Chosen

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two: No More Secrets

"You're gonna die of fright. Here comes the razor's edge. You're livin' on the edge. Don't know wrong from right. They're breathin' down you're neck. You're runnin' out of lives." -AC/DC: The Razor's Edge. 

-

The Black Order released us from the force field not too long after they arrived. Thor had to keeps his hands raised as the three of us in suits had to hold out hands together in the air. The large squadron disbanded into a smaller group to take us as captives.

We walk at a steady pace down the passageway. We turn away from what was our original destination. We have to climb a few flights of stairs on our winding journey away from the headquarters. Six members lead us on our escort as six remain behind us with their guns pointed at our heads. They told us that if we make any little noise that they would kill us. I cannot switch my voice to only to connected lines without saying it out through the microphone. The only noise that can be heard from us is the sound of feet marching as we are taken hostage.

Even everyone on the other end is silent. Director Coulson does not say any word to us even though we would be able to hear him. The usual chatter and communication between everyone else seems to have ceased too. The only thing anyone can do right now is wait to see how this predicament plays out.

The men in front of us come to a halt. They unlock and open two doors that are a sleek metal but with foreign carvings in a banner running from the top to bottom of the door. The doors open smoothly and the troops begin walking once again. We are lead into a spacious room. My breath hitches in my throat when I see Captain Rogers, Bucky, Sam, Clint, and Natasha on their knees with intimidating guns pressed to the back of their necks. The doors close behind us as we are now imprisoned in this space.

The room does not appear to be the exact headquarters of this ship. The space is somewhat shaped like a cooking funnel. The widest part is the open space that our team finds ourselves standing or kneeling in. The part that gets smaller is the raised level in front of us. Then at the very back it narrows; not to where it is barely a crack, it is still the size of an average bedroom. There are not rows and rows of control panels. There are no personnel running around here. There is nothing that is required to control such a massive spaceship in this room.

As mentioned earlier, the room is divided by a raised second level that makes up the back one-third of the room. The large, light grey, metal tiles expand across the floor space. Behind me, at the front of the room, is a wall of windows that overlook part of the spacecraft but more importantly space itself. An elongated desk sits centered at the front of the step. It holds a large screen in its top table and various other technological tools. Behind the table is the peculiar room. The only furniture in the room is a large chair that much resembles a throne. No one currently is seated in the throne, but that does not imply that the leader is out sick today.

A man steps into the room from the other side door. All of the Black Order members straighten their posture as he walks across to us. "My, look who showed up at my doorstep today," His deep, raspy voice makes my heart stops beating.

I know him.

"Never did I think we would ever meet face to face. I have to admit, you surprised me by showing the gallantry to find our headquarters and make your way in," He steps into better lighting.

I am thankful this man is not as terrifying-looking as Corvus, but his appearance does not appear friendly. His skin is an unusual shade of ivory. He has a narrow, elongated face that is etched with sharp wrinkles. His white hair that comes to a sharp widow's peak pushed backwards. His eyes seem to be blue glowing orbs. He does not have a protruding nose at all and has no distinguishable lips. His long, limber limbs move gracefully as he carries himself with pride.