Unto Death (6)
I'll give a free doodle to anyone who writes a fic involving Loki/Artemis Entreri. Srsly. This is my crack!pairing of the year.
Previous Next
Morning
Loki found the building empty, the pale morning light casting long shadows across the hallway's linoleum floor. With half a word, the Trickster silenced the echoing click of his boots but could do nothing to dull the throb of his heartbeat in his ears. Unlike the warehouses, this was a government building still up and running; there should be personnel lurking here at all hours.
It was his first clue that there was something terribly wrong.
Perhaps he had been foolish to come here alone? No. No, Loki had long been used to doing things on his own. If he ever wanted to be his old self again, this was something he would have to face.
Loki gritted his teeth and walked faster, down the hall and to a flight of stairs that he knew led into the Ultimi lab. An Ultimus was the sort of thing the government would want to keep from windows, passers-by, and all potential prying eyes. The layout had not allowed for magic scrying, however, or for someone as well-versed in secrecy as Loki.
Lights flickered to life overhead as Loki descended, one hand ghosting over the railing in case his suddenly shaky legs failed him. The shadows deepened where the light did not reach.
“Are you still asleep, Thor?” Loki murmured to himself, hoping to distract his nerves with the sound of his voice. “Still snoring into your pillow?” The image conjured the ghost of a smile.
Loki threw open the door to the lab, a spell on the edge of his lips as his glance darted to all corners of the underground room, which was easily the size of a football field. He waited for the overhead lights to flicker on in rapid succession, like dominoes.
The room was empty, tables and cabinets wiped clean of equipment, metal surfaces glinting in the artificial light.
“What?” Loki breathed. He had expected a lab like the one he had destroyed before joining forces with the Avengers, bustling with life and voices and calculations, cluttered with high-end equipment and stinking of chemicals, Ultimus parts scattered like puzzle pieces.
Loki walked into the room, absently letting the door fall closed behind him. Was he in the wrong room?
A quick spell confirmed that he wasn't.
And then he saw it. In the corner, a laptop was perched open on a table, screen innocently blank and a green light flashing in the corner. Loki pursed his lips and approached the lone piece of technology, scanning it with his magic multiple times before daring to touch it.
He pressed a key at random, and the screen flickered to life at the touch. A scruffy human with a double chin and cold gray eyes stared through the screen, lips quirked in a condescending smile.
“Hello, Avengers,” the man said through the computer. Loki's eyes narrowed; this had to be a recording, which meant that he - or at least the Avengers - had been expected. His blood ran cold as he wondered: where were the last of the Ultimi? “We have been following your recent progress with great interest, but I'm afraid that stops here. All models of the Homo Ultimus variety are registered weapons belonging to the United States government, and we can do nothing but treat your repeated targeting of these weapons as an act of war. Such extreme action cannot go without retaliation.”
The hair on the back of Loki's neck prickled, and the Trickster suspected that he was not alone. He glanced down at the metal table, at his warped reflection and the warped reflection of the humanoid creature suddenly standing only a few paces behind him. Loki reached for his magic.
“Which is why, I'm afraid,” the man in the computer continued, “that we are going to need to test this new brand of Ultimus sooner than planned. The remaining Ultimi were set to go on the moment you entered this room. You should find a small army waiting for you back at the mansion.”
Loki heard the words but did not have time to register them. He snapped about, pressing his palm against the chest of the straggling Ultimus and watching as spikes of ice shot from his fingertips and froze his enemy mid-stride. Loki stared into the blank face of the Ultimus, barely an inch from his nose, and staggered back a step, skin hot and clammy with the threat of nausea. A thick sheen of ice had turned the Ultimus into a living popsicle, and Loki let out a nervous, shuddering laugh at the thought.
He could imagine, for the briefest, sweetest moment, that this was Abaddon in front of him, still and helpless and completely at his mercy. Too bad Loki had none.
His nervous smile faded as he remembered Abaddon's propensity for illusion and realized just what these humans had created.
“They made you intelligent, strong, and able to blend in anywhere at anytime,” Loki murmured to the Ultimus. “They just didn't think to give you a conscience.”
This creation had been based on him.
With a hoarse, inarticulate shout, Loki dropped the ceiling on the lone Ultimus, pummeling it with stone and steel until it shattered into tiny, frozen fragments and until those fragments shattered into grains of dust. Shielded from the destruction, all Loki wanted to do was sit down amidst the ruins and lament the wasted seconds of his life, but before he could, the words of the computer message flit back to him.
You should find a small army waiting for you back at the mansion.
Loki screwed his eyes shut, ignoring the tears that froze halfway down his cheeks.
“Dammit,” he groaned.
He could just leave the Avengers to fend for themselves. They would be fine without him but...
There was something he had to do first.
Loki turned back to the laptop, which remained perfectly intact within the bubble of his shield, and began to run long fingers over the keyboard.
Thor found Loki's room empty, but breathed out a sigh of relief when he turned to see his brother standing in the hallway.
“Good morning, brother,” Loki said, his smile far too innocent. The morning light softened and blurred the edges of his features, exaggerating the contrast between dark hair, pale skin, and green eyes.
“You startled me,” Thor sighed, though he supposed that had been the point. “Where were you?”
“That does not matter,” Loki replied, waving aside Thor's question with a flippant gesture. “What matters is that there are intruders in the mansion.” Loki said this as though he were discussing the weather, pausing to examine his fingernails.
“What?” Thor roared, fingers itching to grasp Mjolnir. The hammer flew to him as though reading his thoughts.
“Intruders,” Loki repeated blithely, barely even flinching at the speeding hammer. “In the mansion.”
Thor prepared to charge head first into danger, only to remember that he did not know where said “danger” currently was.
“Where?” Thor growled, hefting Mjolnir. “And who're the intruders?”
“I'm not sure,” Loki sighed, “and a bunch of Ultimi.”
Thor stared at Loki for a long moment, taken aback by the ease with which he said the name. He had always spoken of the Ultimi casually - too casually - but there was always the barest tightening around the corners of his eyes and in the muscles of his jaw that belied the act. His blasé attitude towards the aberrations was, for once, the truth, but he did not have time to ponder what that meant.
“We should find Tony,” he said. As the mansion's owner, he knew this house inside and out.
Thor heard Loki hum an affirmative, trailing behind as he marched down the hall in the general direction of Tony's chambers.
He did not expect the heavy blow that cracked against the back of his skull.
* * * * *
Oh noes! D:
Sorry for another cliffhanger, guys. Blame Loki! *points*
Previous Next
Previous Next
Morning
Loki found the building empty, the pale morning light casting long shadows across the hallway's linoleum floor. With half a word, the Trickster silenced the echoing click of his boots but could do nothing to dull the throb of his heartbeat in his ears. Unlike the warehouses, this was a government building still up and running; there should be personnel lurking here at all hours.
It was his first clue that there was something terribly wrong.
Perhaps he had been foolish to come here alone? No. No, Loki had long been used to doing things on his own. If he ever wanted to be his old self again, this was something he would have to face.
Loki gritted his teeth and walked faster, down the hall and to a flight of stairs that he knew led into the Ultimi lab. An Ultimus was the sort of thing the government would want to keep from windows, passers-by, and all potential prying eyes. The layout had not allowed for magic scrying, however, or for someone as well-versed in secrecy as Loki.
Lights flickered to life overhead as Loki descended, one hand ghosting over the railing in case his suddenly shaky legs failed him. The shadows deepened where the light did not reach.
“Are you still asleep, Thor?” Loki murmured to himself, hoping to distract his nerves with the sound of his voice. “Still snoring into your pillow?” The image conjured the ghost of a smile.
Loki threw open the door to the lab, a spell on the edge of his lips as his glance darted to all corners of the underground room, which was easily the size of a football field. He waited for the overhead lights to flicker on in rapid succession, like dominoes.
The room was empty, tables and cabinets wiped clean of equipment, metal surfaces glinting in the artificial light.
“What?” Loki breathed. He had expected a lab like the one he had destroyed before joining forces with the Avengers, bustling with life and voices and calculations, cluttered with high-end equipment and stinking of chemicals, Ultimus parts scattered like puzzle pieces.
Loki walked into the room, absently letting the door fall closed behind him. Was he in the wrong room?
A quick spell confirmed that he wasn't.
And then he saw it. In the corner, a laptop was perched open on a table, screen innocently blank and a green light flashing in the corner. Loki pursed his lips and approached the lone piece of technology, scanning it with his magic multiple times before daring to touch it.
He pressed a key at random, and the screen flickered to life at the touch. A scruffy human with a double chin and cold gray eyes stared through the screen, lips quirked in a condescending smile.
“Hello, Avengers,” the man said through the computer. Loki's eyes narrowed; this had to be a recording, which meant that he - or at least the Avengers - had been expected. His blood ran cold as he wondered: where were the last of the Ultimi? “We have been following your recent progress with great interest, but I'm afraid that stops here. All models of the Homo Ultimus variety are registered weapons belonging to the United States government, and we can do nothing but treat your repeated targeting of these weapons as an act of war. Such extreme action cannot go without retaliation.”
The hair on the back of Loki's neck prickled, and the Trickster suspected that he was not alone. He glanced down at the metal table, at his warped reflection and the warped reflection of the humanoid creature suddenly standing only a few paces behind him. Loki reached for his magic.
“Which is why, I'm afraid,” the man in the computer continued, “that we are going to need to test this new brand of Ultimus sooner than planned. The remaining Ultimi were set to go on the moment you entered this room. You should find a small army waiting for you back at the mansion.”
Loki heard the words but did not have time to register them. He snapped about, pressing his palm against the chest of the straggling Ultimus and watching as spikes of ice shot from his fingertips and froze his enemy mid-stride. Loki stared into the blank face of the Ultimus, barely an inch from his nose, and staggered back a step, skin hot and clammy with the threat of nausea. A thick sheen of ice had turned the Ultimus into a living popsicle, and Loki let out a nervous, shuddering laugh at the thought.
He could imagine, for the briefest, sweetest moment, that this was Abaddon in front of him, still and helpless and completely at his mercy. Too bad Loki had none.
His nervous smile faded as he remembered Abaddon's propensity for illusion and realized just what these humans had created.
“They made you intelligent, strong, and able to blend in anywhere at anytime,” Loki murmured to the Ultimus. “They just didn't think to give you a conscience.”
This creation had been based on him.
With a hoarse, inarticulate shout, Loki dropped the ceiling on the lone Ultimus, pummeling it with stone and steel until it shattered into tiny, frozen fragments and until those fragments shattered into grains of dust. Shielded from the destruction, all Loki wanted to do was sit down amidst the ruins and lament the wasted seconds of his life, but before he could, the words of the computer message flit back to him.
You should find a small army waiting for you back at the mansion.
Loki screwed his eyes shut, ignoring the tears that froze halfway down his cheeks.
“Dammit,” he groaned.
He could just leave the Avengers to fend for themselves. They would be fine without him but...
There was something he had to do first.
Loki turned back to the laptop, which remained perfectly intact within the bubble of his shield, and began to run long fingers over the keyboard.
Thor found Loki's room empty, but breathed out a sigh of relief when he turned to see his brother standing in the hallway.
“Good morning, brother,” Loki said, his smile far too innocent. The morning light softened and blurred the edges of his features, exaggerating the contrast between dark hair, pale skin, and green eyes.
“You startled me,” Thor sighed, though he supposed that had been the point. “Where were you?”
“That does not matter,” Loki replied, waving aside Thor's question with a flippant gesture. “What matters is that there are intruders in the mansion.” Loki said this as though he were discussing the weather, pausing to examine his fingernails.
“What?” Thor roared, fingers itching to grasp Mjolnir. The hammer flew to him as though reading his thoughts.
“Intruders,” Loki repeated blithely, barely even flinching at the speeding hammer. “In the mansion.”
Thor prepared to charge head first into danger, only to remember that he did not know where said “danger” currently was.
“Where?” Thor growled, hefting Mjolnir. “And who're the intruders?”
“I'm not sure,” Loki sighed, “and a bunch of Ultimi.”
Thor stared at Loki for a long moment, taken aback by the ease with which he said the name. He had always spoken of the Ultimi casually - too casually - but there was always the barest tightening around the corners of his eyes and in the muscles of his jaw that belied the act. His blasé attitude towards the aberrations was, for once, the truth, but he did not have time to ponder what that meant.
“We should find Tony,” he said. As the mansion's owner, he knew this house inside and out.
Thor heard Loki hum an affirmative, trailing behind as he marched down the hall in the general direction of Tony's chambers.
He did not expect the heavy blow that cracked against the back of his skull.
* * * * *
Oh noes! D:
Sorry for another cliffhanger, guys. Blame Loki! *points*
Previous Next