Chapter 274: Thanos and His Black Order
Deep inside a colossal alien warship, Loki and Kaito Kumon were escorted by a tightly-marching column of alien soldiers, walking down an empty, silent corridor through the void of space. Cold metal walls lined either side, reflecting the faint overhead lighting and lending the passage a mysterious, solemn air.
Kaito Kumon looked around with open curiosity as he walked.
He noticed the ship's internal security was extraordinarily tight — every five paces brought another squad of fully-armed alien soldiers on patrol, their weapons gleaming with a cold, unsettling light.
Kaito wasn't particularly bothered by any of this, though. If anything, he felt a flicker of excitement — the tighter the security, the better the odds something worth having was hidden somewhere inside.
What caught his attention more, though, was the aliens' appearance. Their skin was a uniform gray, pitted and weathered as if worn down by countless ages. Stranger still, their skin was covered all over in small, uneven bumps — altogether a rather ugly sight.
Kaito couldn't help but frown, eyeing them with open distaste.
The aliens in this universe are seriously hideous. Or is it just these so-called Chitauri that got hit with the ugly stick? he muttered privately.
He liked to think he'd crossed through countless universes by now and seen every manner of monster there was, but something about these particular aliens genuinely turned his stomach. He found himself thinking back to the insectoid horrors of that one armored-beetle world — plenty ugly too, sure, but nowhere near as revolting as these Chitauri.
Just as they reached the end of the corridor, a massive metal door rose up before them. One of the alien soldiers submitted to a retinal scan against the wall, and the door slid open at last, revealing a passage leading toward the heart of the ship.
The Chitauri soldier turned to Loki and Kaito, his tone flat and cold. "His Majesty is inside. Go on in." With that, he ignored them entirely, taking up a rigid post beside the door like a soldier faithfully guarding his watch.
Loki eyed the little soldier, a flicker of displeasure crossing his mind. His face kept its practiced smile, but a chill crept into his eyes.
As a prince of Asgard, he was used to being met with respect and reverence. That some minor alien grunt would dare treat him with such disregard grated on him badly.
A common soldier, daring to be so insolent toward a prince of Asgard.
Of course, Loki understood well enough why he wasn't held in any regard here. These days he was nothing but a nameless, discarded castoff — ever since losing his last bid for the Asgardian throne, he'd wandered his way, more or less by accident, to this place. In the eyes of these Chitauri, he was just some washed-up drifter.
Loki silently swore to himself that he'd find a way to kill this particular Chitauri the first chance he got.
His plan had been flawless. Thor should have spent the rest of his life in exile.
It was all that damned Ethan Cross's doing.
A dangerous glint flashed in Loki's eyes. He despised Ethan with everything in him. If not for that man, he'd be back on Asgard right now, enjoying fine wine and finer food, adored and worshipped by the people of Asgard.
Instead, here he was, in some unfamiliar corner of the cosmos, having to deal with aliens — even having to bow his head to them.
Still, Loki hadn't given up hope. He knew he still had one card left to play.
The Space Stone was in Ethan's hands now — and that was an opportunity worth exploiting. He could use the Chitauri as a weapon against Ethan, borrowing another's blade to do his killing. Two birds, one stone.
Soon enough, he arrived at the heart of the ship, where an enormous throne came into view. Seated upon it was a massive purple figure — the one Loki now temporarily called his master: Thanos, also known as the Mad Titan.
Thanos's presence was overwhelming, commanding an aura of raw power that pressed down on Loki without his even meaning it to.
Standing beneath the throne were five aliens, each radiating a formidable presence of their own — Thanos's most loyal and capable lieutenants, the Black Order.
Loki knew that if he meant to earn any real footing under Thanos, he'd need to understand these five.
His gaze landed first on the figure standing at Thanos's right hand — a thin, gaunt man with a face oddly reminiscent of an octopus. This was Ebony Maw, one of Thanos's closest confidants.
His position alone said everything about his standing in Thanos's eyes — closest to the throne of all of them.
Loki regarded Ebony Maw with real wariness. He knew the man's intellect ran razor-sharp, and that he wielded an extraordinary gift for controlling others through language alone — earning him the epithet "the wicked black tongue." Worse, Ebony Maw was no slouch at sorcery either; Loki privately judged the man's mastery of magic to be roughly on par with his own.
Whenever Ebony Maw opened his mouth, his voice carried something almost hypnotic in it, drawing listeners in against their will.
Fooling this one is going to take some real work, Loki thought.
Next, Loki's gaze shifted to the woman standing beside Ebony Maw.
Blue-skinned, blue-haired, striking and strange in equal measure. This was Proxima Midnight, wife of Corvus Glaive, another of the Black Order.
Loki wasn't about to underestimate her for being a woman — he knew perfectly well that under Thanos, gender meant nothing. Only strength mattered.
Proxima Midnight was a galaxy-class combatant in her own right, and Loki knew without question that he was no match for her. She was also a master marksman, and the spear in her hand had been forged on Thanos's own personal order.
Loki eyed that spear, a flicker of greed sparking in his eyes.
He knew the weapon carried energy on the scale of a supernova — devastating beyond reckoning. He'd also heard tell of its more astonishing properties: it could conjure a net with the mass of an entire star to pin down an opponent, one that no enemy could ever hope to break free of. And once thrown, it split into three unerring beams of light that never missed their mark — a guaranteed kill on anything they touched.
A weapon like that reminded Loki of his own father's spear, Gungnir — the two seemed almost evenly matched in raw power.
Staring at the spear in Proxima Midnight's grip, Loki felt a hunger stirring in his chest.
Just as he was sinking into that craving, a massive shadow blotted out his view. Loki looked up to find Cull Obsidian looming directly in front of him, demanding in a rough, guttural voice: "Boy. You come before His Majesty and don't even offer a greeting? Is such insolence a death wish?"
Loki startled, quickly snapping back to attention.
He noticed the other members of the Black Order watching him now too, their eyes anything but friendly, and his chest tightened. He knew better than to let any crack show now — the consequences of a misstep here didn't bear thinking about.
So Loki dropped at once to one knee, right hand pressed to his chest, and addressed Thanos with careful reverence. "Honored Lord Thanos. Forgive my poor manners a moment ago. I bring you good news — regarding the Tesseract."
The instant Loki finished speaking, Thanos turned his deep-set eyes on him, waiting, it seemed, for whatever came next.
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