Lords of Shadow

Convicted

"Why are you here, kid?"

"Who the hell are you?"

"Did you kill this beast?"

The questioning voices sounded deep and distant. His body shook, swaying left and right as his vision blurred, and slowly, his consciousness did too.

---

Camping in nature was supposed to be a fun weekend activity, or something of that sort. But this was just diabolical.

Loki woke up on the wet wooden floor like a fish on the butchering table. His hands were tied behind his back with strong ropes, and he could already see some body marks as a sign of improper handling.

Worse, he was in more pain than he had ever been in his life, so much so that he almost felt like his body wasn't his. But where was the sense in that?

The entire thing was unreasonable, maybe not to normal people, but he had already grown slightly accustomed to having numbness instead of pain.

Every square inch of his flesh felt like it was being pounded by hammers, having him struggle to remain awake.

He turned his head slowly, relieved when he saw his shadow. Or a stretched-out smudge. His sight was a bit blurry, so he couldn't be sure, but the bee kind of looked like something else.

But it was still there, so why wasn't it doing its work? If anything, it looked tired and done in.

His memory kicked in at this moment. He had been in a fight and had ended it with a new addition. Was it the absorption that was causing this?

The more he thought, the more questions he got, and the more unwilling he was to think further.

All he could do was wait and hope that bad matters didn't become worse. If the militants had seen his shadow while transporting him, it definitely would. Although some of them would be more puzzled and afraid.

Loki bit his tongue. The bee didn't vacuum the pain away, but the sharpness of it pushed his alertness up a notch. He wanted to rest, but realised that if he wasted this moment, the next opportunity for escape would probably be through paperwork, if there would be any at all.

A good distance away, he heard the background noise of relatively quiet activity. This was probably the outpost they failed to reach, or the rig they were assigned to. He hadn't seen the environs, so he could not say for certain.

Loki pushed himself up, but without proper muscle positioning, he didn't even lift off. To start it off, he would have to free himself, then find a way to escape.

Doing that would be more remarkable than the train station saga, especially since the militants wouldn't have to hold back on the basis of rules of engagement.

Loki had to admit that he had only got off as well as he did because the militants didn't want to explain why they killed someone they didn't see. Here, they could bury him in soil and end the incident.

Loki looked around for what to use, but the room was empty, except for the meal the last person who entered here ate, and it seemed they weren't trying to be civil about it.

Cold air streamed in from the window, blowing against his bare chest, as the militants had, for some reason, taken his shirt.

If only he could shut the window, but it didn't have that provision, and seemed too jagged to.

"That's it," he said as his eyes lit up.

The window was closed off with iron bars, most rusted from rain, and some broken by rebellious captives, probably from other countries.

And that was the shiv that infrastructure had provided. He sat up and inched to a standing position by pushing his butt against the wall. He had been taking things lightly, considering the broken state of his body, but there was a time for everything.

It took a bit of finesse to catch the rope again the sharp edges, but after puncturing himself a few times, he got it threaded away by back-and-forth scraping.

With that out of the way, he had to find a way to check the second task off his objectives list. That was escape, but he would start with this cell first, then the facility.

He couldn't break the door or walls, or even the window, considering the noise it would make, and the fact that he wasn't strong enough without help.

Speaking of help, he turned back to his shadow, having his sight restored to its former peak, and had his mouth hang open in shock at what he saw.

His bee shadow... wasn't a bee anymore.

It was a wasp, and a big one!

Loki slowly approached to study it. It didn't buzz as violently as the bee had– although it still had its edge– instead, it floated in its point with a sort of discipline, only hindered by the will of its wielder.

Its size was about one and a half times the bee, and its stinger was no longer undefined.

That explained it. He had experienced what he had because of the evolution process, temporarily shutting the shadow down until it was back up again as a new creature.

A smug look crept up his face. He was right to come here, even if it had been the same him that had thought it a bad idea, and Elvis too.

Shadows gave him a bigger boon than pain, and as he thought about it, he reasoned it was probably the only way for him to ascend, and not just improve at where he was.

Now, he had a heavy question weighing on his mind. Did the wasp have new powers? Improvements of the old? Or just the same?

He would figure that out with Elvis when he got back. He pulled on the familiarity, switching his shadow back on, and in that moment, he felt...numb.

That was the real pain. No experience, just results. Still, he did feel the power rushing through him, and definitely, part of it was here to stay.

Pain energy was no doubt flowing too, so he couldn't waste time staring at himself and wondering if he looked more muscular. He held onto a bar of the cell window and ripped it off.

It was jagged and rusted, perfect for ruthless takedowns. After that, all he needed to do was wait.

And he didn't need to wait long. A quarter of an hour later, he heard footsteps slushing in mud, heading his way. A militant was coming to check on him, and he was going to prove how okay he was.

He took his stance behind the door and waited for it to open, and once it did:

"Are y–"

He drove the rusted bar into the man's abdomen, dragging him in and placing a hand over his mouth before he could scream.

The shock hadn't died down when Loki drew the bar out like it was an awakening ceremony. He drew his hands back, and as he thrust for the neck, he muttered:

"I'm sorry..."