him as his cold, piercing gaze locked onto the Chitauri warrior. Despite himself, The Other felt a chill creep down his spine. Lothar's reputation as a harbinger of death extended far beyond Thanos' inner circle. Being scrutinized by such a relentless executioner—even knowing he was supposedly safe—unsettled him deeply.
Surely, he was loyal to Thanos.
Surely, nothing would go wrong… right?
Though riddled with uncertainty, The Other swallowed his fear and met the intense stares of the three formidable figures before him. Summoning his resolve, he delivered the plan he had arranged with Thanos.
"Prince Lothar, you will accompany me to the Chitauri homeworld. According to Lord Thanos' design, I will escort you directly to the current Chitauri King's quarters."
It was a mission Lothar was all too familiar with—a decapitation strike. However, this time, the objective was slightly different. If Lothar could swiftly eliminate the Chitauri King, The Other would seize the opportunity to assume command and wrest control over the Chitauri forces.
"So, what do you say, Lothar? Need a hand?" Proxima Midnight smirked, idly fiddling with a small device in her palm.
"Just mind your own business." Unmoved by her teasing, Lothar's tail snapped forward, coiling tightly around The Other before he could react. Without another word, he strode toward the docking bay.
"He really is getting worse at conversation," Proxima Midnight mused, watching as Lothar and The Other disappeared down the corridor. The smirk faded from her lips as she turned to Corvus Glaive, who remained focused on his interface.
"What, did you expect him to chat with you? Have you forgotten what you did to him during his trials at age seven?" Corvus scoffed, issuing the command for a full-scale assault. It was all part of the plan—while Lothar infiltrated the Chitauri capital, the First Legion, led by Corvus and Proxima Midnight, would apply external pressure, ensuring his mission proceeded unhindered.
"You nearly skewered him with a spear yourself."
"And you think that makes us close?"
"Fair point." Proxima Midnight had no rebuttal. They had never been certain whether Thanos had intentionally molded Lothar into an unfeeling warrior or if it was simply in his nature. Regardless, after all these years, the only one who had ever elicited any real emotion from Lothar was Thanos himself. To everyone else, he remained an enigma wrapped in an impenetrable aura of indifference.
And yet, strangely enough, Lothar was surprisingly popular among Thanos' legions.
"At this rate, he'll be commanding his own army soon," Proxima remarked. She had been through the same process herself—earning renown before ultimately being granted control over one of Thanos' many military divisions. Lothar was clearly walking the same path.
"Why do you think Lord Thanos is having us invade the Chitauri homeworld now?" Corvus responded, his voice devoid of doubt. "If he didn't intend for Lothar to take command, the Chitauri King would've been dealt with long ago."
From Corvus' perspective, the entire operation was merely a stepping stone laid out by Thanos for Lothar's ascension. The Mad Titan had invested more in Lothar than in any of his other adopted children.
"The rest is up to him."
—
Chitauri Homeworld.
Cold. That was Lothar's first impression upon stepping onto the planet's surface. The oppressive atmosphere, the unforgiving weather, the treacherous terrain—it all gave the impression of a lifeless wasteland.
The uneven ground was still slick with fresh rain, forming shallow puddles that rippled beneath his silver-plated boots.
"Prince Lothar, the King's chambers lie at the end of this path. Please proceed with caution." The Other, leading the way, cast a glance back at Lothar. Despite the need for stealth, the warrior behind him strode forward without the slightest effort to conceal himself. Hesitating for a moment, The Other finally spoke up.
"The King has surely bolstered security, knowing that he stands against Thanos. Our best option is to slip past the—"
His words abruptly cut off.
The lifeless bodies of ten Chitauri guards tumbled down the slope. High above, standing atop the ridge, Lothar gazed toward the distant palace. Under his boot lay the corpse of an eleventh guard. A sharp, icy grin tugged at his lips.
His father had always told him—
If no one lives to raise the alarm, then the infiltration was flawless.
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