Sanctuary
The galaxy beyond was silent.
A floating ruin of stone—Sanctuary—hung over the void like a judgment waiting to fall. Its fractured platforms drifted slowly, held together by forces older than most civilizations still standing. Nothing about the place looked welcoming. Nothing needed to.
The throne at the center dominated the space.
A massive figure sat upon it. Motionless. Unblinking. Watching. The shadow cast across the cracked floor was enough to tighten the lungs of anyone who stepped onto the platform. The air itself felt like it bowed around him.
Thanos did not move.
He didn't need to.
The Other approached the edge of the throne's dais and lowered his head.
"The humans guard their world with arrogance," he rasped.
"But their defenses are young. Their protectors… untested."
The Titan gave no reply, but the slightest shift of presence pressed outward—dangerous, overwhelming. Even silent, he felt like an approaching storm.
The Other steadied himself and continued.
"The Tesseract has awakened on their planet. The door stands ready. We need only the right hand to push it open."
A soft distortion rippled behind him.
A figure materialized—tall, lean, wearing green and black layered armor that gleamed faintly under Sanctuary's cold light. The long spear he carried balanced easily in his hand as though built uniquely for him.
Loki descended the last step with confidence in each stride.
His eyes, sharp and calculating, swept across the ruined throne room.
He looked at Thanos—not with fear, but with a measured wariness. Enough to acknowledge the power in front of him, not enough to concede anything.
"Your realm is charming," Loki said lightly.
"If one appreciates desolation."
The Other snarled.
Thanos did not react, but the air tightened again. The tiniest pressure. Enough to remind Loki that he remained in the presence of someone who could erase him with a thought.
Loki smiled thinly.
"I assume there is a reason you have summoned me."
The Other stepped aside. A small pedestal rose from the floor—metal plates shifting, unlocking, revealing something nested within.
A weapon.
The Scepter.
A long staff of alien alloy, a blade-like tip, and at its center a glowing blue gem that pulsed with restrained energy. Clean design. Precise. Nothing ornamental. A tool meant to break wills.
The Other extended a hand.
"This," he said,
"is the key you require."
Loki approached slowly.
Up close, the energy resonated in a way he immediately recognized—raw, living power. The kind that enhanced thought, sharpened intent, amplified the mind beyond natural limits. It hummed faintly, almost like a heartbeat.
He wrapped his fingers around the shaft.
The gem glowed brighter.
The Scepter aligned with him in a way no weapon had before—like something intelligent had finally found a compatible hand.
Loki inhaled once, steady.
"And Earth?" he asked.
The Other tilted his head.
"A weak world. Loud. Undisciplined. They have tasted miracles and believe themselves mighty."
Loki's smile widened.
"Then they require correction."
The Other stepped closer, voice dropping lower.
"Bring us the Tesseract. Open the way. Let the Chitauri fall upon them. In return, you will have your place—your throne—over the world you conquer."
Loki twirled the Scepter once, testing its weight. Perfect balance. Responsive. Dangerous.
He did not bow.
"I have no need for promises," he said.
"Only opportunity."
The Other exhaled sharply.
"Do not forget: the Tesseract is not your toy. It is a power you court at your peril."
Loki looked at him, eyes calm.
"If I feared peril, I would not be standing here."
The Other's expression twisted, somewhere between irritation and approval.
Thanos remained silent.
But Loki could feel the attention pressing down on him—massive, ancient, ruthless. A warning without words. A reminder that Sanctuary was not giving him a gift. It was giving him responsibility.
One that, if mishandled, would end him.
Loki gave a small, respectful nod—not subservience, but acknowledgment.
Then he turned. Space distorted behind him, swirling blue and white as the Tesseract's distant call aligned with the Scepter's energy.
The Other hissed:
"The humans believe their world safe."
Loki stepped into the forming portal.
"Let us correct their mistake."
And he vanished.
***
S.H.I.E.L.D. Joint Dark Energy Mission Facility – Nevada Desert, March 18, 2025
The underground complex thrummed with electricity.
Dozens of screens displayed erratic energy signatures. Armed personnel lined the balconies. Engineers hurried between terminals. Everything felt on edge, strained as though a single spark could send the entire chamber into chaos.
On the main level, Director Nick Fury walked briskly beside Dr. Erik Selvig. The older scientist tapped furiously at his tablet, frustration building with every passing second.
"Director, the Tesseract is reacting to something," Selvig said.
"It's unstable. More than we've ever recorded."
Fury frowned.
"Then shut it down."
Selvig exhaled.
"We can't. It's drawing power… from somewhere else."
Above them, on a metal walkway, Sue Storm leaned against the railing. Her suit was SHIELD-branded but lightweight, modified for quick movement. Her expression remained calm, eyes scanning the chamber and all its details with practiced precision.
Behind her, Johnny paced like a bored teenager waiting for a bus.
A flicker of flame danced between his fingertips.
Sue didn't turn, but she said:
"Johnny, stop that."
"What? I'm being responsible," Johnny replied.
"I'm not even on fire."
"Yet."
Johnny shrugged.
Below, Clint Barton perched on the highest catwalk, bow held loosely in one hand. He kept his eyes on the Tesseract. He didn't blink often.
Sue kept watching the cube. The hum in the air wasn't normal—she could feel the vibration through the rails. Something external was pressing in.
Johnny leaned beside her.
"So… betting this is the part where something bad happens."
Sue didn't look away.
"Johnny."
"Yeah?"
"Be ready."
The Tesseract flashed.
A shockwave rippled outward.
Monitors exploded with static. Lights flickered. Alarms blared.
Johnny's flames switched on instantly—his whole body outlined in a fiery glow.
Selvig stumbled back.
"It's reaching critical levels!"
Fury shouted:
"Shut it DOWN!"
But it was too late.
The cube's light condensed—shrinking inward into a single point—
Then erupted.
A column of blue energy shot upward like a beam drilling through reality.
Air warped. Time bent.
Across the room, Clint tightened his grip on his bow.
Johnny stepped forward.
Sue expanded a force field across the scientists, protecting them from the blast.
The light faded.
Something knelt at the center of the platform. Smoke drifted around him.
Gold and green armor.
A spear.
A calm, almost amused expression.
Loki stood.
Fury aimed his pistol immediately.
"Sir, put down the spear."
Loki tilted his head, scanning the room with a slow, deliberate gaze—recognizing every weapon, every exit, every weakness.
"I come with glad tidings," he said softly.
"Of a world made free."
Johnny muttered behind Sue:
"Yep. Villain entrance."
Sue elbowed him lightly without looking.
Loki's eyes shifted toward them.
A flicker of interest.
"Ah," he murmured.
"The firebrand and the invisible one. Midgard grows more interesting."
Fury stepped forward. "Who the hell are you?"
"Loki. Of Asgard. And I am burdened with glorious purpose."
Johnny snorted. "Somebody's been reading their own press releases."
Loki moved.
Fast.
The Scepter fired a blast straight into Fury, sending him slamming across the chamber.
Agents opened fire immediately.
Loki twirled the Scepter, deflecting bullets with sharp, precise movements, stepping between blasts as though the air itself bent around him.
Clint fired an arrow—Loki blocked it with a flick, redirecting it into a control panel that erupted in sparks.
Sue expanded a force field in front of two falling engineers, catching debris mid-air.
Johnny launched forward, igniting fully.
"Flame on!"
A streak of fire cut toward Loki—he blocked it with a quick barrier of green light. The flames parted around him.
Johnny shot another blast, then curved upward, circling Loki with speed.
But Loki simply lifted the Scepter and unleashed a concussive pulse. Johnny was hit mid-flight, knocked sideways—
Sue caught him with a force-field cushion before he hit the ground.
Johnny groaned.
"Okay… again."
"No," Sue snapped.
"We stay coordinated."
Loki landed lightly on one foot, spinning the Scepter once as if warming up.
His eyes went to Clint.
A single direct stare.
Clint hesitated—and Loki struck.
A narrow beam fired from the Scepter's blade. Clint tried to dodge, but the blast hit him in the chest. He locked into place—eyes flickering—before settling into a cold, empty calm.
His expression changed.
Loki stepped forward, touching the Scepter to Clint's chest again, sealing the control.
Clint stood.
"What do you need?" he asked quietly.
Loki smiled.
"You will show me the way."
Sue watched in alarm.
"Johnny—Clint's compromised!"
Johnny flared hotter.
"Then we take the spear guy out first!"
He blasted toward Loki again—
But Loki raised a hand, and a wave of pure kinetic force flung Johnny back like a toy. He skidded across the floor.
Sue dropped down to help him, eyes narrowing.
Loki approached the Tesseract's containment.
Selvig shouted:
"Don't touch that! It's unstable!"
Loki didn't slow.
"Yes," he said softly.
"I know."
He fired directly into the containment unit.
The chamber shook violently as the cube's power surged free—unbound, uncontrolled.
The entire platform trembled.
Sue shouted:
"Johnny!"
Johnny shot up, flames igniting fully.
"On it!"
The facility began to collapse.
The Tesseract pulsed harder, drawing the whole structure toward overload.
Sue threw up a wide dome around the scientists.
Johnny blasted debris from above.
Loki grabbed the Tesseract with one hand—its energy crawling across his armor. But he absorbed it, eyes narrowing, adjusting, enduring.
Behind him, Clint grabbed a fallen rifle.
Fury staggered up.
"Loki—DON'T!"
Loki turned slightly.
"I think I will."
He nodded to Clint.
Clint fired at the fuel cells.
The explosion tore through the chamber.