Five days Later

May 13, 2012 — New York

The Hayes Manor was completely, unnervingly silent.

Loki stepped out of a fold in the air and into the grand living room. His boots made no sound on the polished hardwood. He held the Scepter loosely in his right hand. The blue gem pulsed with a slow, patient rhythm, casting long shadows across the elegant furniture and the framed photographs on the mantelpiece.

The magical wards around the property were formidable, layered, and interlocking. But they were not designed to keep out someone carrying an Infinity Stone. Especially with the master of the house absent.

High above the city, his grand army was currently descending from the black sky to claim the planet in his name. The invasion was finally underway. Soon, all of Midgard would be ruled by him.

But while his army was making its grand entrance, Loki was here. Inside the quiet home of the wizard.

He was not here to take hostages. Snatching a man’s family to use as leverage was the kind of crude, graceless tactic employed by warlords with no imagination. It was beneath him.

He was here for the nanny. The silver elf.

That silver creature had destroyed his perfect plans on the Helicarrier. She had snatched the Scepter from his hands like a governess confiscating a child’s toy, and she had done it with a polite smile and raw magical power that rivalled the greatest sorcerers of Asgard.

Loki had done the tactical math. His army and the Scepter were more than sufficient to claim this planet. The mortal Avengers were brave and stubborn, but they were still mortals. They would tire. They would break. They would eventually fall.

But his brother and the silver elf fighting together were an entirely different equation.

If they fought side by side, with Thor’s divine strength and the elf’s overwhelming magical output, even Loki wielding his Scepter could not guarantee victory. The margin for error was too thin. The variables were too unpredictable.

So the elf had to be removed from the board.

The timing was perfect. With the invasion raining fire on the cities, Earth’s defenders would be entirely occupied. The Avengers would be drowning in Chitauri blood. Thor would be in the thick of the slaughter, doing what Thor always did: swinging his hammer and bellowing about honour.

And the elf, bound by duty to protect the Hayes family, would be completely isolated here. The mortals could not teleport. No one could reach this quiet street in time to help her.

Loki glided silently toward the hallway, his green eyes scanning the shadows for the protector.

"Looking for someone?"

Loki froze. He pivoted smoothly and raised the Scepter.

Arthur Hayes was sitting in a plush leather armchair by the unlit fireplace. He wore a dark, comfortable sweater and held a glass of what appeared to be tea.

He looked exactly the same as he had during their brief encounter in the Mojave desert, yet the air around him felt wrong. Heavy. Dense. The large room itself seemed to bend slightly inward around where he sat, as though local gravity had quietly rearranged itself to acknowledge him as the absolute center of the space.

"Surprised?" Arthur asked, taking a slow sip of his drink.

Loki did not reply immediately. His ancient mind was turning fast, rapidly recalculating his variables. He checked the windows. He checked every exit.

"The exits are all still there," Arthur said mildly, following his gaze. "But I wouldn’t recommend trying them."

Loki lowered the Scepter an inch. His face settled into a mask of calm confidence.

"Hayes," Loki said smoothly. "I was told you were indisposed."

"I was." Arthur took another leisurely sip. "I got better."

"I do not believe that for a moment," Loki said carefully. "Were you truly indisposed? Or was this another of your games?" He began to pace slowly, keeping the Scepter between them. "Vanish from sight. Let your pathetic pawns scramble without you, and watch from the shadows to see which ones are actually worth keeping."

"Pawns and games." Arthur’s tone was mild and conversational. "I did not expect a god to delve into silly mortal conspiracies, Loki. But I am genuinely surprised you expected me to be sitting here."

"I did expect you to return eventually," Loki corrected, coming to a halt. "But certainly not here. I expected you to be outside, watching my army overwhelm your precious Avengers so you could swoop in at the last possible second to play the saviour. The wizard who arrives just in time. It would make them even more grateful. Even more dependent. Even more willing to follow your lead without question."

Arthur set down his glass. The sound of ceramic on wood was very quiet in the still room.

"They do not need me for the Chitauri," he said simply.

"Such confidence," Loki said, his smile sharpening. "Perhaps they can manage a handful of foot soldiers. But my army is endless. Every wave is larger than the last. Your heroes will burn out through sheer exhaustion and attrition long before the last transport ship empties." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "And while they burn out, think about the civilians, Hayes. Think about how many fragile Midgardians are dying right now while you sit here in this comfortable chair, drinking tea, pretending that everything is under control."

Arthur looked at him for a long moment. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"I prefer taking out the generals," Arthur said. "No matter how small they turn out to be."

Loki’s jaw tightened. The insult landed precisely where it was aimed. He forced the rising anger down and smiled coldly.

"Witty. Truly. How was your seclusion, then? My brother claimed you would emerge stronger. But from where I stand, you look like the same fragile mortal I have been hearing about. Someone who can be broken."

"My seclusion was productive. Thank you for asking." Arthur raised his right hand, palm open. "And yes. It was successful. See for yourself."

The air immediately around his long fingers darkened. It was not a shadow. It was something far, far older. A cold, absolute absence that made the light bend away from his skin as though the photons themselves wanted nothing to do with what was gathering there. The Death energy curled around his hand like smoke rising from a fire that burned black instead of orange.

The temperature in the room did not drop. The shadows did not deepen. Nothing so dramatic. But Loki’s instincts, honed across a thousand years of war and sorcery and survival, locked every muscle in his body and screamed at him to step back.

He did not step back. But his knuckles went white around the Scepter.

"Recognize it?" Arthur asked. "Your sister wielded this exact power across every single realm Asgard ever conquered. Quite effectively, from what I’m told."

Loki went still. "Sister?"

"Oh." Arthur closed his hand. The terrifying darkness faded instantly. "You don’t know about her yet. My mistake. Forget I mentioned it."

Loki’s jaw worked. The instinct to demand answers was almost overwhelming. But demanding answers meant admitting ignorance, and admitting ignorance to this man was a concession he refused to make. He filed the word away. Sister. He would find the truth on his own terms, in his own time.

He forced himself to assume it was another of the wizard’s manipulations and moved on.

Arthur shook his head. The look on his face was not pity, but something close to it.

"You really do have terrible luck, Loki. You fall into the endless void, and you could have landed absolutely anywhere in the universe. But instead, you fall straight into the hands of the Mad Titan." He picked up his tea again. "And then I go into deep seclusion. Fully expecting it to take weeks. Months, possibly. But it didn’t. It took only a week and I was able to come back a few hours ago." He took a slow sip. "Without me here, you might have actually had a chance today. A very, very small one. But now..."

At that exact moment, a deafening, continuous roar shook the foundations of the city. The sky outside the bay windows darkened as the invasion breached the atmosphere.

"It has begun," Loki said. A triumphant gleam returned to his eyes, and the smile that followed was genuine. "Your city will burn, Hayes. Midgard will kneel before the hour is done."

"So," Arthur said, crossing his legs comfortably. "What are you actually doing sneaking around here, Loki? I did not think a prince of Asgard would stoop so incredibly low as to capture my family to use as cheap hostages. Are you really that afraid of me?"

Loki scoffed and did not answer. It was entirely beneath a god to address such baseless, insulting accusations.

"We will discuss your cowardly intentions with this visit later," Arthur continued. His voice shifted. Something much, much colder settled heavily into it. "There was also something you did and said on the Helicarrier. Something involving my children."

Loki’s eyes flicked sharply back to Arthur.

"We will be discussing that extensively before the night is over."

The words were quiet. There was no anger in them. No heat. That was what made Loki’s fingers tighten involuntarily around the Scepter. Fury he could handle. Fury was predictable. This was something else. This was a man who had already decided what was going to happen and was simply informing you of the schedule.

Arthur reached for a small, sleek device resting on the side table. Loki’s body tensed instantly, the Scepter rising a fraction of an inch, magic gathering at the gem’s tip.

Arthur pressed a button. A wide holographic screen flickered to life on the far wall.

Loki blinked in surprise. Then he let out a short, sharp laugh at his own jumpy reaction. The wizard had noticed, of course. The faint amusement in Arthur’s eyes said as much.

The image on the large screen was crisp and immediate. Multiple high-definition camera feeds from across Manhattan, stitched seamlessly together into a massive panoramic view of the alien invasion.

"Sit," Arthur said, gesturing to the sofa opposite him. "Watch your army meet Midgard’s. We have a few minutes before we get to the unpleasant part."

Loki remained standing, his grip tight on the Scepter, but he was content to watch. He did not particularly like dirtying his own hands in combat. He felt certain that once Midgard’s pathetic defences collapsed on screen, he would break the wizard’s spirit completely.

Arthur watched Loki watching the screen. Then he picked up his tea and settled back into his chair.

"This is going to be a very educational evening for you, Loki."