Loki could never acclimate to this disconcerting reality—the acrid tang in his mouth, tainted by the chaotic contraptions carelessly assembled by mortal hands. Did they possess no reverence for their abode? It bore no resemblance to the majesty of Asgard. Instead, the grimy air stubbornly clung to every inch of his being, a repulsive embrace.
Seeking solace, the god found himself beneath the city, surrounded by reluctant allies. The intricate tunnels, remnants of a bygone human generation, hardly befitted a prince of Asgard, let alone the conqueror of Earth. Yet, his time for dominance would inevitably arrive.
In the quietude, as he contemplated his future endeavors, the tranquility shattered with the rhythmic patter of footsteps through the waterlogged tunnels. Unwanted interruptions disrupted his much-needed respite. His body, still recovering from the ordeal with Thanos, felt the toll of the the portal that had transported him to this dismal realm.
Standing to attention, determined to uphold his unyielding facade, he awaited the impending arrival of the footsteps' owner. Mild frustration permeated the air, as a few moments of silence became were a luxury in this unforgiving place.
"Sir…" saluted the soldier under his control, "…We have an intruder."
His curious gaze descended sharply, danger arose in his glare, and his body language shifted seamlessly into that of an apex predator. "Show me…" he growled, devoid of mischief, replaced only by a simmering rage.
Every footstep resonated through the tunnels, an indistinct symphony that made it impossible to discern the intruder's origin. Barton's military prowess became unmistakably apparent; seizing the agent had proven to be a well-judged decision.
At last, his gaze settled upon the stranger, unnaturally blue eyes scanning the man from head to toe as the god approached. "I'm impressed you got this far," his tone carried a deceptive lightness, a facade thinly veiling the danger lurking in his eyes. "Are you friend or foe?"
A significant part of Loki secretly yearned for the latter; the anger building within him clamored for release.
