SHADOW OF DEATH
Chapter 3: Mjolnir
It was the rain that woke him first. Pit, pat, pit, pat on his nose and on his clenched hand. It made a slight metallic twang as it bounced off the silver object he lay wrapped around.
"Thor, your mood suits me ill. Stop this incessant downpour," Loki said out loud. When the rain refused to stop and his brother remained silent, he groaned. He opened one eye, then the other, and found grey ocean mist swirling around him. How long had he slept this time? His bones and his head still ached terribly.
He watched the rain as it fell from the grey clouds above him onto the grey pavement around him. Did not these mortals build with colors other than grey?
He stretched and turned his head inwards. He found he had fallen asleep in a fetal position, curled around something hard and metal. He rubbed his eyes and found himself staring at Mjolnir.
Ah, that was it! Sometime earlier, he had paused his search for traces of the magic of the Infinity Gems when he felt the power of Thor's hammer buried beneath a collapsed structure. He wanted to find Thor and Thor would want to find Mjolnir. If Loki stayed with Mjolnir, he would find his brother (not-brother).
Or so he told himself as he lay down by the hammer, rested his weary head, and drifted off to sleep.
Loki could not stay sleeping next to Mjolnir forever. He would need to come up with an alternate plan.
He debated leaving the irritating and traitorous beast of a weapon where he found it. (How dare it call him unworthy.)
Still, Thor would want his hammer and Mjolnir could always find Thor, even if Loki took it with him. He used his magic to slip the hammer in his space-between-spaces and carried it the only way he could.
He reached for his magic again and let it flow into the spaces around him. He felt as far as he could reach, searching for that familiar hum of the Tesseract. From this region, hardest hit by the mortal weapon, it was as if the city had simply been extinguished. He could not find traces of even a live cat or oversized rodent.
He clambered for miles, searching above and below ground with his magic.
There. He could feel a slight something.
Loki forced a collapsed metal frame to levitate and pass behind him. He then lifted boulders and shoved charred bits of former buildings out of his way.
Deeper, deeper.
Under a pile of steel beams, he found his scepter, still glowing faintly blue in its dark hiding space. The metal had slightly melted and the point was slightly twisted, but the stone remained intact.
He was not sure if he felt more relieved or disappointed.
Nightfall and the following dawn found him still searching the wreckage. He found traces of the portal generator, but only the smallest of fragments remained-still tasting faintly of the power of the Tesseract. He managed to find an intact Chitauri blaster and the circular shield belonging to the man of stars and ice. But no Tesseract.
And Thor had yet to come for Mjolnir.
Loki decided he would continue searching for the Tesseract, but not until after he gathered more information about the current status of his mission and his adversaries. This was information he could not find from the scene of the battle. He would need to seek out places far from here.
Oooooooooooooooooo
A few miles outside of Newark, Loki found life continuing on without any physical scars of battle on the buildings, roads, and people. He found cars honking at trucks, people walking their dogs, and restaurants with blinking "open" signs in their windows.
He dressed himself in the disguise of a faceless, nameless mortal in a green sweater and black dress pants and ducked into a small roadside tavern. He knew he could find access to news and television in such an establishment (and he wouldn't mind a drink. How long had it been since he last ate?).
The tavern stayed eerily silent. It was nearly empty, save for three other patrons scattered across the dimly lit room. The bartender and waitress barely spoke as they went through their tasks automatically, their eyes both rimmed with red, a stray tear slipping down the woman's face from time-to-time as she clattered a dish or counted currency.
How many people must have died in such a populous city? The loss of blood would no doubt reverberate across the globe from one end to the other.
"This is the first night we've been open since, well, you know," the bartender told an old, grizzled man in response to his inquiry. "We've gotta keep going. Heavens knows how long it will take to get our supply chains figured out, but at least we can give some of these poor folk a place to come to, get their minds off it all, you know. Everyone's all shook up."
The white-bearded man gave a half-hearted response. He slugged at a large tankard of amber liquid which left remnants of frost on his long mustache and turned his eyes towards one of the many glowing televisions lining the corners.
Loki sat by himself in the smoke-filled room on a tall stool, eyes transfixed on the televisions. The TV's low volume poured a steady stream of meager information.
"It is estimated that two million people were instantly killed in the nuclear blast that rocked Manhattan and Brooklyn four days ago. At least another million may have died in the 24 hours following the blast. Current statistics on the number of wounded are inconclusive. Rescue workers, medical professionals, and hospitals have been overwhelmed in all states surrounding New York as they struggle to provide aid for those injured and displaced. The White House Press Secretary has promised a full report of the situation tonight at 6pm."
The screens flashed with pictures of thousands of white healing tents overflowing with writhing, crying, screaming people. There were interviews with warriors who sought to provide aid and rescue from the flames and rubble. There were debates over why and who had initiated the weapon they called a nuclear missile.
New information waned as quickly as his bottles of weak Midgardian ale. Loki would need to return in a few hours to hear what flimsy excuse was concocted to justify the actions taken in New York. He had no doubt he would hear elaborate blame-shifting, mighty words of praise for the valor of the deceased, and false assurances of full control over the situation.
They may even declare it a victory. With the Chitauri forces decimated, they could proclaim their mighty defeat over the invading foes. All citizens of Midgard could be assured of their safety once again.
Loki would need to proceed carefully in order to spin his apparent "loss" to his advantage. He did not doubt Thanos' knowledge of the loss of his army would bring retribution. However, without access to the Tesseract or a portal, Thanos' vengeance would be anything but swift. In the meantime, Loki would return to searching through the rubble.
Thor, the mighty "God of Thunder," could withstand anything the mortals directed against him. Thor must have returned to Asgard to discuss the situation with the All-Father. Perhaps he simply traveled to speak with the rulers of these mortals and aid in their recovery efforts. More likely, Thor went to find his mortal woman and bask in the revels of victory.
(Without Mjolnir?)
Thor would come in time and till then, Loki would continue searching for the Tesseract.
A/N: Thank you for reading! All reviews are much appreciated. :)