In These Empty Eyes

Chapter 1

A sharp pain seared through his very bones. Everything hurt. All he could register was pain. Had he ever not hurt? He wasn't sure.

The very air surrounding him was heavy, crushing him mercilessly down into the hard ground beneath him. At least, he thought it might be ground. He wasn't entirely sure it was though…

All around him was a blue energy, twisting, writhing, sinking into him and dominating all his senses.

He felt as if he were being torn asunder from the inside out. Like his mind was breaking and being torn to tatters as he lay there shaking, bloody and broken.

His vision darkened around the edges, was he going to die? Would the pain cease if he did? If so… he hoped he would die…

Pain…

It was the first thing he felt. It was a deep ache that penetrated his very bones. He twitched his fingers; the small movement sent fiery sharp pains through his veins throughout his arm.

His breath was caught in his throat.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't scream, he couldn't think.

Forcing his eyes to snap open he stared upwards. Everything was a blur; dark-twisting shapes swam through smears of monochromatic grey. A quiet series of murmurs hummed lowly in the back of his mind. They were indecipherable.

There was an overwhelming fear flooding through him though he could not pinpoint why. He gave a wheezing cough and felt something wet and warm dribble down his chin.

…Blood?

It seemed as if the sticky, viscous liquid was staining his skin and clothes from his torso as well. His ribs felt shattered and his organs hurt. Patches of his flesh felt inflamed, a searing fire left behind as a twisted scathing reminder of something he could not remember.

He didn't understand what was going on, where was he?

…Who was he?

He tried to think trough the pain but his mind rebelled against him. His brain felt like it was burning…

Black spots appeared in his vision and he let the darkness claim him.

He was shrouded in a hazy awareness the next he woke, he was unsure of how long he had been unconscious but the pain had faded to a bone weary ache throughout his body. The air was comfortably cool against his skin and rocks and stones dug into his back where he lay in the dust.

A groan escaped him as he shifted his body carefully. A foot delivered a swift kick to his ribs in response and a strange hissing voice snarled out "Get up… he deignssss to sssspeak with you, pathetic creature…"

Hauling himself up onto his skinned elbows he cracked his eyes open blearily, focusing on the dust and dirt beneath him as he dragged himself to his feet. He felt as if he was on the verge of collapse though he didn't know why. Despite the pain he forced himself to look up at his current tormentor.

The sight made him freeze. He had no idea, no reference on what sort of being stood in front of him. I was covered in strange garments, the only parts of its flesh visible was its lower face and hands. The flesh was stretched and wrinkled, an off sort of grey-pink colour. Each of its hands sported a second thumb and cracked, sharp looking fingernails, though claw may have been more of an apt description.

He gasped for air as his lungs burned, staring at the thing in front of him. It lunged forwards faster than he anticipated it to be capable of doing and grabbed him by his jaw, dragging him close to its face. Snarling through rows of fangs it hissed out, "Don't jussst sssstand there, inssssolent brat!"

Before he could rasp out a reply the being threw him towards a series of rough floating stone stairs that disappeared around the stone structure that seemed to serve as a wall.

Pulling himself up off the ground he took notice of his hands. They were… blue…. Disgust and shame welled up inside him. They were a hideous, monstrous blue with unpleasant raised lines that made him want to claw off the blue skin in hopes of there being a proper skin beneath it.

Forcing himself to stand he began stumbling up the jagged steps on shaky legs, trying to ignore his skin. He heard the unusual being's footsteps behind him along with its harsh loud breaths. Trying to focus on anything else he stared upwards at the smattering of distant stars and swirling multicoloured gasses. It was terrifying… He was struck with a brief vision flashing before his eyes, he was falling… it was cold…so cold… pain, fear, shame… he was… being torn apart… atom by atom…

The sight of the stars filled him with unease; he was very, very far from home. With a jolt he realized he didn't even know where home was. Did he have a home? Did he have a …family? A stabbing pain in his head distracted him from his thoughts. Making a keening sound he curled into himself, clutching his head tightly as tears welled up in his eyes.

Uncaring for his pain the deformed looking being shoved him onwards roughly, snapping at him to, "Keep walking! He waitssss for no one…"

Shuddering at that ominous statement he dragged his aching body up another few steps. Turning another stone corner he saw the end of the stairs, they led up to a large dais leading up an enormous throne with what appeared to be faded bloodstains coating the ground in front of it. On top of the throne sat an enormous purple skinned man covered in a thick armor and sporting a malicious grin.

His stomach twisted into knots upon seeing the large intimidating man on the bloody throne. The man leaned forwards, staring straight at him; asking in a dark voice, "What do we have here then? This is the one we drew from the void?"

The man sounded morbidly curious, staring at him like he was a particularly fascinating insect. He wanted to cringe back, to run and hide. But that would only make him look weak and he knew that he absolutely could not appear weak. Not here.

"Awfully small isn't he? Fascinating isn't it. How so many of the strongest and fiercest warriors should perish, torn asunder in the void, when the one to survive the depths of the void would be a scrawny boy. Surviving merely by sheer chance. By nothing but luck and good timing." The man spoke once more. The enormous mans intense gaze never left his face.

He didn't know if he should consider that a good or a bad thing. If this violet skinned giant was taking an interest in him it could mean he would be able to become too valuable to simply dispose of him.

On the other hand the man could decide to expect more from him because the man had focused his attention on him.

He needed a plan. He needed to survive.

He figured the best he could do at the moment was to do what he was told, keep the large man happy.

"Tell me," The man began, "Do you know your name?" The man looked expectant, as if fully aware what he was going to say in response.

He shook his head, making it throb painfully, and whispered hoarsely, "No…"

Satisfaction crosses the mans face as the man replied, "You are Loki, my child; The Other has brought you before me because you are my tool, my weapon. You are mine to be used and discarded at my will. This is your purpose. Do you understand?" The man's narrowed eyes told him he had no choice in the matter.

Loki…

The name felt familiar to him… He was Loki.

He was a weapon.

He was a tool.

He could be… useful…

He was… useful.

Loki nodded carefully, he understood. Opening his mouth he cleared his throat and asked softly, "…Who are you…?"

The man rose to his feet, towering over Loki as he spoke, booming voice echoing around the empty plain, "I am Thanos." The name seemed to hang in the air, leaving a ringing in his ears as if the very word held power.

Loki swallowed, his throat dry and scratchy. Thanos. He felt wary of the name. Like he knew it from somewhere. Like he knew to be afraid.

He was overwhelmed with relief when Thanos turned away from him and focused upon the strange being, The Other, that had brought Loki before the blood stained throne. "Prepare Loki and take him to his siblings. He is to join them in their training immediately." Thanos ordered the being. His slow twisted grin made Loki's stomach drop.

He contemplated Thanos's words; he had siblings? Did they know who Loki was? All he had was his name…

He needed to know.

Thanos turned his attention back to Loki, stating, "Welcome, my child... To Sanctuary."

Loki had been roughly dragged from the dais with the throne and handed off to a pair of creatures that somewhat resembled The Other. They shoved him into a cavernous room with a dark pool of water in the center. The pair of soldiers instantly set upon him, tearing at his ripped bloody garments.

Letting out a wordless sound of surprised indignation Loki tried to squirm away and pull up his clothing but he was injured and weaker than them, his fighting only earned him a nasty claw across the face and a series of angry clicks from the creatures.

The dirty torn clothes were all he had apart from his name and he wasn't about to give them up without a fight. They didn't look like the odd armors he had seen everyone else wear. The outfit had a variety of intricate designs and was made of rich leathers and fine fabrics. Where had he got such things? All he knew was that they must have been his. Trying one more Loki lunged for his clothing, shouting, "No!"

One of the monstrous soldiers shoved him back onto the rough stone floor. His aching ribs hit the ground hard and pain shot through him as he banged the back of his head on the stone.

After the armored creatures had stripped him naked they dragged him up, pushing his trembling, broken blue body into the water. The icy water engulfed him, clinging to his limbs, but he did not feel bothered by the chill. It was comfortably cold as it caressed his hideous blue skin as it sucked him downwards. Breaking free of its comforting grip he forced himself upwards as his lungs ached. Loki broke the surface of the water, gasping for air as the cold water sloshed over the sides of the small, circular bath.

Wiping the water droplets from his eyes he flicked his eyes around the room, noticing one of the soldiers had acquired a set of clothing and armor from somewhere and stood a short distance away, staring at him blankly. The second walk over to him briskly and shoved his head back under the water.

His breath was pulled from his lungs and the water burned his eyes. Dark red swirled through the freezing liquid engulfing him. Blood…It was blood, from his wounds.

Struggling against the strong grip holding him under the water Loki watched as dark spots filled his vision while his lungs burned for air. As his struggles got weaker and weaker Loki began to wonder if they were going to actually drown him. No, they couldn't. Thanos had plans for him…

Just when he was convinced he was about to pass out he was hauled up so he could breathe.

Loki clung desperately to the edge while he violently coughed up water. He felt rough, gloved hands on his body and using the last of his strength he tried to shy away but it was no use.

The hands roughly ran over his wounds, scrubbing off the blood and grime. His head was yanked back painfully by the hair and he let out a yelp. The clawed hands ran its fingers through Loki's black hair getting tangled in the strands. Ignoring Loki's weak attempts to draw its hands away the armored creature smacked away his arms and scrubbed Loki's scalp roughly. Ripping out a few hairs and leaving small cuts in its wake with it's jagged claws.

Once the creature deemed him clean enough it rose from where it knelt by the edge and hauled Loki out, throwing him to the stone floor by the scruff of his neck. The clothing held by the other soldier was thrown into his face. Loki immediately set to pulling on the outfit, not wanting to the creatures to touch him again. It hurt to pull the clothes onto his aching wounded body but he knew he didn't have a choice. If he didn't do it himself then they would.

Once he was dressed Loki was grabbed by the arm and dragged out into a series of plain eerie corridors, they were all the same. Loki wondered if they really were all the same corridor, there wasn't any notable difference. The pair of deformed soldiers eventually stopped shoved him through the door where it closed behind him. Loki took a look around; it was lit better than the last room and fairly large with a smooth floor and walls. In the center of the room stood three people. Two were women, one tall with metallic blue skin and various robotic… additions to her body, and the other tall and dark haired with soft green skin. The man was overwhelmingly tall and thin with wrinkled white skin and a willowy frame.

They all turned to look at him as tried to shift towards the doors. He wanted to run, to escape. The metallic blue woman sneered in distaste at him while the green skinned woman fixed him with a blank indecipherable expression.

The tall man strode towards Loki gracefully, saying in a soft breathy voice, "Ah… You must be Loki… We've been waiting for you…" Loki felt a chill run up his spine, unnerved by the man. "I am the Ebony Maw… This…" He motioned to the green skinned woman, "Is Gamora… And this…" He motioned to the other woman, "Is Nebula…"

"Why does he have to be here? What good is he? Slinking towards the exit, pathetic! We've worked hard, done all we could for father! Why does he deserve such an honor?" Nebula snapped, glaring at him with cold black eyes.

At those words Loki thought he saw something cross Gamora's face for a moment but it quickly disappeared, leaving her a blank slate. Brushing a strand of damp hair out of his face Loki tilted his head, considering saying something in his defense but was cut off by the Ebony Maw, "He is here because Thanos willed it... Loki was named a Child of Thanos… He is to learn to serve our father… In every way he can…" At that the Ebony Maw rested a boney hand on Loki's aching shoulder. Loki desperately wanted to shift away from the touch but held still, refusing to look any weaker than he already did.

Scowling Nebula glared once more at Loki before looking away stubbornly. "Well then…" The Ebony Maw removed his hand and drifted towards the other two, "Shall we begin training… immediately...? Loki…? Nebula…?"

At that Nebula snapped to attention, grinning maliciously as she bolted towards Loki and before he could react, landed a swift forceful punch to his jaw and a sharp kick to his already pained ribs. Loki went sprawling back onto the hard floor, clutching his ribs in pain as he wheezed.

As he tried to get up she lunged at him, kneeing him in the gut and wrapped her hand around his throat. Flailing in panic Loki slammed his fist into her face and felt pain shoot up his wrist. Her skin was much harder than he had anticipated but it made her loosen her grip and the satisfaction of seeing her head snap to the side made the pain worth it.

In the split second of her distraction Loki wrenched himself from her grip and staggered up, sending a kick as hard as he could towards her head. Nebula's robotic arm snapped up and grabbed his foot twisting his ankle, sending him crashing to the smooth stone floor. Shifting his weight Loki rolled away from her mid fall and skittered back. He was exhausted and injured; he knew he couldn't win in hand-to-hand combat. He needed to escape. He needed space. He needed a plan.

Nebula leapt up after him, already sprinting forwards with her arm pulled back for a punch. Loki ducked under her fist and tried to send a swift uppercut to her face but she caught his leg and slammed him to the floor once again.

Dragging himself up he tried to use sédir to make some illusions but when he did his veins seemed to burn. He had used too much of his magic. When had he…

Taking notice of his lack of focus Nebula grabbed hold of his arm and threw him hard into the floor again.

His muscles were screaming at him and he must have torn open some of his wounds. He could feel blood welling up under his strange new armor. Loki tried to scramble away from her but she landed a solid punch to his head and he slumped to the floor. Everything looked like a blur and all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. His head throbbed painfully with every breath he took.

He took another blow to the temple and his vision went black.

Loki woke after an indiscernible amount of time. He was lying on a stiff mat that provided no sense of comfort. Pushing up his sore body he looked around. He was in a bedroom that more closely resembled a prison cell. The room was barren apart from the 'bed' a closet and a door. Everything there was bland and monochromatic.

Getting up he staggered toward the door. Every part of his body felt strained. Stopping in front of the door he paused, looking down at his ugly blue hands hanging down at his sides. Was he really there?

He couldn't help but wonder had he only dreamed everything? Loki wasn't sure. Everything felt hazy.

Curiously Loki opened the door, swaying slightly, wondering where he was.

Outside were the same blank corridors as in his dream. His not-dream? Half-dream?

Stumbling through the corridors past the occasional armored creature Loki wondered what was going on. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep or how he got to be in that room. Or what had happened after his fight with Nebula. Loki grimaced remembering just how badly he'd been beaten.

Turning a corner that looked identical to every other corner he'd walked by Loki came across the green skinned woman from earlier. Gomorra? Gamera? Loki wasn't sure but he knew it was something like that.

Quickening his pace he came up behind her and reached out to touch her shoulder. Before he could she whipped around, grabbing him by the wrist to twist his arm back and held a knife to his throat.

Staring at her with wide eyes he edged backwards slightly. She stared into his face for a few long moments before putting away the blade. Shifting uncomfortably Loki hesitated before blurting out, "Is this real?"

He winced slightly, that hadn't been what he'd meant to ask. He had wanted to ask what was happening. Loki opened his mouth to try and clarify but the woman cut him off with a snort. "It sure is. Did it take you this long to realize that?"

Loki felt himself blush in embarrassment. Shifting from foot he stammered out, "I-I just meant, that is- What's going on?"

She gave him a look that was part sympathetic and part pitying. He hated it.

"You're a Child of Thanos now. From what I've heard you were pulled from the void, I doubt that though. People don't just get pulled from the void." She turned and began down the corridor, passing one of the strange soldiers.

Loki darted ahead to walk next to the green skinned woman asking, "What does that mean? Child of Thanos?"

"It means you're a soldier. An assassin. A weapon. You live and fight for our 'father'." She said coldly.

Loki reeled back, confused, "You are… displeased with your current situation?" He asked, "But doesn't Thanos give you, us, a purpose? Like he said, we are his to use to his ends."

He didn't feel comfortable with Thanos, his… father… but all Loki knew for sure was that his name was Loki; Thanos had told him so and the name did feel familiar. Meaning the rest must have been true as well; he belonged to Thanos. All that should matter was that he was useful…

She shot him a look and frowned but didn't say anything more until the reached a plain metal door that looked identical to every other one they had past. Tapping the panel next to it on the wall the door slid open revealing the room from before where he had fought Nebula.

He hesitated before following her inside. Once they reached the center of the room she turned to face him and puled out a sharp blade. He took a step backwards as they met each other's gaze.

Without a pause she pulled back her arm and threw the blade at him. Unthinkingly Loki jumped out its path, tensing up in preparation for a fight.

She gave him a flat stare before saying, "You're supposed to catch it, Loki right?"

Comprehension dawned on him as he sprinted to pick up the blade, walking back to her. "Oh. Ah, yes. You were… Gamera…?"

"Gamora."

"Right," Loki corrected himself, "Gamora."

Gamora took out a blade for herself and looked at him, saying, "I saw your performance earlier, you're going to need to be strong if you want to survive here."

Before he could retort that he had been injured she leapt forwards, slashing her blade through the air towards his neck.

Hastily Loki snapped his arm up, using the dagger in his hand to block Gamora's attack. Pushing her back he went on the offensive, attempting a stab at her stomach. She leapt away; twisting her body mid-fall Gamora threw her blade towards him where it pierced his hand. Letting out a pained keening noise he dropped his own dagger as he pulled hers from his hand, dark violet blood flowing freely from the wound.

Gamora took advantage of his distraction by kicking the weapon from his hand, diving forwards to grab the closest blade from where it lay on the cold floor. Thinking quickly Loki summoned the other dagger with his sédir, teleporting behind Gamora clutching the weapon in his uninjured hand. It burned his core to use his magic; it felt as if he had somehow expended his entire reserves and then some. Unsure of how that had occurred Loki pushed his finding to the back of his mind.

Twisting around Gamora swiftly blocked his strike and shoved him back. They stood a short distance apart watching each other carefully before Gamora spoke, "Not bad, although…" She leapt forwards with a burst of speed, ripping out another blade, using his surprise against him as she disarmed him; slamming him into the floor holding a blade in each hand against his neck.

The situation reminded Loki unpleasantly of his fight with Nebula. Looking at him coolly with dark eyes she said in a voice devoid of emotion, "You can't go around expecting others to fight fair. People will use everything at their disposal in a fight. You need to fight to kill using every skill and weapon you possess." He huffed, glaring up at the green skinned woman as she drew away from him. Putting away the daggers in her hands she walked calmly over to where the other blade lay on the stone floor.

He dragged himself up off the ground, cradling his injured ugly blue, blue, hand against his chest. Loki debated whether it would be worth it to attempt to heal his hand with his sédir before remembering the sensation of simply teleporting a meager couple of feet in his spar with Gamora. It had burned. Like he was tearing himself apart. He probably didn't even have enough sédir at the moment to heal a bruise.

Grimacing in malcontent Loki looked up from his blue hands and strange violet blood to where Gamora stood in front of him with the blade. Flipping it she held the dagger out to him handle first, raising one of her eyebrows.

Loki stared at the blade for a moment, watching it glint in the light. Something felt wrong. Everything felt just slightly off. Why didn't he remember anything…?

Looking up at Gamora, his sister, Loki shoved away those traitorous thoughts. He was Loki of Sanctuary, son of Thanos. He was a tool. A weapon. And he would fulfill his purpose, serving his father.

He reached out and grabbed the blade.

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