Madness of the Serpent

“You’ve gone mad! Completely mad!” Dr. Selvig shouted with a tone more incredulous than it was accusatory. “You can’t hold the Tesseract with your bare… er, hands!” he exclaimed, glancing quickly at its clawed fingers as if it did not understand clearly enough what he had intended to say. “The energy flowing through the Cube – no one can survive that!”

“You could have mentioned that before she went inside,” the agent remarked in apparent irritation, glaring at the male before she approached a metallic case propped open on the graveled rooftop.

“I didn’t think she would make it past the barrier! Plus, it feels like someone took a jackhammer to my brain.” Romanoff’s expression softened the slightest, though she still appeared somewhat annoyed as she lifted a silver tool from the case. The object was comprised of two thin, metal pieces that joined in the middle, a handheld instrument meant for some unidentifiable task.

The spirit turned away from them and slowly knelt in front of the artifact, placing it at eye-level, glowing like a cubed version of the orb within the sceptre. It dreaded what would happen when it attempted to grab the shimmering object, and the numerous possibilities for disaster flashed through its mind.

Would it be able to overload the portal now that it had a physical form? Would it be able to contain the explosion if one should occur? Would its fleshy body be able to handle the raw power of the artifact? It had always been shielded from the naked energy of the mind-jewel by the casing of the orb, but this object felt much more exposed and unbridled as evident by the sparks jumping between it and the machine.

“We can close it. Can anybody copy? We can shut the portal down,” spoke Romanoff from behind, presumably in contact with her allies.

Its hands, one pale and delicate, the other dark and twisted, approached the artifact, when Romanoff shouted, “Wait!”

The spirit paused, almost unable to turn away as the lure of the artifact sent thrills of temptation through its nerves. But it managed to retract its arms as it looked over its shoulder to the red-haired agent.

“Stark… he’s carrying a nuclear bomb. It’s set to go off in less than a minute. And if you grab the Tesseract like that, it will kill you,” Romanoff explained urgently, holding the tool she had acquired towards the edge of the invisible barrier. The protective sphere shimmered into the visible spectrum as the tips of the metal instrument sparked against its outer coating.

“My God,” Dr. Selvig remarked breathlessly, slowly sitting on the graveled rooftop with an expression of pure shock on his face. “A bomb?”

“The World Council must have ordered a nuclear strike,” the female agent explained, her eyes still on the spirit as she waited for it to take the tool from her hands.

“But there are millions of people here!” the doctor exclaimed. The spirit’s thoughts darkened as its previous mistrust of the humans curdled to the surface. Even after Loki’s pointed attempts to influence its perspective of the humans, it had never imagined they would have been capable of culling a portion of their own population in order to halt the invading forces.

“I’m well aware of that, Doctor,” Romanoff answered curtly, her expression also disturbed. “Stark’s going after it,” the agent added, her voice oddly even as her eyes looked carefully blank. She looked down at the spirit as it carefully pulled the metal instrument through the rippling barrier. “Hold these in your hand and squeeze the Tesseract between the tongs when I say.”

It gazed up at the female agent in a mixture of wonder and apprehension. The metal human was planning on eliminating the evil device of destruction? The anger in its chest quelled at the shameful realization that it had believed the humans would be apathetic and uncaring to the plight of their own people. Of course, they would do whatever they could to protect their metropolis, or what was left of it after the Chitauri had desecrated it.

The two humans and the spirit waited with eyes to the sky as they searched for sign of the Iron Man or the murderous device. They did not wait for long as the metalloid human suddenly rocketed past the edge of the tower, traveling upwards at a 90 degree angle as he aimed straight for the middle of the shimmering gateway, bracing the radiological weapon along his back.

To the spirit’s complete astonishment, he went through.

The humans did not speak, though the doctor pulled in a loud breath. They waited, but the metal human did not appear. Through the undulating portal it could see stars on the other side, and the occasional Chitauri flier as it descended on the smoking city. There was no change until a bright orange light flared in the distance.

“Do it,” Romanoff ordered with a soft finality, and it finally understood. The SHIELD agent had expected the possibility that the Iron Man would not return, offering his life in order to spare his people from oblivion.

Its previous distrust for the humans caused shame to heat its cheeks, but it also served to steel the spirit for what it must do, lest his sacrifice be in vain.

Pulling its focus away from the black portal to the tantalizing artifact, it reached forward to maneuver the metal handles around the artifact’s glowing sides.

Angry sparks traveled between the Tesseract and the metal implement, and it hissed in pain as one particularly large bolt struck the tool, sending it flying from its tingling fingers as it ricocheted throughout the enclosed sphere. The tool came to rest in front of its folded knees, warped and smoking from the energetic result of the Tesseract’s uncontrollable nature.

“Hold on, Frost! I’ll find another pair, just hold on!”

The spirit glanced over its shoulder as the agent began to frantically search for a replacement with which it could handle the artifact, and the doctor stared up in dreaded awe as the orange sphere of light began to grow within the dark pupil of the gateway.

There was no time remaining for a secondary plan to be formed. It had to do what was required and trust in itself. If this was where it perished, than at least it knew it had done all it could.

The spirit stared down at the levitating, rotating Tesseract, the artifact calling to something within that could not be named, singing to the soul encased within the barriers of skin and veins and muscle. The artifact smelled of the gaseous clouds of kaleidoscopic colors and tasted of the innumerable stars in the universe.

It felt like… home.

Thrusting its hands forward, it grasped the humming artifact, delicate fingers and black claws pressing against opposite sides of the cube.

It thought it heard screaming, but it was not sure – it was no longer encapsulated within its human trappings. Only… it was. But it was also racing along the stream of the cerulean energy, joyful and exuberant and so completely free.

The spirit danced along the waves of energy, thrilling in its silent voice as it slammed into the portal, disrupting the stream and circling around the edges as it prepared to seal the open wound between the folds of space.

It noted a curious development – a falling figure from the dimension beyond, drawn towards the gravity on the planetary side of the portal. It watched while vibrating with fascination, faintly recalling another helpless being drifting in the cold of space. It was odd, so many creatures finding themselves falling through the darkness inhospitable to the living.

The spirit waited for the red and gold metallic humanoid to fall across the edges of the gateway before it pulled the seam closed, repairing the hole that should not have been, threading the folds of the universe back on themselves and sealing it shut with a satisfied thrumming vibration.

Once this task was completed, the spirit could not quite remember what it was supposed to do next. In its uncertainty, its fickle attention was distracted by the city below, drawn to the radiance which had been hidden by its previously limited vision.

The glory of the metropolis was exposed and shimmered in a fantastical array of hues and wavelengths. The rectangular obelisks which reached towards the sky reflected crystallized prisms from their glass portions. The rooftops rippled in a variegated array of infrared energy, and even the plumes of smoke from the destruction offered a mesmerizing array of molecular excitement.

But the lanes between the human structures… they were not filled with color, or light, or alluring energy. They were covered in a dark grey and lifeless black fog, filled with the terror and despair and lost hope of the populace. The spirit knew the source of that shroud, as did all who had passed on from one form of life or another.

Therein lies Death.

The spirit’s incorporeal form shivered, but it did not have long to linger on the darkness that marred the city. Something was pulling it back, growing stronger despite its attempts to ignore the irritating sensation. But it could not be avoided because it was also holding the Tesseract, screaming as fiery blue energy rushed over its skin, its left hand now molding into a black, armored gauntlet, and that was not supposed to be.

How was it here, floating above the human metropolis, and also kneeling with the artifact, and also watching the gargantuan Chitauri space vessel as a widening circle of fire consumed everything in its path?

It was not fragments of a whole – it was whole but occupying multiple fragments of space. Too many conflicting images and sensations crashed into its senses, and it cried in terror as the unholy planetoid of fire washed over the spirit.

It was dying, it was burning, it was-

-kneeling on the surface of a dead planet. Black sand and chilling winds tossing its hair about its face, green skies casting everything in a sickly hue.

-standing on a white, stone outcropping, the skyline imprinted with the silhouette of a golden fortress as gilded vessels flew overhead.

-perched above an emerald and cerulean forest of massive vegetation, cradled inside of an isolated valley surrounded by an endless ocean of white sand.

“Frost! Frost! Trinity!”

Its eyes snapped open as it rocked backwards, its other selves abruptly smashing together as it was pulled back to its singular body. Widened eyes darted around its surrounds to recognize where it was – sitting on a pebbly rooftop, its black claws trembling as its eyes looked to the voice who was calling its name, hard breathing at remembered agony of the atomic fire ripping its atoms apart.

“Frost?”

The spirit had returned to its incorporeal form for a brief moment, only to be thrust back into its human body. Disorienting and confusing images of what it had experienced vied for attention in its mind.

What of the foreign, differentiated landscapes it had been transported to? Where had it gone? It had only wished to close the portal, and yet, it had clearly done more than that. The Tesseract… what had it done?

It flexed its talons automatically, but the stone was no longer within its grasp. For it had been a stone, just like the mind-jewel. Different, but of the same ilk. And so powerful. Deliciously powerful. Dangerously powerful.

Its claws continued to tremble, but not from fear or exhaustion. It hungered for the artifact. It craved the energy which had flooded its senses, and the yearning went far deeper than mere physical need. There was something addicting about the raw power it had held in its hands, and it itched to feel the energy once more.

The humans could not have the stones. No one could have them. They were too-

“Frost? Can you hear me?”

The agent’s question interrupted its erratic thought process, its disturbing desires momentarily quieted as its vision widened to take the other occupants of its surroundings.

The female agent was in a kneeling position next to the spirit, her emerald eyes peering intently into its face. Dr. Selvig was also nearby, a pair of metal tongs in his hands, the glow and luring song of the Tesseract muffled as he closed the metallic case which now housed the stone.

With the blazing power of the Tesseract somewhat dampened and out of its reach, the spirit was able to think and articulate again. It licked its parched lips and focused its eyes on Agent Romanoff’s face, attempting to anchor its thoughts back to reality.

“The portal. What happened? Is it-“

“Gone,” the red-haired agent replied, giving a small, tensed smile. Despite the relieved expression on her face, the spirit did not neglect to notice her hand grasped firmly on its shoulder, just above where the line of pointed scales had ceased their growth.

“And the Iron Man?” it inquired even as it knew the answer. The spirit needed to hear it from another, that the whole strange event had not been imagined. Of being both in its body, and outside of it, and also across time and space to unknown parts of the universe.

“He made it back – just after you removed the Tesseract from the machine. Dr. Banner caught him in midair. Kinda wish I’d been there to see it.”

The spirit noted her tone of light humor, but could not reciprocate the attitude of relief. The agent seemed unaware of what had fully happened to the spirit. It was still shaken by the unexplainable event, as well as its unsettling lust for the artifacts which was only now beginning to quell.

Out of the corner of its eye, it noticed the way Dr. Selvig stared in its direction. When it turned its head to look at him, he poorly attempted to smile as if nothing were amiss.

“We’re good up here, might need a lift though. Stark’s landing pad is currently unusable,” Romanoff responded to the words coming through her communication device. “I’ll be right down.”

The spirit watched her as she approached, pulling something from a pouch around her waist.
“I’m sorry,” the agent apologized, holding a pair of very thin metallic threads in her hands. “I have to temporarily restrain you.”

The disappointment must have been obvious on its face, because she added, “It’s SHIELD procedure. Nothing personal.”

It did not move or speak, and she took this as a sign of compliance, because she approached with the metal bonds, hesitating when she realized they would not fit around its armored wrists. The spirit watched silently as the agent linked one of its booted ankles to the now-lifeless shell of the portal stabilizer, cinching the bond tightly.

“Someone will be up to take you both into custody for debriefing.”

“Where are you going?” the doctor voiced in alarm as the agent picked up the briefcase containing the cube-which-was-not.

It could sympathize with the male not wanting to be left alone with a non-human who had beastly appendages. But what did the doctor think it would do? It was exhausted, thirsty, apparently hungry again, and surrounded by strange beings in an equally strange world.

Where would it flee?

“Unfinished business,” she replied smoothly, though the way her eyes flickered quickly away from the spirit told it clearly enough where she was going.

Once they were alone after Romanoff had descended the ladder, Dr. Selvig smiled awkwardly and appeared to simultaneously place distance between him and the spirit while trying not to give offense. It only sat in silence, gazing out at the columns of smoke and the collapsed stone structures. It would take time for the humans to repair and rebuild.

They would not be kind to the being they thought responsible for this. It had spared Loki from one form of enslavement only for him to land in another.

And it realized, with a sinking sensation in its stomach, that its own future might be as tenuous as Loki’s.

Notes