This wine really packed a punch.
Before Skywalker Winery began selling alcohol to Asgard, its residents had been devoted drinkers, but they mostly drank mead. Even the strongest of it was only 40% alcohol.
Later, when alcohol from Midgard reached Asgard through Vanaheim, most people still couldn't get used to it. Only a few acquired a taste for vodka and tequila.
Loki wasn't one of them. Even when he spent an evening with Thor's friends, he would usually nurse a single drink all night, lifting it to his lips for the occasional sip.
As a sorcerer, he needed to keep his mind clear, not get drunk and make a spectacle of himself like his idiot brother.
So when that bottle of medical alcohol went down, it took effect quickly. Factory first-aid kits generally stocked large bottles of rubbing alcohol, and with the steadiness and strength of Ultron's arms, every drop had gone straight down Loki's throat.
His vision blurred and his tongue grew stiff. Loki blinked furiously, but his mind kept sinking deeper into a haze.
Ultron gave a mechanical laugh. Loki had tried luring it away, sneaking past it, and drawing its attention elsewhere, but Ultron had seen through every trick.
Ultron had needed only one trick of its own: turn Loki's scheme against him. The alcohol had dulled the alien's mind, and now it was time to reap the rewards.
Did Loki really think Ultron didn't use the Internet? While still in the laboratory, it had downloaded every work on strategy and tactics available on Earth. That was the advantage of electronic intelligence: carbon-based lifeforms couldn't begin to match its learning speed.
Since leaving Pym's laboratory, Ultron had been hiding in this abandoned factory outside New York, methodically gathering intelligence and downloading whatever knowledge it needed.
It had