Y/N burst through the heavy, carved doors, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The urgency that had driven her here still thrummed through her veins, but now that she was in the presence of Thor and the Warriors Three, she felt a strange mix of relief and anxiety. The room was filled with the scent of polished wood and the faint, metallic tang of Asgardian steel—a scent that always signaled impending conflict.

Thor looked up from the large table where he stood, his brow furrowed in concentration over a map that seemed to span the entire realm. Around him, Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun were deep in discussion, their expressions grim and focused, as if they were on the verge of uncovering a crucial piece of strategy. The moment Y/N entered, the conversation halted, and Thor's gaze met hers with a mixture of surprise and concern. The flickering light from the nearby torches cast deep shadows across his face, making him appear more intense, more godlike.

"Y/N, what's happened? You look as if you've seen a ghost," Thor asked, stepping forward, his voice low but commanding. There was a hint of something more in his tone—an unspoken fear that whatever news she brought would unravel the tenuous peace they had managed to maintain.

Y/N struggled to find the right words. The visions of the ships were still fresh in her mind, their dark forms hidden under layers of shimmering light that danced like specters on the horizon. "It's not a ghost, Thor. It's... ships. I saw them outside—cloaked, nearly invisible. They're coming for Asgard."

The room tensed at her words. Fandral exchanged a concerned glance with Hogun, while Volstagg's usually jovial expression hardened into something that mirrored the steel he wielded in battle.

Thor's face grew grim, the weight of his responsibility settling more heavily on his broad shoulders. "Are you certain of this?" he asked, his tone more serious than she had ever heard it. His blue eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of doubt, but all he found was the same determination that had driven her here.

Y/N nodded, her voice firm. "Yes. I don't know how I could see them, but I did. They're using some kind of cloaking technology. They're almost impossible to spot, but they're out there, heading toward the city." As she spoke, she felt a strange connection to the realm itself, as if Asgard had whispered these truths to her, guiding her eyes to what others could not see.

Thor turned to the Warriors Three, his demeanor shifting into that of a leader ready to take action. "We need to prepare for an attack. If these ships are cloaked, Heimdall may not have seen them yet."

Hogun, ever the pragmatist, spoke up. "If the ships are cloaked, it's likely they're trying to get past our defenses unnoticed. They'll aim to strike hard and fast before we can respond."

Fandral nodded in agreement, his usual lightheartedness replaced by a rare seriousness. "We should gather the guards, make sure the defenses are ready. And we need to inform Heimdall—if he can't see them, he might be able to sense them."

Thor turned back to Y/N, his expression softening just slightly, a glimmer of something like pride in his eyes. "You've done well to bring this to our attention. Stay here in the palace where it's safe."

But Y/N shook her head, determination flaring in her chest. "No. I can help. Whatever's happening to me, these new senses—I think I can use them. Let me do something." Her voice trembled slightly, but beneath the fear was a resolve that surprised even her. She wasn't just a bystander anymore; she had a role to play in this, and she wasn't going to stand aside while Asgard was in danger.

Thor's eyes softened with understanding. "Very well," he said, reaching for a piece of armor from a nearby rack and handing it to her. "But if you're to join us, you'll need protection. Take this; it's enchanted to withstand dark magic." He studied her for a moment, clearly weighing the risks. The tension in the room was palpable, as if the air itself was thick with anticipation. "Stay close to me. If something goes wrong, you head back to the palace immediately. Understood?"

Y/N nodded, the weight of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders. There was no turning back now. The battle was coming, and she was right in the middle of it. A part of her, buried deep, thrilled at the prospect of what was to come—the clash of steel, the raw power of the gods unleashed—but she quickly pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

As they moved swiftly through the corridors of the palace, the sounds of Asgardian life filled the air—footsteps echoing against marble floors, the distant hum of conversation, and the ever-present rush of the waterfalls outside. But to Y/N, it all felt muted, like the calm before a storm.

They reached the main hall, where the guards were already assembling, weapons at the ready. Thor issued commands with practiced authority, his voice carrying over the growing tension. The Warriors Three took their positions, ready to defend the realm.

Y/N stood at Thor's side, her heart pounding as she tried to focus her heightened senses, scanning the skies for any sign of the cloaked ships. But before she could spot them again, a sudden, eerie silence fell over the hall.

Then, a low, rumbling hum began to vibrate through the walls, so faint that at first, Y/N thought she might be imagining it. But as the hum grew louder, it became clear that this was no illusion. The air itself seemed to shiver with anticipation.

"What is that?" Fandral asked, his voice tight with unease.

Thor's eyes narrowed as he turned toward the entrance. "The ships," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "They're here."

WHUMPF!

Suddenly, a deafening roar tore through the air, like thunder cracking the sky wide open, followed by the low, ominous rumble of dark energy.

A shockwave of dark energy surged through the entrance, sending guards flying and shattering the peace of Asgard in an instant. The cloaked ships had arrived, their concealment gone, revealing their full, menacing forms as they hovered above the city.

Chaos erupted as the warriors rushed to defend their home, but Y/N stood frozen for a heartbeat, her mind reeling. She could see them clearly now—the ships, the dark elves descending from their vessels, their weapons drawn, their eyes cold and calculating.

And then, in the midst of the chaos, she saw something—or rather, someone—emerging from the shadows of the lead ship. Tall, cloaked in darkness, and exuding a malevolent aura that made her blood run cold. The temperature seemed to drop, and the light around him dimmed as if the darkness itself bowed to his presence. He stepped forward, and though she couldn't see his face, Y/N knew instinctively that this was no ordinary enemy.

A voice, deep and resonant, echoed through the hall, cutting through the noise like a blade. The figure's gaze locked onto Y/N, his eyes burning with a dark, knowing intensity. "The key to Asgard's downfall lies within you," he intoned, his tone filled with chilling certainty.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as the weight of his words pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating. She instinctively looked at Thor, panic and confusion flooding her mind. The battle had just begun, but something told her that this was only the beginning—that the true fight was far more personal, far more dangerous than she had imagined.

The figure raised his hand, dark energy gathering in his palm, the air around him crackling with malevolent power. Y/N felt a surge of energy within her, something ancient and fierce, responding to the threat. The power pulsed through her veins, wild and uncontrollable, as if it had been awakened by his words.

"You cannot escape your destiny, child," the figure continued, his voice a venomous whisper that only she could hear:

"You are the harbinger of Asgard's end."