But pain and pride are two different things. The lofty Loki could not tolerate the humiliation of being slapped. He let out a furious roar.
"Midgardian, you're courting death!"
Loki, full name Loki Laufeyson, carried the royal bloodline of the Frost Giants in his veins.
The bloodline that filled him with deep-seated shame, beyond granting him formidable magical talent, also gave him speed and strength far surpassing the vast majority of races in the universe.
Whether in close combat or sorcery, he had his own bag of tricks.
The Thing, Ben, clearly hadn't anticipated this. In his eyes, the scrawny Loki should have been a mage—nothing to worry about in melee. And so he paid the price for his contempt.
Bang!
Everyone watched in stunned disbelief as the Thing was sent flying by a single swing of Loki's scepter, crashing into a car.
My—fuck!
What just happened?
You had to understand, the Thing's mass only kept increasing. Right now, he weighed nearly fifty tons. And yet Loki knocked him flying with a scepter?
Was something off about this visual, or what?
But the very next moment, the Thing burst furiously out of the wrecked car, charged back to Loki, and threw a punch.
Thud!
A dull impact. Loki felt as though a giant hammer had smashed into his cheek. The devastating force radiated from his head, his features twisting, the pull and drag yanking through his entire body.
By the time he registered it, it was already too late. The immense power sent him hurtling over ten meters, crashing through a statue on the plaza and burying him in a pile of rubble.
Rattle... clatter...
Amid the loose stones, Loki propped himself up with his scepter and rose, shaking his groggy head. His swollen cheek had gone numb, all sensation lost.
A strange sensation came from inside his mouth. He curled his tongue and spat out a bloodied tooth.
Staring at the tooth in his palm, Loki froze—then exploded with rage.
"Not even my brother has ever hit me like this!"
Loki swung his scepter backhanded, aiming to send the Thing flying again, but the Thing caught the scepter mid-swing, then drove an elbow into his shoulder.
The air was brutally shredded, carving deep gouges into the ground.
Loki only managed a single miserable cry before he was driven into the earth, a massive crater forming beneath him. Even with the robust physique of a Frost Giant, he couldn't help but feel short of breath.
The horned helmet toppled from his head. Loki scrambled up, hair disheveled and smeared with mud, his wretched appearance nothing like the debonair figure from moments before.
Though he hadn't suffered any real bone or tendon damage, the throbbing pain in his cheek relentlessly needled his nerves. After forcing Dotty back with an energy blast, he roared at the top of his lungs.
"Enough, Midgardian! You have angered a noble god."
He glared at the Thing, teeth gritted. If not for sticking to the plan, he would've slaughtered the Thing on the spot, right then and there.
There was no denying it—he absolutely had the ability. As someone who styled himself a mage, he had no shortage of methods at his disposal.
Even if his physique couldn't compare to the Thing's current form.
"There are no gods in this world."
The Thing—a man of science—corrected him.
"Midgardian, the honor of Asgard shall not be slandered."
In the brief span of those words, the swelling on Loki's face had already subsided, leaving only faint bruises. As he spoke, his entire demeanor shifted, his gaze growing ever colder.
Just then, raucous rock music blared from the plaza's loudspeakers. Stark, clad in his Iron Man armor, came flying on a trail of fire.
Two energy beams shot from his palms, striking Loki square in the chest in an instant.
Loki grunted, driving his scepter into the ground and bracing himself as the shockwave pushed him back two full meters.
Stark spread both hands open. The sound of mechanical gears clicking into place rang out, and then every weapon system on his body locked onto Loki.
"Bambi, how do you like Uncle Stark's gift? No? Too bad! One more move, and it's your life."
The Thing and Stark now formed a pincer formation, sealing off any space Loki could escape into.
Loki drew two deep breaths, suppressing the fury in his heart. A golden shimmer flickered over his body, and his battle armor faded away, revealing a black tailcoat underneath. At the same time, he slowly raised both hands.
"A sensible choice. You'd better not try anything funny."
Stark retracted his weapon systems and lowered his hands.
"He surrendered?" Black Widow asked, puzzled.
"Isn't it obvious?"
Stark flipped up his helmet's faceplate, his expression practically screaming, go on, praise me.
Urged on by Natasha, the three of them escorted Loki aboard the Quinjet. Flames roared, and the aircraft shot skyward, heading toward the Helicarrier.
On the Quinjet, Loki sat silently in a corner. His utterly compliant demeanor left Black Widow deeply unsettled.
If it wasn't a sign of unfathomable cunning on Loki's part, then it absolutely meant there was a scheme at play.
In Black Widow's eyes, Loki fell squarely into the category of those who were both unfathomably cunning and exceptionally skilled at scheming.
In the original storyline, it had been Steve, Captain America, who suspected Loki. But now, Steve belonged to the Burning Legion and was, moreover, a battleship-level superhuman.
He hadn't joined the Sword Division, so naturally, he wasn't here.
Black Widow was relying purely on her own intuition.
After all, everyone in the Marvel universe knew that the most reliable superhero was Black Widow.
After the future snap of the Mad Titan, Thor sank into video games, eating and drinking himself into a giant slob.
Hawkeye ran off to Japan to kill yakuza, drifting through his days in a haze.
Stark fell into despondency. Dr. Banner fell into despondency.
A whole crowd of men, and in the end, it still fell to Black Widow to work tirelessly helping the government restore order. Otherwise, things would've only gotten worse.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
Stark raised an eyebrow.
"What, because the rock star surrendered too easily?"
"I think it's not that simple. That guy's seriously powerful, yet he gave up so cleanly."
Beside them, Loki, who had been listening to everything with his head bowed, curled the corner of his mouth into a wicked smirk. Sturdy castles often crumbled from within, and this time, it seemed especially easy.
Rumble... boom...
The clear night sky suddenly churned with dark clouds, lightning flashing and thunder roaring. Natasha, piloting the jet, found it deeply strange.
The Quinjet was flying above the cloud layer—there was no way they should be seeing lightning. And yet, this paranormal event was happening right before their eyes.
"Guys, something's off about this lightning."
Hearing the booming clash of thunder and lightning, Loki's body gave an involuntary twitch. Stark caught the movement.
"What, are you scared of a little lightning?"
Loki pressed his lips together, his expression sour.
"It's not the lightning. I just detest the fellow who tends to come with it."
The moment Loki finished speaking, everyone heard a deafening clang above their heads. Something seemed to have landed on the roof of the cabin, causing the aircraft to shudder violently.
"The troublesome one is here," Loki muttered to himself.
Among those present, the only one capable of flight, Stark, didn't waste a single word. His face was instantly covered by the symbiote armor. The playboy might have been unreliable in everyday life, but in critical moments, he never passed the buck. In terms of sheer accountability, he was a hero through and through.
As the cabin door opened, Thor, draped in a red cape, descended amidst the lightning. He was just about to reprimand Loki when he caught sight of the bruises on his brother's face.
All the pent-up anger inside Thor instantly softened, and he asked in a gentle voice:
"Brother, who hit you?"
/-\
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