A/N:
Chapter 1-9: Recruitment
Chapter 10: Interlude
Chapters 11-XX: Training and Machinations [and Bickering]
Epilogue: Opening Night

Ensemble team featuring Loki, Red Skull, Sigyn, Karnilla, Hela, Ronan, Guillotine, Doctor Strange, and Taskmaster. Appearances from The Enchantress and other Marvel characters.

1. RED SKULL l

He has the smile of a hyena, the eyes of a fox, the majesty of an owl, and the body of marble and silver columns. Here, in the skewed valley of degraded metal and sooty ashes, I rise to meet my creator. Or should I say my recreator?

"Johann Shmidt, step forward." I do. All I can think of is how strange it feels to have a body again, and how I stand before someone who is much stronger than I. "Do you know who I am?" the albumen white sorcerer asks with a crinkled sort of smirk behind the shade of his hood.

"No, sir."

"Do you know from whence I brought you out?"

I have a faint idea. Flags with a red base and a white circle and some square-ish lines flash behind my eyes, then there's a bright blue fire that burns but not quite, then darkness. The feeling of toes twitching in my boots derails me from uncovering the facts for myself. I settle with: "No, sir."

The gentlemen in the charcoal coat and jewels of ancient times at the edges pushes down his hood. Lucid blue tourmaline eyes match mine. "I am Loki. I am he who collected your soul from the dust of this realm and gave you life anew. Ask not how, for it is no matter you must know. You may ask me two questions, two alone. Choose wisely."

My chest flutters as if I ran a mile. "My...my god." The bloody bastard of ancient times grins slightly. "Loki Odinson, of the Norse legends?"

He casts a dreadfully bored glance away from me into the dark horizon. "Is that your first question?"

"No! No, I...I am smitten, Prince of Ages." I remember Loki as the God of Mischief (I say God of Chaos), one of immeasurable power with a mind as vast as Yggdrasil itself, so I know he means it that I have only two questions to ask him. How to phrase them so I receive more than five word answers is the tricky business.

"Would you please elaborate of my becoming?"

The god tosses a titanium dagger with three peculiar gems encased in the handle up, then catches it, then stashes it inside his draping coat as he walks circles around me. He walks like mountains.

"At the end of your battle with Sir Rogers, you fell between the realms with which I presume was the Tesseract. In your mortal foolishness you allied with the Titanian called Thanos when he found you, but in the realms there is none so overconfident in their so-called talents than Midgardians. You became of no use naturally, so here you were left behind until the dying heart of this cooled nova gorged on your soul. I know of this because I hold your memories. I raised you with my blood, and left you with the memories I need you to remember. Second question."

"What am I to call you?"

He stops, then untwines his steps until he faces me again. His skin looks so cold this close that a shock of ice splits up my spine. "You will call me Captain, who is also your god and your surrogate father. Thus, you will obey me in all I say and never ask a question without my permission, understood?"

But 'Captain' sounds so small for such a giant. I grin and salute him, saying: "Yes,Führer."

Power grins because he knows something I don't, but I pardon it. After all, his power could be mine by honor. A being of my dreams exists indeed, and I have found his favor.

"I afford you another question, child. I see it burn in you."

To think back to all my faith and consider now where I stand before a god all called me foolish for believing in indulged the child in me.

"What is my purpose?" I ask, and whatever his answer is will be schwarzwälder kirschtorte to my soul.

His eyes flicker over my body, then land on mine again. He stands taller, chin balancing a whole world proudly. "You are my soldier. You will fight for a future without flags." Then he slips out his dagger, which I now notice holds his blood.

Sweet, powerful blood of the God of Chaos.

He offers it to me before he turns to trace a path I don't know. "Come, Johann. We have much to prepare."

I steal the blood off his dagger for my own red fingers, then smear it under my eyes. A mark of war. All will know who I serve, and my devotion will not be thwarted.

My Führer is a mile ahead of me, so I run as fast as I can to catch up, ignoring the tingles shocking a body still not used to being put together again.

. . .

TBC