Chapter Text
Loki ran as fast as he could, passing odd structures and towering pieces of metal. He could hear the cries of what had to be hundreds of Chitauri soldiers. Most of them were chasing after him on foot, but Loki could here the engines from their hovering chariots. Catching a glimpse of even more soldiers coming in from his right, he quickly turned. However, as he did so his foot caught on jagged earth. He caught himself on his hands and scrambled back to his feet. The roars and shouts got closer. He was running again, but the pain in his ankle made it more difficult.
The nearly pitch black surroundings didn’t help. He had hoped it would give him some cover, but he guessed that didn’t make up for getting spotted when he was still inside the damn prison. His breath was coming in short, making it hard to push forward. He could just barely make out the shape of giant black cylinders in the distance.
He figured out that the cylinders outlined the perimeter of the entire base, and they generate an anti-magic field. They were pretty impressive if Loki were honest. Anytime he tried to do magic a searing pain over came him, most of the pain concentrated on whatever part of his body he had tried to summon magic with. He had never encountered something quite like it. It put all of Asgard’s anti-magic equipment to shame. If he could just make a good bit past those cylinders he could teleport out of that hell hole.
All of a sudden, bullets were flying past him. Loki felt a violent pain in his back, the bullet easily going through his thin tunic. Thankfully, it missed his spine. The shock of it nearly made him fall, but he ignored it and went on. When he finally reached the cylinder, he came to a halt. The ground before him dropped into a steep incline. He couldn’t stop here, so he took a deep breath and then jumped. Landing on his feet, he started sliding down the slope. He tried to keep himself steady for as long as possible; he really didn’t want to topple down the rock.
However, the Norns were not on his side it seemed for his foot once again caught something and sent him spiraling. Everything around him blurred into a nauseating mess. All sense of direction became lost to him.
When he came to a stop, it took him a minute to realize he was lying face down on the ground. Once the world stopped spinning, he forced his arms to push himself up. He sat there for a moment to center himself. He tried to draw out his magic, but was met with resistance and stinging pain. How much range did those damn cylinders have? He needed to get further away, but he was exhausted.
Lucky for him, he got a source of motivation. The large mass of Chitauri soldiers charging down the cliff, most of them on the vehicles. Well, shit. He stood just to have his legs give out. The cries of the army got louder and louder. Loki’s fear started to overcome him. He was shaking and couldn’t get up. He felt some of the vehicles soar past him. He was surrounded. That was it. He was so close, but it wasn’t good enough. He was going to be dragged back to that hellscape.
Actually. No. Fuck that. He was going to get out of here or he was going to die trying. Either one would be better than that place.
He kept his head down and concentrated. Already, he could feel the burning pain all throughout himself, but he persisted. He pushed and clawed and fought with everything he had. The Chitauri dismounted their machines, but Loki didn’t notice. If He could just find a timeworn wormhole that leads far away, he could grab onto it and let it do the job of getting him out of there. There was quit a lot, but none seemed to be what he needed. They either didn’t go far or would take too much effort to use.
As the pain started to increase, he found one. He took hold of it and hung on with all he could manage. Just as the Chitauri were about to grab hold of him, Loki vanished from their sight.
Loki would’ve been proud of himself. That is, if he had not been completely overwhelmed by the mind-numbing pain he felt the second he started to teleport.