Child of Thanos: Part Three: Escape and Rescued...sort of...

I am not prone to either claustrophobia or agoraphobia, but I would by lying if I said that being trapped in that tiny space didn't have any ill effect on me. It was the "stillness" which bothered me the most. No breezes, no echoes, no temperature; that is to say I felt neither uncomfortably hot or cold. It just was. That lack of sensory feedback must be how Tina feels, wrapped up in one of her metal and plastic Aspects. It might work for her, but as for me, who relies heavily on his senses, the deficiency in information was unnerving. I kept imagining that there was someone or something creeping up behind me, and with free space being so limited I couldn't turn around in time to defend myself. In the corner of my eye, I kept catching my own reflection moving, making myself flinch as though there was some monster caught in the metal. The sound of the blood pumping in my ears was like feet pounding along the tunnel.

If there was someone else trapped in there, then I had no intention of being around long enough to meet them.

I was lying on my back (sitting up was no longer an option as my neck was now painfully sore from being bent for so long) and with one hand reaching half-way up the wall, was laboriously picking apart the mesh of rune-marks and spells. Or at least, trying to.

Imagine trying to scratch your way out of a box made of diamond locks. Not the easiest of tasks.

But, that was the whole point of getting the Incantation-Fetters to do the work in the first place – nobody would want the magic to unravel while in mid-journey, or for it to fade away every few years or so. When an IF binds a spell into a place, it is done with the expectation that it will last for all eternity.

I was hoping that those expectations had been severely misplaced, otherwise I would have to resort to dark magic.

Beneath my hand the rune-marks glowed brightly and solidly – no obvious weak points to be seen. I'd tried pinning one down with the point of my dagger, jiggling the blade. The rune-mark hummed and buzzed, but remained firmly in place. And it yet it gave me hope that I was on the right track. I tried again, this time summoning a small tendril of electricity to run down the blade and into the rune-mark.

What? You didn't know that I can what you can do...more or less?

Well, I can. I just don't use it that often.

Anyway, once again the rune-mark began to hum, only this time at a higher frequency, and the more energy I pushed into it, the more it began to vibrate. I kept it up, and soon the rune-mark was jumping about in its place, sending a shower of tiny golden sparks arching into the tunnel. With a final push of magic the rune-mark burst apart, like a popped soap bubble, in a haze of golden magic. Perhaps being on the inside of spell made all the difference. It was weaker on the inside.

I used my sleeve to wipe the sweat off my forehead.

That was one rune-mark down; I'd only have to destroy about another hundred or so before I could break free...at least that was my estimation.

So, that is what I did. One rune-mark at a time. I can't tell you how long it took me; it is impossible to say. Sometimes I slept a little, but mostly I worked without stopping. It was a race against time as I grew increasingly hungry and thirsty...and as the hallucinations became ever more disturbing and violent.

Yes, who would have thought that being trapped in a narrow tunnel would not be conducive to good mental health?

I'll only touch upon this briefly as I don't wish to talk about it. At first I would only hear the occasion whisper; and after that some of my reflections would make unhelpful remarks and the odd rude gesture. Then, a few destroyed rune-marks later (perhaps whole days had passed), the hallucinations transcended from the auditory to the visual – mostly rats, but they never touched me. It's what came after that still makes me shudder and still gives me nightmares. I'll just refer to to it as Him. He appeared at least once every two destroyed rune-marks...I think? He was not friendly or benign...and that's all I have to say about Him.

You don't need to hold my shoulder, Thor.

Needless to say the hallucinations only increased my motivation for escaping as quickly as possible and I worked all the faster for it, even forgoing sleep. In hindsight, the sleep deprivation only made the delusions ever more sinister, but I was not aware of this. I just knew that I wanted to get out with as few as visitations from Him as possible.

Finally, after who-knows-how-long, I had ripped out enough rune-marks from the fabric of the spell to create cracks in the wall of the tunnel. Anyone else in my position might have wept with relief. But not me.

The cracks were as thin as the threads that make up a gossamer. A sweet light blue energy glowed through them. For me they were a symbol of hope, the light at the end of the tunnel, as it were. All I needed to do was to pour as much of my magical energy into the cracks as possible, overwhelming the net of rune-marks and then glorious freedom would be mine.

I pressed my finger to one of the cracks and allowed my magic to flow through me into the gap. It was enough to wake up Him. I could hear Him scuttling and scraping down the tunnel, slowly and surely, breathing heavily.

Not again. I had to get escape. Now.

I was almost completely drained of magic.

The crack slowly widened, and all around me the tunnel had become ablaze with the spicy, fiery, golden light of the rune-marks as they shone and buzzed angrily in protest. The noise was deafening, the light overwhelming, but behind it all I could sense Him still coming closer and closer, reaching out for me...

I pushed harder, summoning every last drop of magic from my veins. The fissure grew larger, splitting apart the ceiling from the walls with a mournful groan. I shoved one arm through and then the other, pushing the sides apart with all my might. I felt like fire and ice as the spell fought back to maintain itself.

Him placed a hand over my mouth. I was done to my last drops of magic. Time had run out for me.

With a scream and a final burst of power, I gave one final push. At first there was nothing, but then the spell and the mesh of rune-marks suddenly burst apart like a firework. Rune-marks up and down the golden tunnel exploded, one by one, the net unravelling like a woollen jumper. I was consumed by the blue light as the tunnel shimmered and melted all around me...

Once again, there was darkness. Once again, I was falling. Only this time I was smiling, the wonderful taste of victory filling my mouth. I had achieved the impossible. Or at least proved what was once thought to be impossible possible. And then I remembered that I had no idea where I was falling to.

Wonderful.

I dreamt of Asgard on fire. I dreamt of you, and of Frigga and Odin, flashes of faces rushing across my mind's eye.

The noise of a hollow explosion, like a giant ball of ice cracking into two pieces, from somewhere close by tore me from my sleep. I lay on my back gasping for air. Above me, the sky was a churning mess of the duller colours: browns and blacks and grey, all mixed in with a rusty red. And at its very centre, looking cold and indifferent, sat a blood red sun.

I knew those colours and understood their flavours, I had tasted them so many times before. I recognised the odours – ashes, and burning timbres, mixed in with burnt flesh – as they danced on my tongue. This was war. This was a world in chaos, on the brink of tearing itself asunder.

Another explosion. Closer than before, more solid and much nastier.

I hauled myself to my feet, feeling dizzy and unsteady. I lent against the trunk of a withered tree as I took in the environment. I was in a vast field, an endless sea of coarse grass. In the distance there was a city ablaze, with gigantic rolls of black smoke lazily floating up into the sky.

There was no sign of the Observatory. Not that I had fully expected to find any physical wreckage given that I had seen it being ground down in golden dust. A shudder ran down my spine. Everything that had happened back home now felt like a lifetime ago.

As I stared at the burning city the truth hit me full in the face: I had lost. I was lost. And I had lost everything. Family, home, title, privileges, reputation...no friends to speak of in the first place...It had all been stolen away from me by you and Odin.

I sensed a presence behind me. I whipped around to see a boy with stumpy looking antlers on top of his head – probably of teenage years – was trying to creep up on me. He was holding a knackered looking gun in his trembling hands and pointing it at me with an unsure look on his face.

"Who are you? Are you one of us or one of them?" the boy demanded.

"One of you," I replied without missing a beat. "Now let's stop wasting time with this inane chatter. Tell what I've missed!"

I could see that he was young, inexperienced, naïve, not a professional soldier or warrior, but above all other things, frightened. I knew that his world was at war, but I still required details. Thankfully for me, I could also see that he was type to blindly follow whoever displayed enough authority without checking their credentials. He would be clay in my hands.

He shook as he spoke, voice shrill. "Sir, I've lost contact with the others! No one is responding. I think they're all gone, Sir, they're gone! And, Holo have mercy on me, but I ran away. I ran away as fast as I could."

He really was just a child forced to fight for his life. He wasn't meant to be on the battlefield. I had to wonder though, you and I were both sent to war for the first time around his age – were we ever so scared? I can't remember. Although, we were so carefully protected I doubt that we were ever in any real danger.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Tri of the Second Forest Tribe, Sir...no family name because...they're all gone too..."

"You may call me Loki...of the City..." That had been a guess, but since Tri didn't dispute it I assume that it had the right thing to say. "No family name either. Now, chin up. You stick with me and we can escape this place together."

He suddenly looked defiant.

"We can't leave, Sir. Loki! We can't!"

I took a step closer to him, towering over him.

"Now you listen to me," I said in my softest voice. "Do you have any idea what we're dealing with?"

I hoped he did.

He wavered. "No."

"Well, I do."

I didn't.

"What they'll do to us, if they find us, will be ten times more horrible, more painful, than what happened to your family. Everybody else is gone. We have to abandon the planet. Do you know where we can find a ship?"

He nodded, eyes watery.

"Then lead on."

I followed Tri to the other side of the field, carrying the ancient gun, but without having much faith that it would do any good should I have need of it. There was even a bit of sticking tape wrapped around a crack in the handle. Still, though, given that I hadn't eaten or drunk anything in days, and my magic was down to the very drags it was better than nothing.

We only got as far as the rotting fence before our luck ran out. Or perhaps Tri's so-far good luck (as foolish as he was, he had survived longer than the others) was cancelled out by my own misfortune. I do seem to attract an awful lot of bad luck. More than my fair share.

And I'm not saying that I feel guilty for what happened to Tri. It wasn't my fault.

I failed to notice them sneaking up on us, sensing them only when it was too late to escape. They attacked so quickly and efficiently, a good show of teamwork. I myself had never been much of team player, always preferring to work alone, but I know a strong team when I see it.

I felt something rushing up behind me. I turned and caught it in my hand. A three-pronged spear. Nasty looking, but beautiful in its potential for causing chaos. I wanted it. Well, you know, finders-keepers.

I tossed the gun back to Tri, just in time as I was set upon by a man with a glaive. You've seen me fight, seen me defending myself with nothing but my dagger and my wits against numerous enemies. I may not be as strong as you, but you also know that I am a good warrior. But, I couldn't land a single blow against the glaive man. I could in true Aesir style boast of my efforts, exaggerate my skills and talents, or just plain lie about how many enemies I was facing at the time, but I won't. The truth was that he was faster, stronger, more agile, more aggressive, and talented than me. Yes, maybe being so physically weak had something to do with it, but I'm not so sure. All I could do was defend myself with the spear, being slowly pushed back towards the fence all the time. It was incredible. He was incredible.

Speaking of the spear, it was behaving very oddly. I could feel it pulling in my hands, trying to escape my grip, but I refused to let go. There was no time to think about it as my attention was fully occupied.

He swung the glaive towards me. I parried, side-stepped, parried again. Dodge, dodge, defend. It was all I could do.

He repeated his attack. The blade flashed red in the light, and it's tip caught my forearm. It stung more than a little. You can still see the scar, look. If I hadn't stepped back when I did, I wouldn't be playing the piano now.

In my peripheral vision I could see the shadowy outline of four other people. Tri was with them, held in the arms of the largest and bulkiest of the figures. He really hadn't been much use, captured almost as soon as the fight had begun. He had even given up struggling and was just hanging there, like a wet jumper on a clothes line.

Thankfully for me, Glaive Man's friends didn't seem to be at all inclined to help him, not that he needed it.

"Let him have his fun," I heard one of them say. A female voice.

The spear had stopped struggling in my hands, making things a fraction easier for me. But not much. Not enough. I was quickly growing tired, my movements becoming sluggish.

"You put up a good fight," Glaive Man hissed. "No one else has lasted this long."

"Thank you," I replied.

I know, I know, it was hardly the snappiest of replies. Even telling him to f-off would have been better than meekly thanking him for his weak, slightly snarky compliment. But, I was exhausted and losing blood, as well as strongly suspecting that I was about to be killed where I stood. My brain was not working at full capacity.

A second later and I had been knocked off my feet, landing heavily on my back. The spear vibrated violently in my hands, before pulling away and flying back to whoever had thrown it. I was convinced that I was about to die. But then again I had been 100% certain that Old Voidy would destroy me and that hadn't worked out. It occurred to me that Father might just be proud of me if he knew I had died fighting. Pathetic, isn't it? Even after I had tried to kill myself I still found myself wistfully hoping for Odin's approval.

"Don't let me down!" I told Glaive Man, as he stood poised above me, ready to plunge the glaive into my heart. "Do the deed properly."

He narrowed his sharp eyes at me, looking slightly confused.

"You wish to die?" Apparently, he was more used to people begging for their lives rather than death.

I shrugged. "The desire waxes and wanes. Right now, I believe that death would be a kindness. I've nothing worth living for. But, in two minutes I may desperately wish to live for another thousands years, so, come on, get on with it!"

Much to my annoyance he did not follow my order, but instead he dragged me back across the field to where the others were waiting. He threw me to my knees, my tangled hair flopping over my eyes.

"This one is interesting," he said. "He's clearly not of this world. Too good at fighting for that."

Looking out from under my hair, I took a closer look at the group.

You know the human phrase: never judge a book by it's cover?

I've never agreed with that phrase. Appearances can be deceptive, of course (shape-shifters know this better than anyone else), but the value of first impressions and gut instinct should never be underestimated. Besides, there is the other phrase: never smile at a crocodile. This one is much more sensible. If I see a crocodile grinning at me, I'm not going to marvel at its friendliness and go over to shake its paw...except that is what I sort-of did...

There were five of them, all looking like they had been carved out of a nightmare. Three males and two females; all psychotic in their desire for carrying out their mission. There was absolutely nothing pleasant or trustworthy about their appearance and demeanour. My kind of people.

This, Thor, was the galaxy's most feared and hated group of people to ever travel among its stars: the Black Order.

"Cull, bring the other one here," Glaive Man demanded.

Cull looks like the Hulk's evil twin, if that is any kind of description. Vast, bulky, reptilian, and as dumb as he is strong. He is the only member of the group who is unable to speak in anything beyond grunts, growls, and roars. At least he was fun to play with.

He dropped Tri down beside me. He was shaking from his toes to the top of his antlers. I tried to send him some comfort.

[Don't be afraid, Tri. Just leave the talking to me, okay? I know I can get us out of this mess.]

I didn't, but I can't stand the sight of people snivelling. Tri looked a little shocked to hear my voice inside his head, but he also seemed to trust me implicitly, despite having just met me and watching me getting my arse handed to me. It must be my confident aura.

One of the males stepped forward. He was ugly and nose-less, thinner and smaller than the others, but no less intimidating. I felt the hairs on the nape of my neck stand up on end. This guy was the one to fear, I realised. He may look frail when compared to the others, but he was clearly hiding some great intelligence and dark power. This was the biggest crocodile of them all and the one with the toothiest grin.

Ugly raised his hand. No, perhaps it is unfair to call him ugly. To be honest, he was quite handsome in a repulsive sort-of way, looking like the grey lint that accumulates down the backs of sofas and in pockets. Or a dead fish. A bit of both. I will continue to call him Ugly.

"Rejoice!" he cried in a reedy voice. "For soon you shall become true children of Thanos! Your sacrifice for the greater good shall not be in vain!"

Thanos...Thanos...it was the first time I had heard the name, and even then it sent a chill running down my spine. I knew it meant something terrible, I could feel it. And yet I couldn't properly understand it. It was like...death, but also love? Love and death mixed together. We've both lived so long that we know how easily and often the two go together. Except that this was the bad kind of love, which is not really love at all.

"Through Thanos the whole universe shall be restored to perfect balance! None shall stand in his way!"

I should tell you that the Black Order was also known as the Children of Thanos, Thanos' Generals, or Thanos' Death Squad. Cheery names,but perfectly suited to them.

So, who is Thanos? I can see that you're itching to know; clearly, his name has had the same impact on you as it did me. Anyway, I'll explain who he is in good time. At this point in the story I didn't know myself, but I was intrigued. I assumed that he must be a god, but even that didn't make sense. We knew all the gods, didn't we? Unless this guy was muscling in from another galaxy, which is just plain rude.

The ugly one pointed a long, grey finger at Tri. "How do you wish to die?"

Tri was understandably distressed by this question.

"Die? We're the last ones!" Tri screeched. "We don't deserve to die!"

I saw the dark haired woman raise the spear in her hands, pointing it directly at Tri's head. I shuffled sideways away from him, distancing myself from him. I wasn't witnessing a display of bravery, but of insanity. He had lost everything, including his reason. There was nothing that could be done, expect to avoid his fate. As I had warned Glaive Man, my desire for annihilation had already passed, shoved aside by my curiosity to find out more about this Thanos and why his devoted followers had invaded a planet.

"You should spare us!" Tri went on, completely oblivious to the danger he was putting us both in. "It would be the honourable thing to do!"

Honour? These people? A low chuckle escaped my lips. Obviously they had no honour. Not even Edgar Allan Poe could have conjured up these evil people for one of his stories. Spear Woman tilted her head at me, confused by my reaction. Thankfully, the others ignored me.

"Your people were given a fair choice," Ugly-Most-Foul said in a voice so soft and slightly wet that it slipped off his tongue like a lump of green phlegm. "Give us a tribute or all be slaughtered. Your leaders chose slaughter."

Oh, good, I thought, they're basically Aesir. Just can't get away. I had images of them charging from planet to planet, plundering and killing just for the sheer hell of it.

"But be at peace for in death you shall become a child of Thanos."

I rolled my eyes. I was already tired of the preaching. Unfortunately for me I was destined to hear a whole lot more before my return to Asgard.

Tri was looking at me with wide-eyed panic.

"Say something!" he hissed at me.

I wondered what he meant at first and then I remembered that only a short time ago I had told him that I would work my silver-tongue in our favour. Oops. It probably wouldn't work, but may as well try it.

"If we are to become children of Thanos, then why don't you tell us all about him?" I asked, smiling sweetly. "We want to hear everything to make our deaths worthwhile."

Ugly looked ready to oblige, hands raised up in front of him, however, at this point Tri's fear overrode the logical part of his brain.

"But we don't want to die!" Tri yelled in a strangled voice. "I don't care about Thanos!"

He must have thought that I would simply try to persuade them that it would be wrong to murder us, but it's never that straightforward. In a situation like this you have to convince the enemy that keeping you alive would be in their best interest or that you are on their side. Forget about morals. These people had killed so many, why would they suddenly care about right or wrong?

[Calm down!] I ordered.

"Tell them that they're not allowed to kill us! Tell them that you're injured and I'm only just turned eighteen! It goes against the rules! Tell them!"

I shook my head silently at him, bidding him to shut up. Our captors had shifted into attack positions, antagonised by Tri's outburst and ready to strike at any moment.

"I don't care about Thanos!" Tri screamed. "I hate Than-UGH!"

His body fell lifeless to the ground with a heavy thump. I stared blankly at his corpse. There was an electric blue blade of pure energy sticking out of his chest. It flicked before fading away.

One of the women – blue skin, white hooded-cloak – dropped her hand back to her side.

Ugly smiled at her. "Thank you, Supergiant. He was becoming most insufferable."

I glanced at Tri again and then I did something strange. I yawned, a wide-open yawn. It wasn't deliberate; I just couldn't help it. I wasn't feeling tired or bored (impossible in this situation)...it just sort of happened...

This, of course, did nothing to calm the situation down. They turned their weapons on me. I yawned again.

"Are we boring you?" Supergiant demanded. "We just slaughtered your little friend right in front of you!"

"No, you're not boring me," I said, truthfully. "No, he wasn't my friend. And, yes, you did slaughter him right in front of me. Thank you for stating the obvious."

I know I was being reckless, but I couldn't stop myself.

"And how would you like to die?" Ugly asked, rather coldly. "For the glory of Thanos, or against him? Choose wisely."

So I did.

Eventually, I said, "For the glory of Thanos, naturally. But, I would like to do so in the arms of Dionysus, Greek god of wine, theatre, parties, altered states and sex. That way I could go out drunk, high, entertained, and knowing that I am undone in every sense of the word...He's on Olympus if you want to contact him."

I stared hard at the charred grass before me, bracing myself for death. This time I was really, really, sure that I was about to die. But instead of hearing the whistle of a weapon being chucked at my head, I heard a strange, disconcerting sound. Laughter.

I chanced looking up.

"I like this one," said Spear Lady. "He's strong and funny."

Glaive Man nodded. "He told me he has nothing to live for."

The one called Supergiant floated next to them. She looked at me with empty blue eyes that tasted like sharp berries.

"He reminds me of how I used to be," she said in a whispery voice. "Lost, alone, desperate, despairing...We could make use of him, fill him with new purpose - our glorious purpose. We'll take him to the Sanctuary."

Sanctuary...that sounded nice, but something told me that it wouldn't live up to expectations.

With the exception of Cull, who never took his little eyes off me, the four of them stood in a circle, conversing silently with one another. It was obvious what they were discussing. I did my best to keep my face neutral, as though I wasn't one for much thinking or scheming.

Finally, Ugly turned to me to ask, "Do you accept our glorious mission, and to serve the mighty Thanos? We can teach you all about him. Give you a new home, purpose, and family."

These people were psychopaths...and yet there was something appealing about the offer of a new family.

"What mission?" I asked.

Ugly smiled at me. He really shouldn't do that when trying to attract people to his cause. "To save the universe," he said, proudly. The others looked proud too. I'd no idea that the universe was in need of saving.

Oh, of course, I thought to myself, because if you slaughter children then obviously it is about saving the universe.

As I said, these people were nutcases. And only an insane idiot would willingly go with them.

I swept my gaze over them all, weighing them up, taking in every scrap of information I could deduce about them.

I felt the fury and rage slowly bubbling up in my blood. I knew what they wanted, to use me for their own purpose just as Odin had done. Well, those days of being used were behind me. Heaven help anyone who tries to use me.

I would spread such chaos among them, I decided, tear their little group apart.

I allowed my gaze to rest on Supergiant for a second longer than the others. She had already said too much in front of me: lost, alone, desperate, despairing...Emotionally she was the weakest and so would be the first to go, I decided.

I looked over the rest of the group. Tight-knit, no obvious weaknesses, apart from the big guy – Cull - standing a little apart from the others, little intelligence in his eyes and clearly not valued...yes, I could use him...

In time they would learn the rules that so many fools have only learnt when it was too late for them: that if you value your lives just as they are and have no wish for change, then never invite a Trickster into your home. Never say anything in front of them because they will only use that information against you. And, most of all, if you come across a Trickster who is angry and with nothing left to lose and you've just killed a teenager in front of him, then whatever you do, if you wish to succeed in your mission, then do not tell him that you did it in the name of Order because he is an agent of Chaos and will bring your ordered world crashing down on your head just to prove you foolish and insignificant.

I smiled my brightest smile at Ugly.

"It would be my absolute pleasure," I told him. "I accept."

"And what is your name?"

"Logi the Wildfire," I said, conjuring flames into my hands just to illustrate my point. It wasn't the biggest whopper I've ever told. The humans are forever mixing us up and truthfully I am skilled in creating and controlling fire when I want to. But mostly I blame Wagner for this case of mistaken identity. Besides, I was not stupid enough to give them my real name. Unlike them I know never to trust others.

They led me away to their funny looking ship and we took off immediately, leaving the tiny Planetoid Who-Cares behind, burning and dying for no good reason.

Actually, I haven't been completely honest. Yes, I had been telling the truth when I said that I intended to tear their world apart, but I barely left my mark. And I would regret going with them. Sorry. I wish I had been able to destroy them, but at least I had some fun in process.

Anyway, as I said before, this was war. And in my mind the war would end with me being the victor. I was sure of it.

This was going to be so much fun.

AN: Thank you for reading.