Hey guys, so this is Attempt 2 of this chapter, and, this time, I am definately happy with it. I guess I was sleep deprived when I wrote the last one. Sorry, guys. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this improved chapter!

Disclaimer: Only Nyx is mine.

Flashes of pain and torture flashed through his mind, images of organs and blood and scattered limbs. He could hear the screams of thousands of souls; some of rage, some of pain, some of loss. What all of them had in common was that they were all ear-splittingly loud, they seemed to frantically push at his mind, invading his subconscious and pushing on his very soul. He tried to block them out, but no matter what he did there was always more; pain filled eyes, wounds gushing blood, pleas for help and screams of pain. They were unavoidable. They were everywhere.

He couldn't think. All he could remember was his own torture, his own pain. Yet he was pretty sure the mangled corpses shown before him were not himself. They were strangers, long dead, their suffering long forgotten. At this point he couldn't care less about how those people had suffered. He just wanted them out of his head.

Almost as soon as he had had that thought, his mind cleared. The tortured cries of the dying faded into nothingness, into silence, and he was left alone yet again. He lay there for a moment, trying to recover.

And then it all came rushing back to him.

How he himself had been tortured, maimed, had screamed and groaned like those who were in his mind had done. He remembered the pain, how his body was twisted to the point of snapping, then burned and stretched some more. He remembered every detail, up until the end. Up until his final thought.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

At that point he had been sure he was going to die; he could feel himself slipping away from reality as the poker was driven under his ribs. He had accepted his imminent death. It was inevitable.

He tentatively raised his hand to his torso. There was no iron poker impaling him, no blood, and no evidence of any injury at all. In fact, all of the scars and bruising caused by his torment had miraculously disappeared. Every muscle burned, and his head was pounding, but all of his physical injuries had seemingly been healed. His mental injuries... Well, he'd deal with those later.

He pushed himself up onto his knees, groaning at the effort as his bones cracked and his muscles protested to the movement.

"You might not want to do that."

The strange yet familiar voice shattered the deafening silence, making Loki -no matter how hard he tried to hide it- jump in shock and fear. Looking around cautiously, he hauled himself to his feet, still seeing no signs of anyone but him in the desolate area.

"Show yourself."

Almost as soon as he had spoken, the air to his left rippled like water, shimmering, bright sparks of light thrown in every direction, forcing Loki to squint and cover his eyes with his hand. Forcing himself to look through the light, Loki could make out a dark silhouette standing motionless against the brightness. The figure was obviously male, judging by its shape and build, and Loki couldn't shake the feeling that he knew the person who was standing before him.

As the light slowly faded, the man's features became clearer. Loki's focus was captured by the armour the man was wearing - it was the armour of a warrior of Asgard, and not only that, but the armour of the Allfather's personal guards. When he finally dragged his eyes away from the swirling runes on the golden chest plate, it took Loki all of five seconds to realise just who was standing before him.

"Tyr? But you're-"

"Dead?" Tyr smirked. "So are you." His smirk slowly faded into a pitiful smile. How had I not recognised that voice? The man who brought up Nyx, may as well have been my second father, the man who trained me to be the warrior I am today. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Loki just nodded, swallowing his confusion and focusing on more important things. "Am I in Hel?"

An almost regretful look passed across Tyr's face, but before Loki could make sense of it it was gone. "No," he said carefully, "you're not in Hel, Loki. You're not in Valhalla either. You're at the Seam."

"The Seam?"

"Between life and death. Your soul cannot rest in Valhalla, as the Valkyrie do not welcome you. Your soul cannot rest in Helheim, as the Keeper of Souls is dead. As a result, your soul is still tied to your body."

At Tyr's words, anger and confusion shot through Loki. "The Valkyrie would not welcome me? Did I not die, a noble enough death? Sacrificing myself to save those I care about?"

At this, Tyr smiled a sad smile. "They were under the strict orders of Odin Allfather not to allow you into Valhalla. It seems he feels your past crimes are too great, no matter how honourable your death."

Loki grit his teeth and kicked at a nearby patch of dirt in frustration. He started muttering under his breath. "So my so called father hates me even in death, condemning my soul to an eternity of misery and hell-" Wait. "What do you mean the Keeper of Souls is dead?"

"My daughter has slain her." For a moment all Tyr's eyes portrayed was grief, but it was quickly replaced by pride. "No more will the souls of the dead be her prisoners, they will be free and no longer in fear."

"But what will happen to Helheim?"

A troubled look passed across Tyr's face. "I do not know. I suppose, Loki Laufeyson, only time will tell."

Loki sighed, tired and frustrated. He knew he wasn't going to get any solid answers out of Tyr. "So what happens to me now?" He asked, throwing his arms up to express his anger at the situation.

"I'm sending you back to Midgard. You will be alive, and a God, with all of your powers, just as you were before. There, you will meet with your brother and his friends, and they should be able to fill in the blanks for you. I only see what I am supposed to now, that I am on the Other Side. I do not know exactly what happened while you were under Thanos'... care."

Loki could sense the fallen warrior's lie from a mile off, but for once, chose not to mention it. He knows exactly what happened, he just won't tell me. I guess I'll have to figure it out for myself, then. Loki straightened his posture like the Prince he was, and spoke to Tyr with the authority he had long sines perfected. "Then send me back, soldier. I will owe you from now until Ragnarok, and may you call upon me if you should ever need assistance."

Tyr was grinning, amused that Loki could still act regally after all that had happened. He clenched and spread his palm out wide, a faint white glow emanating from beneath his skin. As Loki watched, transfixed, the light grew, consuming Tyr's entire hand. The warrior started muttering an incantation under his breath, and the runes on his armour started to glow the same white as his hand. Loki figured this was his last chance to ask questions. "Why are you doing this?"

Tyr stopped speaking, and the blinding light seemed to warp through the air like snakes, swirling and moving gracefully until they engulfed Loki's body, forcing him to shield his eyes from the sheer intensity of it. Before he lost consciousness, Loki heard Tyr answer his question, with two simple words.

"For Nyx."

Loki woke up in a place that was all too familiar to him. He was lying on the floor of the Stark Tower, where the Hulk had beaten him into the floor all those years ago, staring up at the smooth tiled ceiling.

The imprint his body had made was still there, surprisingly, although otherwise the entire tower showed no signs of his world domination attempt. Damn Stark, leaving my imprint here as a mark of his cockiness and arrogance no doubt. Loki winced as he crawled his way out of the hole and rolled onto the otherwise smooth stone floor. He stared up at the ceiling, and blinked.

I'm alive. Chitauri killed me, but Tyr saved me, for Nyx. I will forever be in his debt.

Loki took some time to collect himself, lazily using his magic to heal the soreness in his bones and the fatigue that no doubt came from being resurrected. He also used his magic to change into his casual Asgard clothing; a green tunic and black leather pants. The clothes he had been wearing were matted with blood and dirt, from his torture.

Torture.

He pushed the thought out of his mind quickly, slicking back his hair. Once he was satisfied that he no longer looked like one of the zombies from the ridiculous movies Thor had taken a liking to, he pushed himself fully to his feet and stretched like a cat.

Now what?

He needed answers. Tyr had obviously wanted him to find out what had happened on his own, and he was going to do it. He needed to know what had happened to Thanos, to Hela, and most of all, to Nyx.

Without another thought, Loki sauntered over to the elevator, with the sole purpose of finding his brother.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid smoothly open, revealing an expensive looking room full of various chairs and tables, and a flat screen TV. Sitting on comfortable looking seats in the corner were Stark and the Hulk, or at least the Hulk's human form. Loki quickly steered his gaze away from the duo; even now, the rage monster terrified him, though he wouldn't dare admit it. Drinking at the bar were the assassins. His old minion, Hawkeye, and the Russian spy who had once fooled him, Natasha. Loki knew from years being held at Stark Tower that the Hawk had not forgiven him for possessing him. He, as Loki found out, could hold quite the grudge. Captain Rogers was sitting alone in the far corner of the room, seemingly drawing in a book. He looked out of place, silent among the loud conversations of his teammates.

Standing alone, looking out over the city stood Thor, in mortal clothing. His hair was a mess, and his gaze was forlorn as he watched the city beneath him. The weather reflected how upset he was; thunder rolled overhead, and rain smashed against the window. The Thunderer looked utterly depressed, weak, and -in Loki's opinion- pathetic.

None of Earth's Mightiest Heroes had noticed him yet. He cleared his throat loudly and purposefully, then strode further into the room.

The effect was instantaneous.

Those who were sitting stood and turned to face him, all with either stunned or confused looks on their faces. Well, other than Hawkeye, who looked angry and disappointed. Loki almost laughed, but settled with a grin and a wave in the Hawk's direction, receiving a glare in return. Bastard probably wished I was dead.

"What is he doing here-"

"Brother!" Clint's harsh remark was cut off by Thor, who pushed past his friends and engulfed Loki in a tight hug that looked extremely painful. Loki struggled, unable to breathe, and finally succeeded in disentangling himself from his 'brother' long enough to glare at him.

"Thor. Tell me everything that happened from when I left, or so help me-"

"Loki." Thor interrupted his threat. "Once we realised you had left, we went to Helheim in search of you. We killed Hela and her forces, only to realise that you were no longer there. We tried tracking Thanos, but we couldn't, and we didn't know how to find you-"

"Thor, stop, you blundering idiot. I'm fine. Now, where's Nyx?" Loki needed to get away before Thor got too emotional. Nyx could help him fill in the blanks, and to be honest, he had missed her. She was the only one that understood him.

"Brother-" Thor's eyes were full of sorrow, and as he put his hand on Loki's shoulder, Loki knew that something was wrong. Very wrong. He stiffened under Thor's grip and grit his teeth.

"Where is she, Thor? I need to talk to her." Loki's voice betrayed his anxiety and panic, and his fists clenched at his sides. He glanced around the room. Every mortal, even the Hawk, was looking at him with a look of intense pity and sorrow. "Tell me."

Thor sighed and looked Loki dead in the eye, visibly holding back tears as his fist clenched around Loki's shoulder. "Loki, I am truly sorry." Thor's voice cracked, and a single tear made its way down his cheek. The grip on his shoulder was almost painful now. "I am truly, truly sorry. I couldn't-" He took a deep breath, readying himself. "I-I couldn't save her. I was too weak."

"What? Thor-" Loki's voice was barely a whisper, and his brow was furrowed, His mind was screaming at him. No. No. No, she wouldn't leave me. She can't. She's the only one I have left...

"She's dead, Loki."

And there you go! Now, this is officially the end of the story. Attempt 1 of this chapter will be deleted, because duplicate chapters are a bitch. I hope you enjoyed the story, and this chapter!

Thank you soo much for over 4000 views, and to everyone who followed, favourited or reviewed during the course of this story. It means a lot.

Also, any questions you have will probably be answered in the sequel. Because I intentionally left some things unexplained.

Wait. I just said sequel.

Well, I decided I am going to do a sequel to this story. I don't know when, but I swear, I will do it. Even if it is like a year from now. But it shall be done!

So, this is the end of this extremely long authors note. Please review, lemme know what you think.

And for the last time... BYEEEE :D