29. Tick-Tock

. . .

They sang and they screamed and they hummed and they whispered, the countless voices throughout the universe clamoring for their place in the wavestream constructed of all their minds as one, the boundaries between them long dissolved here in the place that was their realm alone. Some died and some lived, and some were born, entering that violent sea of consciousness with their firstborn cry. All of them rushed around him in a bid to be heard. There was nothing but the relentless press of their minds. Eternity and existence all in one.

Loki.

He grasped for purchase at the sound of his name and found his own sense of self lost deeply enough to feel the slender thread slip through him, uncaught. He might have been shrieking in pain. He couldn't know, hoped he wasn't for the sake of his frozen shell still there on Thanos's hellish ship. Voiced sorrows followed hushed joy and he fell between them until there was only the black, and the black, and there was SOMETHING on the other side of a great shield that held silence as its mortar and stone and it hungered. Slavered. Craved. There were screams, unholy, impossible screams as the horror and the void slammed eternally against the Mind's boundaries, and his fragments of self recoiled from that presence as if it burned. It was a war that had been going on for eternities now, the first blow struck only hours hence. No paradox, only the truth of this infinite layer.

LOKI.

He flung out again and this time found his 'hand' gripped by another one, strong, and made of familiar red vibranium skin that felt real enough to cut through the weightless, drifting psychic pressure of infinity itself. Abruptly, the silence of that wall folded around him like a warm and golden cloak. He blinked once as he re-asserted himself, twice, and then-

. . .

"I'm here," Loki said, rasping the words to be heard hopefully by him and the stone alone. His flesh felt burned, the tips of his fingers drenched in raw fire. He could see again, the stone yet in his grasp but control no longer an issue. Not by his will or command, he realized with rueful annoyance, but the stone's. "I... I apologize for the abrupt visitation."

I see it within your thoughts, whispered the stone directly into his brain, still touched with that soft android accent. The effect was unearthly now, almost frightening. Your purpose here. All these souls, lost. I cannot find one alone in the void, Loki. That is my sibling's domain, and it would consume me if such things were wholly possible. As it is, it will consume my anchor, my identity, and leave me only a raw Mind for Thanos to use. I will not have my moralities then. I will lose my Self.

"Hence the shield you've made."

The pressure of that contained mind drifted away for a moment, then returned, chased by a sense of urgency. Do you sense it again now, that armor of mine?

He did, gritting his teeth at the trembling sensation that had begun numbing his hands. It replaced the pain. Regardless of that, he realized that his collision with Vision's defenses had, in fact, weakened the shield slightly. They had been under assault and troubled even before then.

I see clearly it was your hope to not cause that much extra strain – and if such occurred, you would hurry the rest to come as best you may to compensate. I thank you for the consideration. That... would be best. Time, my kin, sleeps. But yet it surges, and it is not my ally here.

"I made a promise, Vision, and I try to not take such things lightly, and so, nor do I make them frequently. I knew the risks. You see my apology but I'll speak it aloud for my own sake. I'm sorry. Now... I hear your warnings. Yet I still have to ask, is there anything that can be done?"

By whom? By you? No. You have made me aware of the deeper situation, and within that is some new knowledge of exactly how my soul-starved sibling has been corrupted to this implicitly dangerous state. Through it I begin to see the rest. By my measure, you have tried. Your promise is held true.

"By you, then?"

All or none must be freed, never alone. Such would also require an assault against my own kind. However, we come to the riddle. I am at risk here, this is known. For I have a soul. But Loki... the Soul itself has a mind long since gone mad with its ravenousness. Thanos feeds it well, and for that it has learned to love him in the same cruel, twisted way he has claimed to love others. We will be in deadlock until one of us shatters the other. This is the riddle of our creation. Fortunate we are the other four still sleep, although they may still be pressed to insensate action. I cannot influence them yet. They will heed a worthy master, and he is very, very close to their dominion. Only I will stand apart, for as long as I can. Did you hear the Soul's screams when you were within? I have become deaf to them. They are a piece of my permanent existence now.

"I heard screams, yes. Little else. I don't have the mind to piece it out as you may, my godlike aspirations aside. Infinity is not for me."

The stone flared into golden light before him as his fingers were released. The pain vanished instantly, replaced with the sense that more time had passed than he realized. The Stone's thoughts echoed in his mind, fading into silence as he pulled further away. That is better. My fight is here, with fire in my hand against the void and its titan pet. I will do what I must. And your fight... yours must take you swiftly from these chambers. He is returning. I can sense his avarice rippling through all things. Go now. And... do hurry...

. . .

Scott popped back up to his full height when he was sure it was only Loki hurrying back into the room, although he stepped back at the drawn, exhausted look on the other man's face. His thumb went back on the shrinkage control but he hesitated. He really didn't want to try body-slamming the guy. It just seemed rude. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to trust my instincts?"

"Please don't." Vertebrae be damned, Loki dropped onto the uncomfortable bench with a wince, passing a hand across his brow as he regathered himself. "It's only me, scars and idiotic plans and all. The stone's defenses yet hold and my mind is somehow still my own, but this will not stand for much longer. What you're seeing writ on my face is about ten minutes worth of intricate invisibility work that I had to weave around me while weaving around and running through about twenty of Thanos's guards. Just to complicate it all for myself further."

"Wears you out?"

"Full and true invisibility, yes. You're manipulating visual, physical, and environmental effects in concert along with some minor planar work... Lesser and illusive-based invisibility? Not so bad if you can manage to either not be walked into or can also play against social norms if you are briefly seen. Wear a good suit, act like you belong, be delighted they've got your brother locked up in a room with a bunch of mirrors you can manipulate at need, the usual. Typically what I prefer. Walked right into a SHIELD facility once in just that way, not that it did me much good in the long run." He flapped a hand, dismissing the memory. "Anyway. I've gone on about that before. I had no choice in this matter, lest I ruin my own game in the scant hours before it resolves. Now I have to quickly regain what energy I can before evening attendance."

There was a line of urgency in Loki's voice. Scott caught it with a wince, sitting down on the bench opposite. "It's time to get to the real work, huh? Glad I already got a nap."

"It is. The stone's shields are weakening, and not all to my doing. The deadline is marked plain to be read. Can you kill the ship's own protections?"

"Oh yeah, no problem. Clog up the overflow programming matrix in a couple different ways, then hit a few overrides in the console network to fubar the energy output. That stuff's weird but I think I got it figured it out. They make the consoles simple so these half dead Sakaraan creeps can use 'em, I'm probably good. And if I somehow frig it up, some of my ants should be able to zap 'em into shorting out. And if that doesn't work, I'll just shrink and expand really quick to blow 'em apart. I triple-planned this one. They're going down. Bonus, they're so powered up now that there's a good chance I'm gonna blow a hole right out of the side of the ship for an extra entry point. People below aren't going to miss that, so, if they don't get the other hints, we're still good."

"Well, don't explode yourself out into the sky with it!" Loki's hand dropped while he looked at Scott with more than a little worry, not as convinced of the man's forward planning. "You've got a copy of the interior map to circulate. The arrivals are going to need that information."

Scott shrugged, unconcerned. "There'll be enough of a delay to get me clear. When do you want me to do it?"

"Wait five minutes after I've departed this room before you begin your travel. From there, another ten. Then do what you can. I'll be by his side then, fully distanced from the accident." Loki emphasized the word dryly. "He might not buy that ruse for terribly long, but the invasion will take his notice by then." He sighed, sliding down to the ground instead in the vague hope that the bench would make an acceptable backstop for a quick rest. He shifted, not really sold on the outcome of his decision and vaguely wishing he had something caffeinated instead. "I hope."

"There any ways this can go wrong?"

Loki laughed abruptly, low and genuine. "At least a thousand of them. Toss me a cushion, if you would."

. . .

Death sat, calm and still at the white cast-iron table in Strange's lawn. Her hands were folded on her lap under the hem of the long cowl around her face and she looked up utterly unsurprised at the figure who marched her way across the green towards her. "Your name is Nebula," she said with a slight tilt of her head. A thin trail of steam rose from the pretty red teapot before her. "I've been expecting you."

"I'll try to not take that like a threat." Nebula gestured at her with the thin knife in her hand, checking the bone china cups on the table to be sure nothing was hidden in them. "Any cute little tricks I need to watch out for?"

"Strange's assistant is within the house. I've asked him to not interfere. I will ask you – politely – to leave him be. He has no part to play in what must be between us and I do not want the offering of his life. Hear me better than the warlord does. For what it's worth, I take more confidence in your intelligence." Death gestured at the chair vacated not long ago by the sorcerer, smiling faintly when Nebula didn't take it. "As for Strange himself, I have no doubt he expected something like this when I ordered him to leave me. He will also abide by my word, though I suppose it would be fair to tell you that your actions are already known beyond this space."

"Neat. Am I going to have to drag you out of that chair?"

"No, but you're going to have to join me for a cup of tea. I haven't had my fill of freedom just yet. And I assure you, you've no choice but to humor me."

"I hear you're pretty much just a human right now." Nebula's other hand dipped behind her back, came up with a coil of deceptively thin rope. She waggled it. "Might not be in the best place to broker your idea of a deal."

Death lifted a single finger with a whisper, visibly amused as the blue woman dropped a rope that was now on fire despite its synthetic manufacture. "Don't be rude. You're getting what you want, and with far less effort than the last fool that tried to kidnap and imprison me. It however requires taking my last request, so to speak." A snap of her fingers and the fire went out before it did more than brown a few blades of grass. "There are benefits from spending this mortal time among sorcerers. Such as my opportunity to casually mention the fact that we are otherwise unobserved right now. Your... noble host has no eye here. Sit, please."

Nebula nudged the blackened fibers with the toe of her boot, pissed off but not frightened. She dropped into the lawn chair, the knife in her hand tapping a soft staccato rhythm against its glass top. "That's a cute trick you've picked up. You do the one with the cards, too? I've seen that one."

Graceful hands picked up the red pot instead of rising to the bait, pouring one cup and then the other. Death slid one across to the blue woman with another polite tilt of her chin. She smiled easily, the expression reflecting and twisting across the surface of the hot tea in the cup into a frown. "Let's talk for a few moments while we drink. About... subverting expectations. Yes, I think that's a good place to start before I get to the point. That will give our tea time to cool."

Tap. Tap. Tap. "Okay, what?"

"Mmm. I have a few different things in mind than what nonsense you arrived with. Don't worry, I'll not dither overmuch." The smile broadened, crinkling the coppery-brown skin along the girl's cheeks at the frustration in Nebula's eyes. "Oh, let's not play at shadows, Nebula. We both know you're smart enough to not trust Doom any further than you can toss that castle of his. You're looking for... let's say, other options with which to buy your lasting freedom. I just so happen to have come up with a wrinkle or two. Barely any visible change to your current plans. Subtlety, I think, is a fine skill."

Tap. Tap. Nebula pursed her lips as she stared at the immortal incarnation sitting calmly across from her. A moment later, she set the knife down next to the cup she'd been given. "Alright, stepmom. You've got my attention for the next two minutes."

Death lifted both saucer and then cup to blow across the liquid's surface, frowning a little at the impertinence. "Let's do all existence a favor first. I suggest you don't ever call me that again."