It makes her sick, the way sadness is addicting. Sadness is familiar. It's comfortable and it's easy in the sense that it comes naturally to her. But everything else about it is hard. The way her body aches with self-hatred. The way her mind spins a...
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Athalia had teleported Loki back to the Jet, admittedly frightening Natasha as she continued to fly it. The Amesthyset mist curled around the two gods, making them vanish into thin air, safely landing in the back of the jet. Athalia gave the redhead directions to where she could find the three other men. After picking them up, an awkward tension between them.
Flying through the night air, their jet landed on an even bigger aircraft. It was pitched black all around them, not even being able to see the sparkle of the moon, shining down on them. A group of Agents can out, taking Loki away. Surprisingly, he didn't fight back. A frown coated Athalia's lips. Did Loki want to be taken away? When all the agents were gone, Nat lead them inside the aircraft.
They stopped in the main era, lit but a bunch of white lights, placed in the ceiling. There were even more agents there, all of them typing away on computers, following orders. Sitting down around a table, a projected image appeared on the surface.
Loki was being held in a holding cell. It was a circle shape, glass walls all around, with only one spot to seat. A man was with him, Director Nicalos J. Fury. He wore all black, head to toe, and a black eye patch strapped over his left eye, with little scars poking out from the top of the patch. At first glance, Athalia got that feeling as if he couldn't be trusted. An uneasy feeling sank in her stomach. But seeing as she didn't know that Loki, her twin, the person she grew up with, was capable of the torturous crimes they'd committed, she thought it was best not to trust the feeling.
What people are capable of can surprise you.
"In case it's unclear," Fury spoke, part of his body cut off from the projection. "If you try to escape, if you so much as scratch that glass,"
Pressing a button, the floor under Loki's holding cell opened. Loki looked over the edge, the loud sound of air whooshing around the room was picked up through the speakers, delivering an uncomfortable cracking noise to the other end.
"It's 30,000 feet straight down in a steel trap! Do you get how that works?" After pressing a few more buttons, the floor closed again, the whooshing air now standing still. "Ant," Fury pointed at Loki then turned to the machine next to him. "Boot."
Loki chuckled a sicking laugh, "It's an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me." Loki spoke, walking around the cell.
"Built for something a lot stronger than you," Fury replied.
"Oh, I've heard," Loki said, a devilish smirk laced on his lips as he looked directly at one of the cameras. Making eye contact with everyone who watched the projections. "A mindless beast. Makes play he's still a man." Lifting her gaze, Athalia met the eyes of Doctor Bruce Banner. Given the apprehensive energy he was radiating, she thought Loki's words must have been directed at him.
"How desperate are you, that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?" Loki asked the mortal man on the opposite side of the glass.
"How desperate am I?" Fury repeated the question, "You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace, and you kill because it's fun." Fury listed off, slowly moving from his place next to the control panel, closer to the class of the cell. "You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did."
