Labyrinth: Chapter Two

“Wake up.”

A faint voice stirred at the edge of her consciousness.

“Wake up!”

Emma opened her eyes—or she thought she did. She couldn’t tell, for she was enveloped in total darkness. She felt numb, confused. Where was she, and how had she gotten here?

She was hauled roughly to her feet, and she became vaguely aware of an iron grip on both of her arms. But that was not all. There were…chains on her wrists. Loose, heavy, clanging. They hurt.

“Keep walking,” a male voice hissed in her ear, ushering her impatiently forward.

A flash in her mind. Screaming metal. A man tossed against the car's frame like a rag doll.

Emma gasped, freezing in midstep, but they dragged her on. Blinking, she felt cloth brush across her skin—a blindfold. She was a prisoner. Heavy footsteps echoed through silent halls. Doors clanged open, and they passed through them.

Finally, they led her down a set of stairs and placed her forcefully in a chair. The iron fingers released her, and she sat, unmoving, for several minutes. Her heart pounded inside her chest. Steve, Clint, Maximoff…had they survived? Emma could sense the two men standing silently behind her, and she knew that they must be waiting for someone else to arrive…an interrogator, perhaps.

A door creaked open. Boots clicked on stone, drawing nearer, before coming to an abrupt halt.

“Leave us.”

The voice was deep, authoritative. Emma lifted her face towards its source, though she still couldn’t see anything. She heard the two guards stride past her and exit the room, the door clanging loudly behind them. There was a pause—utterly silent. Bracing herself, Emma awaited whatever tortures were to come.

“You’re welcome,” the voice said suddenly.

It was bait—she knew this. “For what?”

“If it weren’t for me, you and your friends would have died in that crash,” the man answered smugly. “Your own government trying to kill you…after all you’ve done for them?”

“So my friends are alive,” she stated, her spirits lifting slightly.

“For now.”

Emma clenched her jaw. “Why save us, only to make us your prisoners?”

“It doesn’t have to be that way…” he began, slowly circling her chair. “You see, I’m offering you a deal. A partnership, if you will.”

“What kind of deal?”

The man paused briefly. “Something is coming, something that will destroy everything we’ve ever known. Your world, my world…hangs in the balance. I’m asking you to help me save the galaxy—the entire universe—from utter destruction.”

Bewildered, Emma shook her head. “Who are you?”

Suddenly, cold fingers snatched the blindfold from her face, and she blinked profusely, her eyes adjusting to the lesser darkness. Slowly, her vision cleared, and she finally saw him. Tall and lean, but muscular, with a chiseled jawline, sharp cheekbones, and shoulder-length black hair. His blue eyes gleamed in the darkness.

Failing to hide her surprise, Emma’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. It was Loki!

“You…” she snarled, anger flaring inside her. “You have some nerve. You really think that I would agree to help you after what you did to New York?!”

“I am the lesser of two evils,” he replied calmly. “You need me to save your people from extinction, and I need you to provide me with information that I desperately need.”

“Thanks for the offer,” she answered curtly, “but I think the Avengers are doing just fine saving the world on their own.”

“Not anymore,” he uttered darkly.

Emma’s face fell, her lips pressed tightly together.

“They are rotting behind bars,” he continued, “held as prisoners by the same people they are so eager to protect.”

“Why bring me here?” she demanded. “You could’ve chosen anyone.”

“You know what it takes to win a war,” Loki answered, “and you’re willing to do it. I’ve seen your record. Nearly a hundred assassinations…powerful politicians disappearing without a trace…and you were never caught.”

Warily, she met his gaze. “I did what I did to protect people.”

“Exactly,” he said, a gleam in his eye. “You sacrificed a few to save many. That is the mentality we need to survive what is to come.”

“And what about my friends?” questioned Emma. “How do they feel about this?”

“They have refused my assistance,” he responded flatly. “They will not help us.”

Hesitantly, she looked at him. “What do you want me to do?”