Chapter 4

I felt arms carrying me out of the jet, into the sunlight, the air was cool. The light was bright and painful as I opened my eyes. I recognized this place. I've been here before, but not this building. Confusion was the prevailing feeling, disorientation next. After some minutes I was placed onto a soft surface, a bed. I looked up. Loki was pulling himself away from me. I attempted, clumsily, to grasp his hand.

He looked at me, what a horrifying mess I must have appeared to him, but he did not cringe or wrinkle his nose at me. A smile appeared on his face. It wasn't warm like I had hoped, but one full of knowledge, what ever his plans were, they had now come to life.

"Rest, now. You have had a trying day. Once I have taken this city, this planet will fall before me."

He was so foreign to me. He was planning to take over, I suppose I had missed that part of his tale. Those eyes of his, I thought they were suppose to be green, but they were glowing bright blue. I wasn't gazing into his eyes, I was looking into something else, some other world horror. Where was my Loki?

"You," he continue watching me with those haunting eyes. "Willow, must stay here. You have thoroughly impressed me. I will keep you safe and near me." He moved towards the door. "Stay in here, away from the glass. They will come, but they do not know you are here."

Who was "they"? What did he mean? Would he not stay with me? Kiss me, I begged in my head, but he was not in it to hear my plea. As I reached my hand out, I noticed my condition. I gazed down at myself on the bed. I could see that my leg had been bandaged and the pants cut to the knee. I could feel that a bandage was secured around my matted hair. Balm had been applied to smaller cuts on my arm. My stomach was settled for the time being, medicine, I suppose, had been administered to me while I slept on the jet.

Loki spoke once more. "I must go, my dear. They are coming, the time has begun. It will be loud, I am sure, but try to rest." He paused, with his pale hand upon the door frame, he glanced back at me over his shoulder. "Rest, you will need it."

I nodded weakly. It pained me to watch him go. He shut the door to the room, cutting off the little pouring in from the windows outside. I was resting in Stark tower, laying in a bed that belonged to someone else. On what floor of the building I was now on, I could not guess, but I knew was very near the top.

In the my silent solitude, I glanced around the room. It was furnished with fine furniture. The room was furnished in minimalist style. There was a sense of coldness to the room. Two lamps sat on either side of the bed. I had knocked one over attempting to turn it on. Despite my exhaustion, my part in this tale was far from over. I hobbled over to a narrow door and opened it. Inside were clothes, simple, but sufficient. Reaching into the closet, I removed a pair of grey pants from a hanger. I held them up to my waist, close enough. I don't know who they belonged to, if anyone, or if they were just meant to fill space in the event that someone would stay in that room.

I removed my dirty pants and tore off my top, what was left of it anyway. My clothes lay in a heap next to the closet, the belt I had worn with my uniform was now buried beneath the torn wreckage. Where were the shirts? Oddly enough, there were none in the closet. I moved to the smooth drawers near the bed and a door leading to what I assumed was a bathroom. A sweater was folded at the top of one of the drawers. I pulled the fabric from the drawer, it was made with cotton, and was very soft. The sweater was a light green color, more closely resembling a pastel shade. I pulled it over my head and adjusted my clothing. Not a perfect fit, but it seemed to be the only thing at my disposal. I noticed then that my boots were missing, I think the man addressing my wounds had removed them.

No shoes, oh well. I glanced around the room once more. I was too tired to focus on anything, so I returned to the bed. It seemed like I was asleep for only a few seconds when I heard the sound of glass shattering. I leapt from the bed and pulled open the door to the outside world, at least what lay outside the room I was in, despite Loki's instructions to stay in my sanctuary.

I ran past the furniture in the room, trying to ignore the delightful feeling my feet received as I ran across over the carpet. I looked out the massive window; the cityscape of New York City unfurled itself before my eyes. The afternoon sun burned with rage, as if it knew what was about to take place.

I tried to gazed down from where I stood, but the angle of the window prevented me from seeing what lay below. What fell from the window and subsequently shattered the glass had plummeted to the ground. Then, a figure in red zoomed up from the ground below and was now hovering two floors above where I stood. It was Iron Man. He lifted his hand up, ready to release a blast of energy that for some would have deadly consequences. My mind raced furiously. Who was he about to hit? Then, he shot, the blast erupted from his armored hand and hit his target.

Loki! I rushed from the window and stumbled over a chair. For the brief few seconds I was on the floor I caught a strange sound I had not heard before. Or noticed? The deep, guttural groan of a machine so different and powerful from anything else that I had ever before heard. It seemed to penetrate high above me. I was filled with fear. What was Loki doing? Slowly, I began crawling across the floor, the feeling that somehow the ceiling would collapse on top of me was over whelming.

Thunderous blasts echo from outside. Iron Man was fighting something. Sensations I had never felt before where descending upon me like a typhoon. Machines had categories, but many were very similar: all laptops sounded the same to me, but super computers exerted a hum of a more aggressive range. Smart phones hummed like a mouse might squeak, while cameras, security cameras to be specific, produced a mellow drone. The most impressive hum belonged to the human brain which sounded like layers and layers of hums flowing together like clockwork, creating a picture, so to speak, of patterns and rhythms I found very difficult to decipher. But what I heard now was so different, like white noise competing with a war drum; a pounding in the darkness of a starless night: do direction, no path, no pattern. It was ominous and created by something completely unknown to this world, something that heard what I could hear. What ever created these sounds understood the hums, their purpose, their importance.

If this was what Loki was working with, I feared greatly for him. My encounters with his scepter should have told me as much. Was I not paying attention? Perhaps, I was not. Truthfully, I wasn't listening for this, I had not anticipated this, for none were quite like me, at least to my knowledge. But now, I had to face the reality of what I was hearing. The driving force behind Loki's attack had a concise understanding of these mechanical hums, these spikes on a switchboard of vast knowledge. What ever was pushing Loki, driving him in this lucrative quest, understood the inner workings of what I could barely understand.

A calm sense of understanding passed over me and I ceased my crawling. I sat on my knees, feeling the softness of the cream colored carpet. I was near the bedroom door, only part of the interior was visible to me. I now knew that Loki was part of the equation. My connection to him was cemented, my duty was to protect him, but he was the path to something more.

How is it that I am the one chosen to unmask this manipulator of electricity? I'm not a strong mutant. In truth, I am perhaps one of the weakest. I was never much use to the X-Men. What would my talents have done in a battle? A battle rages outside this tower, but I am sitting safely on a lushly carpeted floor, contemplating my role in Loki's conquest and life in general.

Explosions sounded outside. It was a repeated, pattern less staccato boom. I turned my head, to see what was making the sounds outside the massive window. It was something out of a science fiction novel. Miniature ships, hovercrafts, flew through the air at such an alarming speed that I could only observe a dark gold, bronze colored blur.

I scrambled to my feet, the wound in my leg throbbed from the abuse it suffered when I fell. I needed to get back to the bedroom, find my belt, what little help I could offer lay with a dual connection ear piece that would reunite me with S.H.I.E.L.D. What would I say to them? That I had willing run off with Loki? That I had persuaded an agent to let us go? That I saved his life? None of it mattered, I had to do something. Surely, the Avengers would not have abandoned Iron Man to fight these invaders alone!

Finally, I reached the heap of tattered clothing I had discarded. My belt, was exactly where I had left it, sat before me as a taunting reminder that I should have tried to contact S.H.I.E.L.D. the moment I gained some control of myself. I laid the belt across my lap and lifted the cover of a small pouch attached. My fingers sought out my prize, but instead of finding my only communication to my employers, my fingers latched onto a folded piece of paper and crushed debris of plastic and wire. I dumped the debris into my hand and stared in bewilderment and frustration. Loki. He had to have done this. The ear piece was destroyed, gone completely, as if hammering it once, twice, and even three times was not sufficient enough to destroy it.

Realizing that there was nothing I could with the bits of wire and plastic, I dropped it onto the floor, Stark had more important business to worry about than weather I had purposely soiled his carpet. The paper, however, I began unfolding. The paper wasn't big, just half a sheet, enough to fit compactly and unnoticed in the pouch. Upon the sheet was a curious message. The flowing curves of sophisticated penmanship was gloatingly presented to me. I read:

"Forgive me, but I cannot have you making trouble for me. Have patience, my dear. There are many ways around the world. Look to the north to find your way back to me. What you need to accomplish this task is there. Bring the scepter with you. The thread that binds us will never be severed. - Loki"

I read the note again and again and yet, again. There was nothing, no hint of understanding a hidden message within his words, no clue to deciphering the message. He destroyed my only form of communication with S.H.I.E.L.D. to kept me out of his way. "Many ways around the world" I knew this, he needn't tell me this. What is it that I need? Where am I going? Why? Where is he going? He already has the scepter!

I could ponder the meaning of his note for hours, but I knew I would never understand it. War was now raging outside of my sanctuary. This would end with one of two outcomes: Loki would win and the world would enter into darkness; or the Avengers would win and Loki would die. No. He would be put on trial, Thor would never let him die. I could live with him in prison, but not dead. The thought broke my heart, but Loki had to lose, and then I would have to solve the mystery of this note.

A/N Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please review. I haven't received any comments on the previous three chapters. Tell me something. For example you can say : Good job! This sucks! Loki is so awesome. K.M. Benidir2012, you smell funny.

Thanks for reading :)