Madness of the Serpent

After the interrogation, the spirit wanted to submit to the lure of sleep, partially from stress and partially from growing anxiety, but it resisted the temptation. It was concerned with how often its new body needed to rest, as if it was recovering from a traumatic experience.

This… made sense, considering all of the stresses put upon its body and mind since its creation.

Instead, it sat cross-legged in front of the surface meant for sleeping, resting its back against the hard frame. It had a thin but firm pad lining its surface, which had turned out to be very stiff and uncomfortable. It almost missed the sleeping mat back in Loki’s lair. At least the blanket it had been provided with was warm, if scratchy and rough.

The thoughts whirling around its mind where unpleasant and filled with uncertainty, especially after its interaction with Coulson of SHIELD. It had not been as successful as it could have hoped in fooling the human that it was one of their kind. He had hid his expressions well, but it had recognized the look of oddness as the same one it had received from the human serving edibles at the event in Germany.

It should have remained silent, its inexperience betraying its non-human nature. But what had it truly revealed? The spirit was ignorant as to Loki’s intentions for these humans; the spirit had no inkling as to what he wanted or needed from them.

It had not realized it had closed its eyes and rested its cheek against the sleeping surface until several minutes later, startled immediately into wakefulness by a familiar, purring voice in its ear.

“Sleeping, are we?”

Its eyes snapped open as its body jerked in response. It was staring at… a knee.

The spirit looked up and Loki grinned, sitting on the bunk with one hand resting behind his head in a relaxed pose as he leaned against the wall. His mischievous smile belayed any type of actual concern for their captivity, which apparently did not prevent him from moving freely.

“How?” it asked simply, studying his form closely.

“Quite easily, actually. Oh, do not fret. This is merely a projection,” the Jotun-Asgardian explained, apparently reading a change in the spirit’s face. “I do not plan to make my move just yet.

“It is humorous, though. The mortals fear me, stowing me away in an incredibly robust cage meant for an epic beast. But, the thing of it is, there is not so much as a single enchanted barrier. Not one spell of containment. You would almost conceive that the humans know nothing of sorcery and spellwork.”

Loki appeared to be maddeningly happy, his tone gleefully exuberant as he grinned down at it with all of his flashing teeth.

“Did you know we are currently trapped aboard a flying metal contraption thirty-thousand feet in the air with an assortment of volatile, erratic, and unstable super-powered beings capable of causing far more damage than I?”

It blinked once, unsure how to respond, both to his disturbed enthusiasm and his alarming statement.

“I realize it’s difficult to grasp. Even I was surprised they would create such a deliciously chaotic concoction, let alone place it within my reach.” Loki sighed longingly, almost achingly.

“It would be impolite not to make sport of them.”

When it did not respond to his dark humor, he looked down at it and smiled winningly.

“Come.”

Before it could respond, Loki reached down and placed his palm on its head, splayed fingers slightly pushing into its dark hair.

The spirit had no opportunity to react to this startling gesture before the world around them melted and morphed in an alarming fashion. The muted grey and white colors of its room shifted into stark, bright, clean edges of an entirely new area, electrical and complicated equipment covering the tables. It had been instantly transported to another part of the flying air base, its senses taking in its surroundings as if it were physically there.

Loki removed his fingers from where they rested on its hair, as it was now standing next to him. It wondered at his touch – an unnecessary gesture given that he had displaced its consciousness once before on the smaller transport. But he elected to give the illusion of physical contact. Was this a new intimidation tactic to remind the spirit that it was still within his grasp?

It did not know, and Loki did not offer an explanation. He simply observed the other occupants of the room, and the spirit followed his gaze.

There were three humans in the room – two it recognized and one it did not. The shield-warrior spoke to the metal man, who was now completely metal-less, while a third human garbed in purple watched them warily.

The Jotun-Asgardian had been correct that this colossal structure was airborne. It could see past the humans to the large window beyond as the sides of the ship curved forward into an inky black night sky.

Its attention was diverted from the celestial view as it stared down at the glowing object propped on the table. It dry-swallowed as its fingers slightly twitched, anxiety flooding its chest despite the knowledge it was not physically near the item which elicited fear from its body and mind.

The sceptre seemed to stare back with a singular, luminous eye, as if it was aware of the presence of the two unseen intruders.

The humans were arguing, though their voices were silent, and it soon realized why. Loki did not want his own voice overpowered as he spoke softly in its ear.

“The righteous shield-bearer, Captain America. A man who let his war-hungry leaders manipulate his body so as to become a more efficient killer. A man who was created for the humans’ great World War II, the war which allowed America to truly begin to spread its brands of “freedom” and “democracy” around the world.

“The Iron Man who claims to have had a change of heart in regards to building genocidal weapons – though he only came to this epiphany after nearly being obliterated at the hands of his enemies by his own creations. The tycoon believes inventing a few environmentally-friendly devices will absolve him of his previous sins, burying the mountain of skulls on which his throne is set.

“And last, but not least, the hulking beast himself, Dr. Bruce Banner. A man of enormous hubris who created his own inner demon – quite literally – in a failed attempt to replicate the formula that forged America’s original champion. Do not be fooled by his gentle demeanor – he has power within to become a raging monster which could tear this very airship in twain.

“And here they are now, bickering. Baring their teeth and raising their hackles. Suspicious and fraught with the needs of their own egos, they do not even trust those they are aiding…”

As Loki’s voice faded away, it could suddenly hear the snippets of conversation clearly.

“So why didn’t SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project? What are they doing in the energy business in the first place?” the older male in the purple cloth asked, his voice soft as he made tentative eye contact with the others in the room who were visible to him.

“I should probably look into that once my decryption program finishes breaking into all of SHIELD’s secure files,” the Iron Man responded, a small bag of edibles held in one hand while he extracted a translucent, flat rectangle from a pocket in his clothing.

“I’m sorry. Did you say-” the shield-warrior began to say, his tone tinged with disbelief.

“Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours, I’ll know every dirty secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide. Blueberry?” the human asked, his tone light as he offered the silvery bag towards the blue-clad warrior while he deposited the device back into his pocket.

“Yet you’re confused about why they didn’t want you around,” the warrior responded, ignoring the offering as he stared at the human across from him. The third human, the one Loki had identified as Dr. Bruce Banner, remained quiet, watching the pair with trepidation, often looking away as his hands fidgeted with an object containing two lenses in his hands.

“An intelligence organization that fears intelligence?” the Iron Man countered, his eyebrows knit together as he indicated himself with the small bag of edibles held in his hand. “Historically, not awesome.”

Loki’s voice returned, the humans once again muted as he said, “I did forget to mention that the humans were attempting to harness the Tesseract for their own selfish desires, didn’t I?”

The spirit looked at him as he watched the trio of humans, a slight sneer on his face. Loki did not look at the spirit, but he added:

“Oh yes. It was their foolish meddling that awakened the artifact and attracted the attention of my… allies. It was their desire for unbound power that allowed me to manipulate one of their scientists into activating the portal.”

Loki finally looked to the spirit, an amused smile on his lips, his pale eyes luminous with amusement.

“They practically handed me the tools of their undoing of their own volition.”

The scene around them gradually vanished, and was replaced by a much larger room, one filled with computer screens, metal railings, and uniformed humans. One entire wall was a large, glass window, similar to the one in the previous space, though it fully displayed the beauty and nearness of the star-filled sky.

One figure stood out amongst the humans – tall, fair-haired, with an expression that seemed oddly familiar. It was a look of vulnerability similar to that it had glimpsed on Loki’s face on rare occasion.

Two figures were with him, the Agent Coulson who had questioned the spirit earlier, along with the intimidating human with the eye cover. The latter human stood at the top of a short segment of steps, staring down at the muscular Asgardian.

“My dearly beloved brother, Thor. God of Thunder and other Manly Things. Come to convince his disgraced brother to abandon his misguided ambitions and return home to his grieving family.”

The bitterness and resentment was clear in Loki’s voice, even as he tried to disguise it in sarcasm – a type of expression the spirit was quickly becoming familiar with.

“You think you could make Loki tell us where the Tesseract is?” the bald human asked Loki’s brother. Just as in the previous room, none of the occupants could discern the spirit or Loki. Not even the Asgardian was aware of their concealed presence, and he answered the commanding human while continuing to stare out into the night sky.

“I do not know. Loki’s mind is far afield. It’s not just power he craves – it’s vengeance, upon me. There’s no pain would prise his need from him.” His expression belonged to one who had given up his last vestiges of hope.

“A lot of guys think that, until the pain starts,” the human leader responded, slowly descending the stairs to draw the attention of the troubled Asgardian.

Instead of recoiling in horror at the idea of harming his kin for information, Thor replied, “What are you asking me to do?”

“I’m asking, what are you prepared to do?”

“Hmmm. I suppose bringing me home in an act of redemption and forgiveness was not on his mind after all,” Loki remarked lightly, though his glassy eyes and unsteady voice betrayed the underlying emotions.

“Loki is a prisoner,” Thor responded. By the expression on Loki’s face, his objections had come far too late.

“Then why do I feel like he’s the only person on this boat that wants to be here?” the commanding figure responded, glaring at Thor with his one demanding eye.

“The Director of SHIELD, Nicholas Fury. You can see it is little wonder how he came to lead this… organization. You could search for a more ruthless, cunning mortal, but you would be loath to find one.”

The earlier frailty in his voice was almost entirely gone, but it took note of the way his eyes lingered on Thor until after the visions had faded and they had returned to its cell.

“Now that you have laid eyes upon the merry band of misfits, what say you? Are they ready to face my legion of ravenous, battle-hardened Chitauri?”

It still remained on the floor, but Loki was now pacing the ground in the middle of the room, his own expression hungry and eager.

“It… does not find their odds encouraging.”

Loki displayed a smile devoid of all warmth as he continued to pace like an agitated animal.

“These… Chitauri. They still wait for you to bring them through another portal after the disintegration of the first?” it guessed, trying to piece together Loki’s goals, especially in regards to these particular human warriors.

It had not realized it had misspoken until Loki froze in his tracks. He slowly turned to stare at the spirit, his eyes like two spheres of ice while his expression remained unnervingly blank.

“You speak almost as if you are intimate with the details of the portal’s… mishap.”

Its mind rushed to find a suitable lie, but… perhaps it did not have to. Loki did not have to know about its role in the collapse of the portal in order for it to tell the truth. Or enough of the truth for it to sound as if there was no omission.

“It was sometimes aware of events that transpired during its imprisonment in the orb.”

Loki continued to stare with a hard intensity, and it suddenly wished it were not sitting on the floor where he could tower above its vulnerable form.

“Such as the portal’s destabilization? Were you aware of that event?”

The spirit attempted to keep its voice steady as it answered truthfully but vaguely, “It witnessed the collapse.”

Loki stared down at it with half-closed eyes, his gaze judging the integrity of its words before asking:

“You were a phantasm of pure energy, once. Pray tell, how do you believe the portal came to implode as it did?” Loki’s tone indicated he was genuinely curious as to its thoughts, but his pale eyes held it in place in a way only he seemed capable of doing.

It was less worried about Loki’s intense gaze than about what was held behind them. Did he know? Did he suspect? He had paid little attention to the portal’s destruction while it had been occurring, and its lack of form during that time would have rendered the spirit unrecognizable to any being which relied heavily on physical senses.

But the Jotun-Asgardian did not just rely on physical senses, did he? He had already displayed a proficiency for manipulating energy, light, and mass. It was entirely possible that he could have sensed the spirit’s energy during the collapse and knew what it had done.

But if that was the truth… he would not be asking the spirit for its thoughts now.

Having this knowledge brought it little comfort as Loki waited for its answer, his eyes blazing in a cold, blue fire.

“It… does not know.”

It could have attempted to lie, but it was unsure how familiar Loki was with the intricacies of opening a tear in space, and it was unfamiliar with telling falsehoods.

Truthfully, it did not know how to explain the precise properties of traveling through the folds of the universe. When it had been without form and substance, slipping through the cracks and crevices of the physical and anti-physical realms had come as naturally to it as breathing came to it now.

The Jotun-Asgardian appeared disappointed rather than angry, and it tried not to visibly show its relief as his intense eyes moved on. Instead, it asked:

“What of the red-haired female? Is she not also a warrior?”

Loki let out a derisive snort, clearly dismissive of the idea as he resumed his pacing, his hands held loosely behind his back.

“Agent Romanoff? She has no extraordinary abilities of her own. She poses little threat to me or my objectives.”

At that moment he paused in his pacing, half-turned, and smiled.

“I will return.”

And in a shimmering of green light, he was gone.

It barely had time to process all it had witnessed before Loki returned several minutes later, looking decidedly hot-tempered and rattled. It would have shrunk back as he reached down to grab the front of its garment, pulling it to its feet, but it had nowhere to retreat in its brightly-lit cell.

The volatile nature of his ever-changing moods made its entire body become rigid as he pressed his face close, mere inches away.

“When the doors open, bring my sceptre to me. Do not delay, or you will suffer my displeasure. And trust my words when I say I am very displeased at the moment.”

It searched his eyes as every muscle in its form remained taut, the deranged light within his gaze trapping the breath in its throat. It did not breathe again until his form was consumed in the green light once more, the pressure from his projected grip vanishing.

Its breath was too shallow and its heart raced alarmingly fast. The spirit leaned against the wall while taking deep breaths until its body stopped reacting to the threatening words Loki had spoken. A realization came which caused its stomach to sink even further than his voice of malice had caused.

In order to follow Loki’s instructions, it would have to touch the loathsome apparatus.

______________________________________________________________________

“You want to know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You want to know how I stay calm?” Dr. Banner asked threateningly, his voice tight with growing anger.

Director Fury and Agent Romanoff subtly reached down for the pistols strapped against their hips as they watched the doctor’s movements closely.

“Dr. Banner… put down the sceptre,” Steve Rogers said in as calm a tone as possible.

Thor, Director Fury, Agent Romanoff, Tony Stark, and Steve Rogers all stared down at the sceptre in his hand, drawing Banner’s attention to the object in his hand. His expression went from hostility to confusion to befuddlement.

As he looked up at the group, their unnerved expressions watching carefully for any hint of green, he heard a beeping from the computer which meant the gamma radiation triangulation sequence was complete.

“Got it,” Fury commented, glancing back to the computer terminal.

“Sorry kids, you don’t get to see my party trick after all,” the doctor replied, setting the sceptre on the table as he walked briskly to his computer panel.

“You located the Tesseract?” Thor asked, a slender thread of hope in his voice.

“I could get there fastest,” Stark interjected quickly.

“The Tesseract belongs on Asgard. No human is a match for it,” the blond Asgardian proclaimed to the eccentric human.

“You’re not going alone,” Steve Rogers remarked, grabbing Stark by the arm as he attempted to leave the lab.

“You’re gonna stop me?” the inventor asked hotly, slapping away the unwanted physical contact.

“Put on the suit, let’s find out,” Rogers replied while Fury observed their absurd behavior with exasperation.

“I’m not afraid to hit an old man,” Stark said, overcoming his aversion to close proximity as he stood in Rogers’ face, challenging him.

“Put on the suit,” Rogers reiterated, meeting the challenge as they stood nearly chest to chest.

Meanwhile, the doctor ignored the confrontation between the men as he stared at Stark’s computer screen, removing his glasses as he stared with incredulity at what the triangulation results were telling him.

“Oh, my God,” Dr. Banner said, his voice combining dread and disbelief as he looked up at them.

“What is it?” Fury asked, his eye blazing at the doctor.

“There are… two gamma signatures matching the Tesseract. One of them is close. It’s… onboard. And it’s not the sceptre – I already excluded its signature from our search parameters.”

“Wait, wait. I thought you could only narrow the field within half a mile.” Stark pointed out, stepping away from Rogers as he eyed the former soldier warily.

“Typically, yes. But the spectrometers onboard are the most sophisticated in existence. Plus it’s… practically on top of us.” Dr. Banner looked closer at the screen, brushing his fingers across the surface as he overlaid the schematics of the Helicarrier with the triangulation results and asked:

“What’s in detention cell B-5?”

Agent Romanoff’s eyes widened in realization as she jerked her head towards Director Fury.

“The girl.”

At that moment, an explosion ripped violently through the Helicarrier, sending the heroes flying in a concussive blast of flaming wreckage and flying debris.

Notes