Chapter 6

Pitiful, pathetic creatures of self-imposed supremacy. Pretentious, arrogant, weak; the race of Man was, truly, a race of snivelling, cowering cowards. How his brother could protect these beings, love them even, was beyond his knowledge. The race was killing itself; hunger and greed prevalent in the world, the need for a saviour crucial for their redemption.

Made to be ruled, to be subjugated, to be enslaved, humanity screamed at him to be controlled. And who was he to deny them this - their very aura of feebleness enticing conquerors and disaster alike. Brutality, shamelessness, violence, greed, corruption. They were harbingers of their own their impending confrontation with Death. Oh, how he wished he could watch as they brought about their own ruin. But, alas, he had promised to uphold his end of the bargain.

Foolish creatures. They truly believed that they were alone in the universe - that they were the most intelligent beings in all of creation. Oh, how wrong they were. He would show them, he would show them all, how very wrong they were. He would show them and he would bring order to the reckless balance that Midgard precariously sat upon. And he would start by crushing their leaders, subjugating their weakest and slaughtering their strong. Only then would they realise his might, his position of King, and bow to his supremacy. He had been born to rule, after all.

Oh, they would burn. Burn quick and burn deadly. He would crush humanity as his brother watched and then, only after that, would he crush Asgard. Asgard would shake from his power - that foolish, old King would only be able to watch as all that he was was brought down in flames around him.

He was their salvation.

He was their doom.

He was their King.

"I am Loki of Asgard and I am burdened with glorious purpose."

Oh yes, Midgard would be his.


Flames crackling, fire roaring, Fury stood and watched as his best agents disappeared into the night after being reduced to the mantle of playthings by a vengeful God. Shaking himself from his stupor, he spoke into his communication device. "Sound the general call. I want every living soul not working rescue looking for that brief case."

"Roger that." Hill confirmed.

"Coulson, get back to base. This is a Level Seven emergency. As of right now, we are at war." Grimacing, Fury grimly stated the worst scenario SHIELD could've faced.

A beat of silence remained after the grim remark. An overwhelming silence that was soon interrupted by the subdued voice of Coulson. "What do we do, Sir?"

Crossing his arms and mentally calculating his choices, the superspy was an imposing sight to behold; a dark figure enshrouded in shadows, arms crossed and a severe frown disrupting his usual stoic mask, the man was a picture of pure intimidation. Looking up, the man's face cleared as realisation came to him, bringing hope to Fury for the first time in years.

"The Avengers Initiative is a go ahead."


"We need you to come in."

"Are you kidding? I'm working!"

"This takes precedence."

...

"Natasha. Barton's been compromised."

"... Let me put you on hold."


"Sir, an Agent Coulson from SHIELD is on the line."

"I'm not in. I'm actually out."

"Sir, I'm afraid he's insisting."

"Close the line Jarvis. I got a date."

...

"Sir, the telephone. I'm afraid my protocols are being overwritten."

"Stark, we need to talk."

"You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark, please leave a message."

"This is urgent."

"Then leave it urgently."

"Security breach."


"Are you here to kill me, Miss Romanoff? Because that's not gonna work out for everyone."

"No. No. Of course not. I'm here on behalf of SHIELD."

"SHIELD. How did they find me?"

"We never lost you, doctor. We've kept our distance, even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent."

...

"But now I need you to come in."

"What if I said no?"

I'll persuade you."

"And what if the... other guy says no?"


"Sir, all targets have been approached."


Whispering wind, in a semblance of sorrow and love, caressed the figure that sat crossed-legged beneath the canopy of the trees. The hanging of the branches embracing the man lovingly in a cocoon, nature itself seemed to gravitate towards him.

Emerald eyes snapped open as discord and rampant magic unbalanced the precarious scale of stability and harmony in which the Earth had sat herself upon. It seemed as if dark magic and dark thoughts had invaded the sanctity of life and had brought about death and destruction. The existence of harmony was necessary in the world of nature as life would be meaningless and, daresay, impossible without a balance. Black and white, good and evil, balance could not be maintained without the other. The philosophy of Yin and Yang itself, where everything exists with a contradictory opposite that serves to balance the other out, dictates that each side - the Yin and the Yang - has, at its core, the other present; neither side is superior to the other, for harmony only exists with a perfect balance of both sides and so an increase to one side will subsequently bring about a correlating decrease to the other. So when the harmony was disrupted, nature would, first, show signs of an imbalance and would then strive to correct the balance correctly by creating darkness or lightness accordingly. This would happen every so often and would, usually, be corrected by nature itself. However, nature sometimes would struggle to meet an equilibrium should the disturbance be too large, too great, for it to manage. At times like these it would be necessary for Mother Magic to step in and reset the balance. This was such an occasion; it seemed as if something great had disrupted the equilibrium and had tipped the scales in favour of the darkness so influentially that the power of the light could not balance out this new imbalance. The light needed a champion, a saviour to fight for the light amongst the darkness, an individual who could be both dark and light and had obtained the power of both.

He would be the light's champion. He was, after all, the Mother's child and champion who had, already, conquered Death.

He was their last hope; He was his last hope.

He was the Last Wizard and he would save them all.


Dialogue in this chapter is true to the Avengers script. I just borrowed the lines for this chapter, with a few slight differences here and there and the addition of my own lines to glue the story together. Thanks for reading so far!