After his little performance, Loki turned his gaze to Fury, who lay on the floor, battered and bloodied.
At first, Loki's expression darkened at Fury's words, but the sight of the S.H.I.E.L.D. director lying there, clothes torn, blood staining the ground, forced to look up just to meet Loki's eyes, brought a smile to his face.
Loki tilted his chin up, pride infusing his words as he retorted, "You fail to appreciate the greatness of this moment, but I don't blame you. After all, you are just a mortal."
"My greatness is not easily perceived by mere mortals. Only those who follow me can understand even a fraction of it."
Fury's fingers curled—not in anger or pain, but in a strange reaction to Loki's words. It was a feeling he'd never experienced so intensely in all his years as a spy. He couldn't quite remember the word for it, but he knew one that fit Loki perfectly: *cringe*.
He'd only seen children behave like this before, and back then, it hadn't bothered him. But seeing a grown man act in such a way was completely different.
With an expressionless face, Fury looked at Loki with his one eye and said, "You're a grown man, and all I hear is a child playing make-believe."
"Ha! A king? You're just a false god, too blind to grasp reality."
Loki's smile disappeared, his face darkening. In a flash, he kicked Fury hard in the stomach, sending him flying through the tunnel until he slammed into one of the walls.
Though Loki's body appeared slim and almost delicate, his strength far surpassed that of any normal human—something Fury learned the hard way.
"Urgh!"
Fury grunted in pain as he hit the tunnel wall, sliding down until he lay on the cold ground. He clutched his side, feeling the ache from the impact.
Seeing Fury suffer seemed to lift Loki's mood, a condescending smirk creeping back onto his face. "I don't need to waste my time here any longer. I've already got what I wanted."
Loki sauntered over to Fury, placing a foot on his chest and applying pressure bit by bit.
"I don't need anyone to understand me—not you, not anyone else. In the end, the only purpose of you mortals is to serve me, whether you want to or not."
"Urgh!"
The pressure on Fury's chest caused excruciating pain, making it difficult for him to breathe as the force prevented his lungs from expanding.
The more Fury suffered, the wider Loki's smirk grew.
"And you... you're not even worthy of serving me! Your only fate is to be buried here, alongside this crumbling base."
Loki pressed down harder until Fury's face turned from pale to purple. Fury clawed desperately at Loki's boot, but his efforts were futile. He was no match for the strength of an alien god.
After all the lives Fury had taken in his missions, he could hardly believe that his own life would end under the heel of an alien.
Seeing Fury's eye bulging with bloodshot veins, his face purple like an overripe eggplant, and his desperate struggle to free himself, Loki let out a manic laugh.
"Hahahaha! Struggle more! Fight more! In the end, this is all you can do. You're nothing but an ant beneath my foot!"
Loki's face twisted with a sadistic glee, reveling in the power of holding another's life in his hands like it was mere dust on the wind.
Before he could lose himself further in this twisted pleasure, a hand touched his right shoulder.
Anger flared inside Loki—someone dared to interrupt him. He turned, ready to strike, but paused when he saw who it was: Barton, the Hawkeye.
Seeing that it was his obedient servant, Loki forced himself to calm down, letting his expression return to its usual haughty demeanor.
"Why did you stop me? Do you still have feelings for your old comrade?" Loki sneered.
Hawkeye immediately dropped to one knee before Loki, his head bowed in submission.
"N-no, my king, I hold no feelings at all!" Barton stammered.
"Then what is it? It had better be important, or you will face the consequences of interrupting me."
"It's just that, my king... the self-destruct countdown for this base is almost up!" Barton reported, urgency in his voice.
Hearing this, Loki made a decision. "You should have told me that sooner!" he snapped.
"But—" Barton tried to explain but was cut off by Loki's impatience.
"Enough! I don't want to hear it! Let's leave this place."
Loki removed his foot from Fury's chest and turned toward one of the cars that his controlled soldiers had prepared.
Gasping for air, Fury's chest heaved as he lay on the ground.
*Huff! Huff! Huff!*
The sudden release of pressure from his lungs felt like a painful rush, but he knew one thing for sure: If Hawkeye hadn't intervened, he'd be dead right now.
*Huff! Huff!*
"Y-you... you won't succeed in whatever you're planning," Fury wheezed through gritted teeth.
*Huff*
"This world is far stronger than you think. Its people will stop you, no matter what."
"Earth is not yours to conquer!"
Loki's response was a cold, dismissive smile.
"Heh... They can try. But an ant's struggle means nothing to me."
With that, Loki climbed into the waiting car and finally left the base that was moments away from destruction.
Seeing them leave, Fury pulled out a strange syringe from one of his coat pockets and plunged it into his leg.
"Urgh!"
He groaned, not from the needle's sting, but from the burning sensation of the serum spreading through his veins.
The syringe contained an emergency stimulant—a form of first aid almost never used by S.H.I.E.L.D. due to its harsh side effects. But Fury couldn't afford to care about side effects now.
The base was seconds away from self-destruction, and if he didn't hurry, he'd be buried beneath rubble and debris.
After a few agonizing moments, the serum took effect. It didn't heal his injuries, but it gave him just enough strength to get up and find a way out before the base went up in flames.