"SO, BASICALLY," TONY RECAPPED after the Cap, "basically what Capsicle here means to say is that we aren't really ordering you, a small-time hairdresser, into rooming with the evillest supervillain of the universe who is also immortal and slightly...
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13. It's an unlucky number, I've heard.
Huge clanging bells.
That was the first thing Naz could understand when she began to wake up. Then the smell of smoke and something bitter at the back of her throat.
She sat up to find herself in what looked like a huge box of glass. She stood up from the cold floor and looked ahead. She seemed to be in some sort of warehouse--
"We're underneath the ground."
She turned around, "Loki?"
He was sitting in his glass container-cage, glaring at everything his eyes could see. His right cheek was heavily bruised in what looked like the shape of a shoe heel.
"Are you okay? Why aren't you healing?"
"I'm fine. Magic is..." he set his jaw stubbornly, "not available at the moment. I ran out."
"Okay," she nodded, swallowing. We just need a plan, we'll be fine. "You said we're underground?"
"I can feel it," he replied. "That and the tremendous amount of energy surging over our heads."
"Is it the spacevault? It's going on? We have less than hour left now, right? What happened to Tony and everyone?"
He shrugged, "Yes, yes and I don't know."
"Then we got to get out of here and destroy it," she said, running her fingers across the glass. She pulled back and the punched the glass with all her might. Her scream of agony echoed around the room, "Son of a bitch!"
"You really thought I didn't try to break it?" Loki scoffed. "I've already tried and it's not—"
She punched the glass again and again.
It did not break but the spot where she had punched was red with blood. She was heaving for breath when she gave up and sat back. She looked at Loki across the distance sitting against the glass, glaring at the floor.
