Loki After Endgame: Cheating Death

Chap 22: Fight or Flight

Loki:

White hot rage surges through me and suddenly I'm speeding towards the men with my sword Laevateinn drawn; my fingers itching for a fight. When I reach them, I let my glamoured invisibility fade away and use the element of surprise as I swing my new sword forwards, viciously cutting two men half. Quickly I cast a spell that will wake Kamilla up and give her a burst of supernatural strength to counteract her sluggish movements from Eitri's armor. Then I thrust my sword into the Kree that is dashing towards me and twist, before yanking it out with a thwack. The Kree crumples to the ground at my feet at the same time that I feel a painful blow at my back. I spin swiftly with my sword extended and promptly relieve my attacker of his head.

I grin to myself, enjoying the raging thrill of battle. I cut down a Krylorian fighter by leaping nimbly over the dead bodies and plunging my sword into his exposed pink stomach. His mouth gasps in a surprised expression as he tries vainly to staunch the bleeding. With a flick of my finger I knock him to the ground ruthlessly, grinning all the while, as my adrenaline spikes. I hear Kamilla grunt angrily as she clambors to her feet behind me, she's using blasts of magic to knock the Kree's and Krylorian's down, with more fervor and fury than before. Another angry Kree in a military uniform rushes me, his broad form towering a foot above me, but I dodge him gracefully and lurch forwards when he least expects it. I thrust my sword at his side and eagerly slice the Kree in half as Kamilla conjures two flaming swords and positions herself so that her back is against mine. The remaining Kree fighters continue to lunge at us furiously, shooting beams of light from high-tech guns I don't recognize, but Kamilla and I dodge them effortlessly as if in a synchronized dance. I cast another spell that wraps Kamilla and I both in a bubble-like magical shield that blocks the blasts from their military issued weapons. Back to back we tear mercilessly through the remaining men; fighting in sync, cutting down each of them as they approach until there is nothing but bloody, disembodied limbs dripping at our feet. The familiar stench of blood and death fills my nostrils as I take a satisfied breath. I roll my shoulders back and let out a proud, hearty laugh, it's been a long time since I've had a proper fight. Then I spin around and watch Kamilla, feeling slightly fascinated as she pants and vanishes her fiery swords.

"Fuck man. Of course there are slave traders in space! Fucking of course!" She mutters irritably, her eyes flashing with pent-up rage.

My gods, she's absolutely mad!
"What the hell was that?! Have you lost your mind?!" I exclaim.
"By the Norns Strange was right, you are insanely reckless!" I hiss, even though I can't help but admire her utter madness; that fight was absolutely exhilarating.

I feel myself beginning to drift down from the intoxicating high of battle, and ask, "Did you really think that with your heavy armor slowing you down, you could actually win a fight against so many?"

"My armor is not slowing me down!" The Little Witch snaps defensively. Then she stills herself and takes a deep breath, while wiping the sweat from her brow.  "Well, I guess I didn't think. I just reacted. All I could think about was ending them all."

"To save a child?" I give her a patronizingly vicious smile, even though I am truly baffled. She fought so thoughtlessly, like an animal suddenly loosed from it's cage; fangs bared, wild and feral. As if another person entirely, I know there's more to the story. There's something she's not telling me.

"Abso-fucking-lutly." Her face shutters closed as she stomps to the food aisle, stuffing a paper bag with food. "Supplies for two, my ass." She mutters under her breath, followed by some other curses I don't recognize.

At the mention of her ass, I realize that I'm now staring at her backside, as if in a daze. I shake myself loose and pick up my bag of supplies that I left by the door. "You need to learn to control your temper. You can't keeping losing yourself to rage." I command.