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He felt invincible. The sudden release of magic had left him with a high that mingled rather nicely with an adrenaline rush. Loki scrabbled over the wreckage, fingers clawing at the rock. Blood rushing in his ears, he pulled himself forward. Once clear of the debris, emerald eyes fixed upon the retreating mortal. Stark had selected the wrong god to anger. Even if they captured him, even if he never saw the light of day again, the God of Mischief would have his revenge. He would drag Tony down with him – and the mortal would perish.

As Stark disappeared from view, skittering down some forsaken hallway, Loki snarled. It was pleasing to see him run. The man was fearful, as he should be. Mentally, Loki bade him to run faster, to slip further into panic. The God gave chase, feet landing heavily upon the stone. There was no need for subtlety here. Right now, there would be nothing more fulfilling to see than Stark's fear-filled eyes. What better way to inspire it than to let him know just how far away his killer was?

To his credit, the Man of Iron did a decent job of staying ahead. In spite of the unfamiliar terrain, it seemed he was able to stay just a few steps ahead of the rabid god. Just when Loki thought he might curl a hand around that tanned neck, the mortal pulled ahead. Yet it was only a matter of time. He could already hear the tell-tale panting of his prey. The god smirked as best he could. Getting tired already 'Man of Iron'? The dungeon corridor twisted and branched off, a veritable maze meant to confuse those that would escape. The dwarves had crafted it, along with the rest of the castle. Tunnels branched throughout the bowels of Asgard, even digging into the roots of the great Yggdrasil. Long ago, he had heard that if one listened closely enough, they could hear the whispers of the Celestial Axis. It was poetic to see such a genius duped by a dungeon.

Such a shame when his dogged pursuit came to an abrupt stop. Evidently, the Iron Man's luck had run out – a large stone wall blocked further progress. Loki slowed, taking his time to approach the mortal. Though he seemed to have calmed, a shiver of anticipation ran down his spine. The very thought of curling his hands around Stark's neck seemed so very appealing. Or perhaps he would wrench out his heart, still beating. Surely even in his current state he could rend the man to bits. The mortal eyed the dead-end for a moment before turning slowly, revealing an almost sheepish smile. Clearly things had not gone the way he had expected. 'What a shame, Mister Stark.' The mortal raised his hands, perhaps to show he was unarmed. Really, Loki could have cared less for his defenseless state.

"Hey now Lo—" The god did not let him finish, he would not allow Stark to sully his name further.

Darting forward, he tackled the man, smacking the both of them hard against the wall. For a brief moment, Loki noted that he seemed disoriented. Surprised even. A feeling of satisfaction coiled in his stomach, spreading through his veins. And suddenly his body was lurching forward as the world rumbled in protest.

Perhaps it was age. Maybe it was the growth of Yggdrasil's roots. Possibly it was just fate. But the force of Loki's attack had weakened the aging wall. The stone bricks crumbled. Stark yelped as he fell backward into darkness. Reflexively, his hands shot out, grabbing hold of the god. The force was too much. His body pitched forward, following the Avenger. The darkness was not some secret passage way; the castle had many of course, Loki knew almost every single one from his days as a child. Instead they tumbled forward into nothingness, between the roots of Yggdrasil itself. The dwarves had come across this "hole" during the dungeon's construction. Unable to proceed further without falling into the void, they had simply blocked off the passage. Most who had known had simply forgotten its existence.

Further and further Loki fell. He had lost Stark almost instantly. The darkness of the Abyss had swallowed the mortal whole. A small comfort as he watched that man disappear from sight. He could hear nothing. He could see nothing. Were it not for the silent wind slapping across his body as he fell, the God would have felt as though he were suspended.

It was strange that he should have clarity at that moment. He wondered how quickly they would discover his "escape." Why? Why had it not occurred to him to disappear? It would've been easy to hide in some secret passageway. Surely Stark would've escaped his grasp temporarily but… it could have meant his freedom. Would they find the hole quickly? Would they know what happened? Surely not the finer details, but Stark's presence… and his… it would be missed. He would be missed. How foolish. No better than Thor, single-mindedly pursuing the Jotun, regardless of the cost. Sentiment. It was the disease of many. He had allowed his passion to rule over intelligent thought.

Unable to bear the sight of unending darkness, Loki shut his eyes. Not in acceptance. A death such as this was unsuited to a prince. Instead, he reached deeply inside, clawing at the binds that ensnared his magic. It was there – he felt it when he had blasted down the prison door. It was just behind… a wall, already worn down from his previous actions. Chipped away. Suicidal to force it further, but if he didn't…

Loki felt a strange ripple around his body. Puzzled, the god cracked open his eyes. Light blossomed before him, stinging his eyes. Loki could have laughed. It…this was Midgard. Home of the Mortals. His body hurtled toward the ground.

Author Comments: I know this chapter is shorter than the last. I felt like a chase scene could only go on for so long before it became tedious. It was tempting to continue… but that just didn't flow right.

Review Responses

To Ynath Esrith: Trolololol, then my work here is done. At least for this chapter. I hope, despite hating (mostly) everyone, that it was a good read. :)