"Brother," Thor called out across the small stretch of blue sand beach.
Loki looked up from the small campfire that he had built on the shoreline. "Well, well," Loki greeted the two men with a wicket grin and an arrogant swagger, "if it isn't the God of Thunder and his pet wizard. You know, I was expecting you long before now..."
"Where is he, brother?" Thor demanded, cutting Loki off abruptly. "Where is our father..."
"YOUR father," Loki spit out angrily. "*Your* father, Thor, *not* mine."
Thor drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to tamp down his growing rage. "Where is he? Why have you brought our father to this..."
"This what?" pressed Loki. "This fetid hellhole? This useless piece of space mold where you abandoned me to die? *Alone?*"
"I did not abandon you here to die," Thor argued.
"Only because *Mother* insisted that you return me to Asgard," countered Loki.
Thor sighed a second time, his patience rapidly wearing thin. "What do you *want*, brother?"
The air around Loki seemed to drop in temperature even as his rage started to burn. "What I want, 'brother', is to fulfill my birthright. And since our 'father' has destroyed the throne that was to be mine..."
"You decided you wanted to rule over *Midgard* as recompense for your imagined slights?" asked Thor. "Why?"
Loki shook his head, blinking back an expression of surprise. "Why...because of *you*, brother!"
It became Thor's turn to be surprised. "Me?"
Loki nodded. "Of *course*, brother!" he cooed. He spoke gently, talking to Thor the way a parent would talk to their preschooler. "You see, since *you* have such a fondness for these 'mortals', I realized that the best way to hurt you would be to take them away from you!"
Thor had to blink back his own disbelief. "And...father?"
Loki's expression shut down. "He is a means to an end," he declared, clearly not wanting to say any more on the topic.
Thor's fury exploded. He took two angry steps toward his foster brother...
And was knocked back twenty feet by an explosion of black-and-red tinged plasma energy. "What the hell was THAT?!" exclaimed Castle.
'That' was something with which Thor was all too familiar. "We need to leave," he told Castle, the Asgardian's face rapidly draining of what little color it had. "Now."
#
The sonic boom of a giant explosion caught the attention of everyone in the Xandarian headquarters. "That does not sound good," commented Denarian Day.
"It sounds like a plane crash," Cap added.
"Or a *spaceship* crash," agreed Quill.
The report of phaser blast fire told everyone inside the building that the outside of the building was under heavy attack. Alexis tugged on her boyfriend's arm. "I go up, you go out?"
Cap responded by pulling Alexis into a passionate kiss. He stopped the nearest Xandarian soldier he could find. "You got roof access in this place?" he demanded.
The soldier reflexively responded to the commanding tone in Cap's voice. "Y-y-y-yes, sir," he stammered out nervously.
"Take her there," ordered Cap. He smiled and gave Alexis a quick, second kiss. "We'll clean up behind you from ground level."
"Never let it be said you're not man enough to help with the chores," Alexis teased.
Quill got Rael's attention as Cap, Gamora and Alexis ran off in separate directions. "I wanna help," he volunteered.
"We could use every quality pilot we can get," Rael agreed. "Good luck."
"Um...about that..."
Rael sighed, not surprised that Peter Quill would have a catch. "What is it, Mister Quill?"
"My ship," Qull explained, "I *think* it's in orbit around Asgard at the moment."
Rael sighed again. "Denarian," she ordered, turning to Day, "Would you please find Mister Quill a ship to shoot with?"
"Yes, ma'am," replied Day.
Ryan started to fidget nervously. "We need to get that shield up," he insisted.
The group broke into a run, stopping only when they arrived at the entrance to the vault. Rael punched in the code that opened the stone's small cubby hole. "Be careful," she warned the strangers. "The stone is..."
Rael didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. The stone's protective casing shook in her hands, finally splitting open when she could no longer hold on to the erratically moving object. The Xandarian leader watched in awestruck horror as the glowing purple stone flared up from the floor, hovered for a second at Henry's eye level... then flew around the immortal's body and embedded itself into the back of his neck. The four men let our a unison scream of agony that Rael instantly recoiled from. "Guards!" she cautiously called out to the soldiers around her.
Henry stopped the approaching squad with a raised hand... and a new violet glow to his eyes. "I'm all right," he insisted.
Ryan eyed the new carrier warily. "You sure?"
Henry nodded, even though he was still using a nearby railing to steady himself. "Ready when you are."
Satisfied with Henry's response, Ryan turned to Ward's...who looked about as strong and steady on his feet as Henry did. "Are *you* okay?"
Ward nodded, but his white-knuckle grip on the railing told Ryan that the younger man's response was far more mind than matter. "We're running out of time," Ward warned Ryan. "Let's do this."
Ryan nodded, then turned to Rael. "You might want to stand clear," he warned the leader. Rael got out of the way of the three men as Henry, Ryan and Ward stood facing each other.
The three men stiffened as Ryan opened the connection between them, shaking as the overwhelming energy flowed through Henry, then Ryan, and finally into Ward. Sparks of violet-tinged light jumped between the three men. The sparks grew into bolts as a wind cyclone kicked up in the small room...
A column of light shot through the roof of the building as it surrounded the three men. Rael gawked at the light, stunned when she realized that it was harmlessly passing directly through the building that they were standing in.
And then the sky itself turned purple. Rael slowly started to back away from the column of light, her concern growing for her people in the face of the obvious threat...or danger...or natural disaster...or *supernatural* disaster...
Rael was so distracted that the soldier that was running into the room at top speed nearly ran her over. The younger man flew back, first from the impact, then from shock, embarrassment, and finally from a deep sense of personal dishonor and looming, probably severe punishment. "I beg your forgiveness, ma'am," he apologized. "If I had known..."
The leader waved off the man's protests. "Report," she demanded, quickly regaining her composure.
"It's...it's the Kree fleet, ma'am," the officer stammered. "They've stopped."
"Stopped?" asked Rael. "Are they in orbit?"
The soldier shook his head. "No ma'am, they've *stopped*. Our scout pilots have reported Kree fighters exploding at the upper edge of our atmosphere. Almost as if they're crashing into..." It was then that the younger officer noticed the condition of the air around him...and the condition of the three other people in the room. "Ma'am...?"
"What of our pilots?" Rael asked the soldier, still trying to assess whether the sheld was an even greater threat to her people than the Kree. "Are they suffering the same fate?"
"No!" the soldier exclaimed, the question shocking the man back into the mindset of obeying his orders. "I mean...no, ma'am. Our ships are not experiencing whatever...this..." The soldier's voice trailed off a second time as he followed the column of purple energy up toward the ceiling.
"And what of the others?" Rael pressed the younger man.
"Our...our new anti-craft system is making swift work of those ships, ma'am," the officer nervously replied. "The leader of the strangers has taken command of the palace guard..."
Rael frowned at the mention of one of the strangers that was not a part of the nearby column of light. "Their leader?"
"Yes ma'am," the soldier replied. "The one in the red, white and blue armor. He is leading a complement of the palace guard in a defensive strike to take out any pilots who survive the crash of their ships."
Rael finally let out a sigh of relief as her worst fears were allayed. It was only then that she allowed herself to turn to face the strangers once again, sharing in the amazement that was pouring off of her subordinate in waves. That amazement faded as the bigger picture once again returned to the front of her mind. "I need to speak to the Kree Emperor immediately."
The soldier clicked his heels, recognizing an order when he heard one. "Yes ma'am."
#
Beckett wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword, following Coulson's lead. "You realize that's a glamour guarding Odin, right? It's not the real Loki."
Coulson pulled his own sword from its sheath. "Trust me," he replied. "Glamour or not, he can still kill you. And if Loki gets wind of what we're doing we'll be lucky to be facing only one of him." He turned to Sif. "Can you carry Odin out of here if necessary?" The Asgardian nodded. "Then you guys know the plan."
The small group nodded in unison. "Good luck, son of Coul," said Sif.
Coulson ended the discussion with a quick nod. The six warriors split into two groups of three, fanning out in opposite directions. Satisfied that his instructions were being followed, Coulson drew In a deep breath and let it out slowly, steeling his nerves for his part in his plan.
As bait.
Coulson strolled through the jungle to the clearing, forcing himself to keep his steps confident and casual. "Well, well," he called out in greeting, "fancy meeting you here, Loki."
Not-Loki looked up at the new sound. "I should be saying the same of you," he agreed, surprised to see anyone other than his brother or his brother's pet wizard. Non-Loki frowned, trying and failing to attach a name to the face of the being speaking to him. A face that felt vaguely familiar. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Coulson smiled. "It's been a few years," he told the wizard's construct. "You've probably killed a lot of beings since then."
Non-Loki's eyes widened as he finally recognized the mortal in front of him. And where he left the man last. Or rather, where he last left the man's bleeding corpse. "It *is* rare to meet someone years after you killed them," non-Loki agreed. "I have, however, met several spirits in my day..."
The shock on non-Loki's face caused Coulson's smile to widen with satisfaction. "I can understand why you might think I was a ghost," Coulson agreed, letting his eyes briefly flash with a glow of orange spirit energy. "I am, however, quite real. And very much alive."
The orange flash of power coming from the mortal's eyes gave non-Loki pause, forcing the construct to wonder if the mortal in front of him was indeed as mortal as he claimed to be. "Prove it," countered non-Loki.
"Kinda hard to do that from all the way over here," Coulson argued. He lifted his sword, pointing its tip in the direction of the frost giant. "Now if we cross swords, on the other hand..."
Non-Loki took two cautious steps in Coulson's direction. "It *is* hard to doubt someone's mortality once you've run a sword through their chest," he agreed...before his own memories provided a counter-argument. "Wait...is that not what I did to *you*?"
Coulson shrugged and took two steps toward the construct. "I've learned a few things since our last meeting. But of course, if you'd prefer to stab me in the back like a coward again..."
The smile left non-Loki's face at the challenge to his honor. "I am no coward," he insisted.
"Prove it," commanded Coulson.
Non-Loki conjured a sword and crossed the clearing with a clumsy, angry opening move. Coulson easily countered, and the battle began in earnest.
The clang of metal against metal was the signal that the other warriors needed. Sif rushed to her master's side while Fandral went behind Odin to loosen his bindings. "My Lord," Sif greeted Odin, "can you walk?"
Odin looked up, squinting through the mix of blood and sweat pouring down from his forehead. "Lady Sif?" he asked weakly.
Sif nodded. "Can you walk, my Lord?" she asked, repeating the question.
Odin nodded just as Fandral was able to slice through the bindings around the Asgardian ruler's ankles. He pushed himself up to a standing position with a groan.
That groan created a combination of sound and shadow that just caught the edges of non-Loki's attention. The recognition of a rescue attempt sent non-Loki into a fury. "NOOOOOOO!" he screamed.
The clearing was instantly encircled with clones of Loki, each one holding a replica of the sword that the first non-Loki held in his hand. They had gone from seven warriors against Loki to three Lokis facing down *each* warrior. Defeat seemed almost certain...
Until all seven warriors disappeared in the blink of an eye.
#
Fallon sprinted to the launchpad at Jane's direction, carefully greeting their barely conscious guest in the manner that the carrier had insisted upon. "Lord Odin," he began, "my name is Mark Fallon..."
"Director," Thor declared, cutting off all formality. "My father is in need of the Yīzhī. And we have much larger problems to discuss."
Those might have been the last words that Fallon expected to hear. "What's going on, Thor?"
"We have found the Aether...the reality stone," Thor declared. "My brother is its carrier."