Eagle (A Loki love story)

Chapter 166

Mira's POV

The last thing I saw was Loki's face, then all turned to silver glass. Just like Gandalf said it would. The oddest passing thought surfaced in my fading mind–my fading body. For a second, my mind seemed to disconnect, switch off shortly after all physical sensation did. But when I snapped out of my trance, I felt like I was falling. Like when you're trying to fall asleep, and you're just about to, but then you feel like you're falling and suddenly you're fully awake again. But this lasted a bit longer, long enough to notice and examine how much the spike in heart rate hurt. Wait.

I threw my arms to the ground, and found myself twisted. One of my hips was on the ground, and both of my hands were digging into the rich Wakandan soil. Wait, what?! I felt like I'd fallen a second time. My breath came in short gasps as my eyes darted around. I had died! Undoubtedly died! How could I be here? Unless this was some sort of cruel afterlife? My eyes quickly found Bucky, shakily standing where he'd fallen, while Wanda and Pietro clung to one another near Vision's–hold up.

Vision's body was gone. Long gone. And in his place were a pair of headstones, partially obscured by the twins. I couldn't read the inscription, my mind couldn't process words yet, but when I looked back at Bucky, there was an identical one close to him as well! I clutched at the dirt beneath my shaking fingers, feeling it press under my nails. The uncomfortable sensation grounded me as I slowly looked back at the headstone that was four inches from my face. In scrambling movements, I shuffled back so I could read it.

In Memory of Mira Laufeyson

1990-2018

Loving Wife, Adoring Mother

The Seventh Avenger, Eagle, Neon Witch

One of the Vanished

Oh, this was some new cruelty! We had somehow been transported into another dimension! Looking around again, I saw T'Challa stumble into the clearing, followed by Sam. No one who hadn't vanished, to use the term on my headstone, was here. Loki wasn't here. Tears clouded my eyes as I reached out to touch the stone. If we were in a parallel world, or shifted out of sync with our own, then we would be little more than ghosts, unable to be seen, to feel– My fingertips brushed against the warm, black stone. The shock was so bad that I tumbled forward, and would have ended up kissing it if someone hadn't grabbed my shoulders. The cold hand told me it was Bucky.

"Easy there. You ok?" I swallowed the rising bile in my throat and grabbed his flesh hand.

"No." It was little more than a whisper. What was going on? I didn't understand. I was dead, and yet here I was. If I was a ghost, I wouldn't be able to touch the stone, nor would Bucky have been able to touch me.

Looking closer at the clearing, it didn't look like I remembered. There was no evidence of the resin that had held Pietro and I in place, no footprints left by Thanos, no signs of a scuffle, but instead a man-made path of sand ringed with round, polished, black stones that began here in the clearing and wove away into the trees.

How far in the future had we been brought? Was Loki ok? And Dreyma. I let out a sob. Had she even survived?

"What's going on?" I couldn't tear my eyes from the headstone. Bucky squeezed my shoulder and knelt beside me.

"I don't know, but we're going to figure this out, ok?" I nodded and clutched his hand even tighter. I grabbed the hilt of one of my blades with the other.

"I am Groot."

"Does anyone understand that he's saying?" Unlike Wanda, Pietro still had a very pronounced Sokovian accent. Nobody answered his question.