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*****
With the Tesseract right before his eyes, Fyne hesitated for a split second. He was genuinely concerned that the Space Stone might pull another fast one on him, just like last time.
But the hesitation was fleeting. Fyne lunged toward the cube. Last time, he had been snatched away without any warning; this time, he was prepared. If the stone tried anything, he was confident he had the time to either resist or retreat.
Loki was just as fast. Seeing Fyne move, he pivoted instantly and launched an attack.
Since firing energy from the Scepter required a brief moment of charging, Loki didn't use the staff. Instead, he flicked his wrist, sending several small, shuriken-like projectiles whistling through the air.
Fyne didn't even bother to dodge. He let Incursio take the hit. After a series of sharp metallic clangs, the daggers fell to the floor, failing to leave even a scratch on the silver armor.
Fyne finally reached the Tesseract. Just as he bent down to seize it, Loki materialized directly in front of him, thrusting the tip of the Scepter toward his chest.
Fyne could ignore throwing knives, but he wasn't about to gamble with a staff powered by the Mind Stone. He couldn't be certain if his mind would be affected through the armor—or worse, if Incursio itself could be subverted.
Forgoing the cube, Fyne threw himself backward, simultaneously firing an Explosion Magic blast at Loki's face.
The fire pillar tore through Loki, but Fyne realized instantly that he had hit nothing but air—it was an afterimage.
Fyne had to admit, he was impressed by Loki's mastery of illusions. The man didn't just call himself the "Greatest Sorcerer in the Nine Realms" out of sheer ignorance; he truly did have a few signature tricks up his sleeve.
Fyne's forced retreat gave Loki the opening he needed. With a swift roll, Loki scooped the Tesseract off the floor.
He looked slightly disheveled, but as he stood up—Scepter in his right hand and the Tesseract in his left—holding two of the universe's most powerful Infinity Stones, his expression turned insufferably arrogant.
"You are not like the others!"
With the cube safely in his possession, Loki seemed much more relaxed. He looked at Fyne, clearly intending to talk.
Having spent months on Vormir with only the Red Skull for company, Fyne was in no hurry to end the conversation either. "How so?" he asked.
"You have the potential to be a god," Loki said, his voice dripping with seductive charm. "I am Loki, of Asgard. I am your god, and I have come here burdened with a glorious purpose that your kind cannot possibly comprehend."
"Stop right there!"
Fyne wanted to chat, but he didn't want to listen to Loki's practiced monologue. "I know all about Asgard, I know exactly who you are, and I know what you're trying to do."
"So, listen to me: you won't succeed. Earth isn't as simple as you think, and we aren't as weak as we look. Just hand over the cube and the staff. In a little while, your brother will come down and take you home. Do it now, and you won't have to deal with a beating so bad it leaves you with lifelong trauma."
Fyne's bluntness left Loki stunned. Even Nick Fury, standing nearby, looked caught off guard.
But Loki wasn't about to abandon his grand design because of a few words—especially when he knew exactly how terrifying the benefactor who sent him was.
"I thought you were special," Loki sighed, sounding genuinely disappointed.
"Let me remind you one more time," Fyne countered. "Even Thanos isn't necessarily eager to set foot on Earth himself. So be a good boy, leave the toys behind, and surrender."
Fyne had been lonely for far too long. In the past, he would have skipped the talk and just ground his enemies into the dirt.
At the mention of that name, Loki's face paled instantly. Confusion flashed in his eyes; he couldn't fathom how this armored Midgardian knew about him.
Furthermore, it dawned on him: why had Fyne emerged from the portal alongside him in the first place?
Seeing Loki's rattled expression, Nick Fury felt a sudden surge of sympathy. He knew without a doubt that whatever Fyne had said was true—and that it had shaken the intruder to his core.
Fury felt a strange sense of kinship; finally, someone else could experience the feeling of being completely blindsided by Fyne's knowledge.
"Listen, 'God' from outer space," Fury said, his confidence bolstered by Fyne's presence. "Regardless of where you're from, while you're on Earth, you'd best follow our rules!"
"Boom!"
The response didn't come from Fury, but from another of Fyne's Explosion Magic blasts.
While Fyne missed talking to people, he had no patience for Loki's nonsense. He decided it was time to wrap this up and go home to see how things had changed.
Loki rolled away, narrowly avoiding the blast.
He wasn't entirely sure he could take Fyne down, and since he already had what he came for, he saw no point in staying. Once he achieved his goal and the army arrived, he could simply wear Fyne down through attrition.
Loki was actually much more familiar with the Tesseract than he was with the Scepter. He had studied the cube in the archives of Asgard. Though he had never used it personally, he knew enough to operate it.
"We shall meet again!"
Just as Fyne prepared to go all out, Loki used the Tesseract to tear open a blue rift in space and vanished through it.
Fyne stood frozen as the portal winked out of existence.
He hadn't expected Loki to flee so abruptly. Unlike the sling-ring portals of Kamar-Taj, the Tesseract's spatial jumps left no trail for him to follow.
However, Fyne didn't let it bother him for long. Loki couldn't leave Earth. As long as he was on the planet, they would find him sooner or later. As for the alien army—if war was inevitable, then war it would be.
Fyne refused to believe that if New York was saved in the original timeline without him, they could possibly lose now that he was here with full knowledge of the plot and significant combat power.
"Where did he go?"
Fury hurried to Fyne's side, scanning the room.
"How should I know?" Fyne looked at the director—at the familiar bald head and the iconic eyepatch. He let out a long, weary sigh. "Long time no see, Director Fury."
Fury blinked, then slowly holstered his weapon. Looking at Fyne, who appeared almost exactly as he had when he left, he extended a hand. "Long time no see. Welcome back."
Fyne didn't take the hand immediately. He stared at Fury for a moment before saying, "Before I left, I believe the rate we agreed upon was a million dollars a day."
"It's been over five months. I'll be generous and round it down to exactly five months. Don't you think it's time we settled the tab?"
Nick Fury silently withdrew his hand. He glanced at Clint Barton, who was busy pretending to see and hear absolutely nothing, and replied, "We can discuss that later. First, let's talk about where exactly you've been 'playing hooky' all this time."
(End of Chapter)