PROLOGUE
Everything hurt. The damage the green beast had done was likely severe, and Loki's skull pounded horridly. He could barely focus – he had used up almost all of his barely functioning magic in the battle, and he could feel the sputtering remains working valiantly to keep him conscious.
He was confused – utterly and completely befuddled. Somewhere in the back of his mind, some angry voice was telling him to get up, fight back, take what was rightfully his and under that weak worthless runt disgraced monster can't even conquer properly. He twitched, instinctively reaching for the well of his seidr to fight back, but then stopped. No one in his right mind would think he had any chance of winning in this situation, not with his magic so low, his body uncooperative and his thinking muddled.
Anxious to hide his conflicting thoughts weakness failure, he glanced up at the Avengers from his place crouched on the edge of the pit he had been laying in.
"I think I'll have that drink now." he smirked, letting a bit of that small voice, now urging him to kill them all tear out their hearts for this indignity make them pay, bleed through his tone.
His archer, Barton, drew back his bow, and Loki prepared himself for –
The green beast roared, and for a second it's great bulk looked purple.
An ugly, putrid purple, surrounded by masked shadows, the sick smell of decay and a voice that promised things worse than pain. Loki flinched violently, his back spasming.
Before disgust at his weakness could even take root in his mind, his magic acted in instinctual self preservation. Loki's eyes rolled back in his head an instant before his body shrouded itself in green and he vanished without a trace.
Tony Stark stared at the crater where Thor's crazy brother had just been sitting. Someone was going to have to tell Fury what had happened, and the pirate was not going to be happy.
"Not it!" he called, pressing one armored finger to his nose. It sure wasn't going to be him.