Deep in space.
There was nothing here. No light, no sound.
Loki's body drifted through the darkness. The explosion of the Bifrost had torn apart his shield, and the cold and vacuum were draining away the last of his divine power. His consciousness began to blur, and his body slowly stiffened.
He was about to die.
Then, the darkness before him split open.
Beyond that opening was a fleet. Monsters pieced together from meteors and metal, silently docked in the void.
Several dark figures flew out of the rift, seized him, and dragged him inside.
He was thrown before Wong's throne. The throne was made of black stone, and a massive shadow sat upon it, as huge as a mountain. Just sitting there, it made Loki feel unable to breathe.
A gaunt alien walked up to him, its voice dry and rasping.
"Wong's prince of Asgard," the creature said. "You want a throne."
Loki struggled to lift his head, his eyes filled with hatred. "I was meant to be Wong."
"Your hatred, your resentment—we felt them." Its voice carried a tempting quality. "My master is willing to give you an opportunity."
The alien extended a three-fingered hand and pointed to the side. A scepter floated there, its gemstone glowing blue.
"This scepter will give you power. And an army—the Chitauri. They will crush everything for you and obey only your commands."
Loki's breathing grew heavier.
"And the price?" He was not that foolish.
"Very simple." The alien pulled a hideous smile. "On Earth, there is something called the Cosmic Cube. Your father hid it there. Bring it back, and in return, Earth will be yours."
"You will become the god of Wong's kingdom."
Loki stared at the scepter. He thought of Thor, and Odin saying, "No, Loki."
Hatred and ambition