#(...it was the mention of the red velvet looking ant that tipped me off for that book. iunno why.)

[fuzzlespup]

TALLAHASSEE MENTIONED!!!!!!!

"Interstellar Guide to the Planet Earth" by TJ Klune

By the end of this guide, you will have been given the tools in order to safely and carefully visit Earth. If you should have further questions, please see Glorbak the Destroyer of Worlds, who will be happy to answer any inquiries you may have.

Remember: Exploration is the key to survival!

1.   You meant to travel to the HUMAN LAND OF DEARBORNE MICHIGAN, but because of the bending of space and time, you accidentally ended up in the dark place known as TALLAHASEE FLORIDA. Do not fret! Though Florida is considered an area where dreams go to die (also see THE HUMAN LAND OF TEXAS), there are many wonderful things to discover, such as bugs, humidity, reptiles and HUMANS called JESSICA who chew loudly while running a business called a NAIL SALON. This is used to sharpen the talons of humans, and to paint them different colors. Though not much is known about this tradition, it is thought that it grants powers to the HUMANS who visit this establishment.

2.   Oh no! While exploring the HUMAN LAND OF NORTH YORKSHIRE ENGLAND, you happen to see a GREY disguised as a chimney sweep. As you are well aware, GREYS are an odious species whose entire way of life is built around anal probing. Though we have a treaty with the GREYS, it is important to remember that anal probing does not provide any scientific and/or medical knowledge. Given that the GREYS have the technology to do non-invasive full body scans, it’s unknown why they continue to proceed through the back entrance. If you come across a GREY preparing to do just that, please remind them that it is against RULE 5#$7^45J to proceed with anal probing without the expressed permission of the one being probed. Consent is important no matter what part of the universe you are in!

"Interstellar Guide to the Planet Earth" by TJ Klune

3.   HUMAN HOLES. Though it may seem disgusting to an elevated species, HUMANS evolved to have multiple holes in their bodies. Do not be scared! These are imperative to their survival. We have already discussed one hole (the anus), but did you know that humans have several more? The most diabolical is the hole in the top parts of their bodies, otherwise known as a MOUTH. Inside the MOUTH is a wet piece of muscle surrounded by shards of bone that pierce through the flesh. This is, as far as we can tell, a “feeding hole”, the bones used to break up sustenance, and the muscle inside swirls it around. In addition, there are glands in the MOUTH HOLE that create lubrication. It is unknown if this lubricant is poisonous. If you should see a HUMAN leaking lubricant from its MOUTH HOLE, it is either a) hungry or b) getting ready to attack. One line of thought is that the lubrication allows HUMANS to breathe fire, though no evidence of this has been noted.

4.   Most HUMANS have communication devices they carry around with them at all times. Interestingly, these devices seem to have an unintended consequence: not one of them could survive without it. If, on the off chance, you find yourself surrounded by a mob of HUMANS CARRYING TORCHES AND PITCHFORKS, tell them you are going to take their communication devices away. Most likely, they will crumble and dissolve into LEAKING LUBRICANT FROM THEIR EYE HOLES, begging you not to do what you said. Some have suggested that the HUMAN’S life forces are tethered to these devices, and if they are taken away, there is a chance the HUMANS will turn feral.

5.   And finally, the most important: DO NOT ASK HUMANS WHO THEY VOTED FOR. On Earth, people “choose” their leaders on a special day filled with love and celebration and good feelings. However, the HUMANS elected are oft considered “really bad at their job” and “unable to speak in coherent sentences.” In a fascinating turn of events, the HUMANS appear to be rare creatures who are somewhat advanced, but also continually make terrible decisions just because they’re mad about certain things that have no basis in reality. If you do make the mistake of asking a HUMAN who they voted for, chances are you will be stuck in a conversation that will last as long as the life of a star. The only way to get out of said conversation is to announce you voted for the other leader running in the election. This will most likely incense the speaker to say things like, “DAMN YOU, YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING BUT YOURSELF” before leaving. Congratulations, you survived an encounter!

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Escape

Summary: The Red Room haunts you, from the moment you stepped foot inside to long after you’ve left. Truth is, you don’t think there is any escaping it.

Warnings: 18+ Violence, Depression, Mentions of Death, Smut

Chapter 13

******

The tool in your hand hums just barely as it melts the metals together, effectively sealing the band to the watch face. You slide it over to cool beside the others.

Across from you, Tony assembles the suits, synthesizing it with the nanotech. Schematics of Scott’s Ant-Man suit hover above the table alongside one of Rocket and Nebula’s space suits.

Just a few hours ago everyone gathered to speak with Tony and came up with an actual plan. It included gathering a team, as it usually does. 

The beginnings of the team were easy to pull together. One simple call from Natasha had Rocket and Nebula flying back to earth in a couple hours, followed by Rhodey who had to finish up some business. She couldn’t reach Carol through normal communications, instead using the advanced pager they found from Fury years ago, she’d yet to show up. 

From there, they got the run down of the plan and their current assignments. Rocket and Bruce were tasked with going to get Thor. Rhodey had also informed you and Natasha of Clint’s future whereabouts.

The man was headed to Tokyo, hunting down a prominent member of the Yakuza.

You’d been ready to go with Natasha but she told you she had to bring him in alone. Despite your worry, you trust her, and let her go get her best friend.

Steve, Scott, and Rhodey were somewhere around here, no doubt hashing out more details of the plan. And Nebula was all over, occasionally stopping by to offer help to you and Tony. You were impressed with her knowledge of the tech and listened intently to the tips she gave.

Right now though, she isn’t around. 

Led Zeppelin blares from the speakers above, setting the lab in a familiar work environment. If it weren’t Tony you’d have complained about it, with him you don’t mind. 

While the two of you chat on and off, you actively avoid speaking about the Time Heist. Focusing instead on your separate projects or your families. 

Tony rolls his eyes as he mentions Morgan still wanting to play superheroes and Pepper wanting your red velvet cupcake recipe. 

As normal as the conversation is, it makes you wonder about the outcome of this whole thing. 

You’d yet to have children with the woman you love and while she makes up your family, there’s still the want of children, which could possibly not happen. Nothing is set in stone but the fear is there.

Tony suddenly pushes himself away from the suits,“ I’m gonna need some more coffee, these four can be linked to the watches. You want some more coffee?”

Shaking your head, you watch Tony leave out, before focusing back on the work. By the time you’re finished, six of the eleven suits are ready. You make sure the nanotech is secured in the watches. 

Needing Tony to finish the last five before you can finish the watches, you leave out the lab. 

Walking through the compound, you notice the added presences. Thor who doesn’t look so well and Clint. He looks different from the pictures you’d seen. Apart from the new haircut, the exhaustion and pain is clearly written on his face. 

The God of Thunder, noticing your appearance, exclaims your name. His heavy set form staggers over to you, crumbs sit in his beard along with droplets of beer.

“Hey pal.” You reciprocate his one armed hug, making sure his mess doesn’t transfer to your body.

“Ah, it-it’s so good to see you old friend. Join me in the kitchen for a drink.” He slurs.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there buddy. Drink a water in the mean time.” You instruct.

His mumble of something Vodka related doesn’t miss you but you don’t react, instead shaking your head, and focusing on the shorter brunette man that approaches. 

Clint stops in front of you, eyes scanning your form, before settling on your eyes as he speaks,“ you must be Y/N.”

“That I am. Pleasure to meet you Clint, Tasha speaks highly of you.” He shakes the hand you’ve offered.

“Nat’s told me a bit about you as well.” There’s a brief pause,“ I’m glad she’s found someone. Thank you for making her happy.”

You smile softly, warmed at the obvious love he has for Natasha. He’s hurting but still has enough care in himself to be happy for Natasha. 

“Speaking of, you know where she disappeared to?” Eyes search the vicinity for her red hair.

“No, she didn’t say and I didn’t see her.”

With a nod, you excuse yourself and head off to find her. You check the most obvious spots: her office, the training room, and your shared room. Not finding her there, you check her room.

Quiet sniffles hit your ears on entry. Instantly going into “wife” mode, you look to comfort her. 

She’s leaning over the bathroom sink, face buried in her hands, as her shoulders shake with her cries.

“Tasha, love what’s wrong?” You ask, stopping at the bathroom doorway, noticing her freeze up.

No reply comes for a moment, only for her to move toward you and wrap her arms around you. You instantly return the embrace, holding her close in hopes of making her feel better.

Whatever she mumbles into your shoulder, you don’t hear it.

“Gonna need you to speak up baby.” You whisper quietly. 

“Don’t hate me.” She speaks up, though it’s still muffled.

“We need to go through a hell of a lot of shit before I could even consider disliking you. Hating you sounds impossible.” You reassure her.“ Why would I?”

She pulls away from you, walking around you, and back into the bedroom. E/C eyes follow her movements, taking in the nervous wring of her fingers, and her nibbling on her bottom lip.

“I should’ve told you sooner. I forgot myself.”

“I’d love to know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m pregnant.” She sighs, eyes trained on the floor.

Her words circle the room, getting louder, before entering your ears, and then settling in your brain. 

She’s pregnant.

There’s a baby inside of her.

Your wife is having a baby. 

Your baby.

By the time you’re ready to reply, tears are rolling down her face, dropping off her cheeks to the floor. 

Stepping closer to her, you gently grasp her hands in yours,“ you’re pregnant?”

Confusion flickers in her eyes when she sees the pure euphoria written in yours. She frowns,“ yes.”

“We’re gonna be parents?”

Despite her confirming it multiple times you’re still in shock.

“We are.”

A shriek leaves her lips as you pull her into another hug. Spinning her around excitedly, before setting her down, and peppering kisses all over her face and neck.

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes. 

“Wait, when did you find out? When did you even have the procedure? Are they healthy?”

She chuckles, still a little confused,“ I went to see the doctor before we got back. I got the procedure about two months ago. And yes, they are very healthy. She said that at nine weeks they already have little hands and little feet and they’re developing toes and fingers.”

The more she spoke about the baby the harder it was to hold back the tears. By the time she’s done, they’re cascading down your cheeks.

“You’re happy about this?” She asks after you’re brief silence.

“God, of course I am.” You pull her into a kiss, certain that your love and excitement pours through it,“ I love you so much, you are my world Tasha. How could I be anything but happy about you being pregnant with our child.”

You kiss again, initiated by her. She mumbles that she loves you over and over after each kiss. 

Before she can even allow another apology to leave, you’re kneeling in front of her. As slowly and gently as ever, you raise the bottom of her shirt.

How could you not have noticed? You’ve seen her body more times than you can count, yet you missed the slight bump growing at her abdomen. And now that you know all the signs are obvious. 

The random disappearance? She went to see Tony and the doctor for the procedure. Only eating peanut butter sandwiches and ice cream? Cravings. Sleeping longer and still being so tired along with all the mood swings? The pregnancy. 

“I can’t wait to meet you little one.” Natasha had seen how soft and loving you could be with her. This was completely new.“ I’m going to do everything that I can to make sure I’m the mom that you deserve. I’ve known about you all of five minutes and I’m so ready to give you the world.” 

You feel Natasha’s fingers comb through your hair as you press a kiss on the growing bump. 

She genuinely believed you’d be angry at her for keeping it from you. She knew the procedure worked months ago but couldn’t bring herself to tell you. Why? She was simply scared.

Despite having talked about children with you, her anxiousness of the news ate at her until she’d decided to keep quiet at the time. 

On the flight home she’d mentioned it to Clint and her best friend wasted no time in telling her she needed to confirm it and tell you. 

Looking at you now, the way happy tears fill your eyes and the way you’re smiling like she’s given you the world, she wishes she’d told you sooner. 

‘Miss Y/L/N, Mister Stark has requested your help in the lab’

You nearly groan at F.R.I.D.A.Y’s announcement in the room. 

Slowly rising to your feet, you cup Natasha’s face in your hands, and place a kiss on her soft lips.

With a promise to continue talking later, you both leave out. Natasha goes to find Clint and you head to the lab with Tony. 

Together you both finish up the suits and the watches, then go to help Bruce and Rocket finish the traveling platform. You pass by Thor who’s opening yet another can of beer and spilling it all over the floor and himself.

You hate that his depression led him to drinking but that’s something to be addressed when the fate of the Universe isn’t at precedents. 

While Tony finishes up with Rocket, you take a time suit to Scott. He’s supposed to be testing it. The suit uses the Pym Particles to shrink the user to atomic size in order to travel through the Quantum Realm, using the watch as a gps to navigate when and where to go. 

Scott steps away to put it on and you chat with Bruce about what’s about to happen.

“Are we sure we trust this imbecile to do this properly?” Nebula asks bluntly.

You laugh and shrug,“ he’s the only one that’s done this before so,” your sentence trails off.

When Scott comes back, Rhodey comes in,“ time travel suit? Not bad.” He nods approvingly.

“Hey, hey, hey!” All eyes fall to Scott whose looking at Bruce bewildered,“ easy, easy!

“I'm being very careful.” Bruce replies.

Shaking his head, Scott argues,“ no, you're being very Hulky.”

Offendedly, Bruce exclaims,“ I'm being careful.” 

“These are Pym Particles, alright?” Scott waves the red vial around,“ and ever since Hank Pym got snapped out of existence, this is it. This is what we have. We're not making any more.”

You all frown at the obviously frazzled man. Rhodey tells him to calm down.

“Sorry.” He takes a deep breath.“ We've got enough for one round trip each. That's it. No do-overs. Plus two test runs.” 

In the blink of an eye he shrinks down and then resizes,“ one test run.” 

He nods, then admitting that he isn’t ready to do this. Only for all your eyes to snap over to Clint who volunteers.

Figuring it’s better than Scott, and seeing as no one else offers, you all wait for Clint to change into the time suit.

Once he’s done Bruce explains some things to him. And Rhodey butts in, offering a plan.

“If we can do this, you know, go back in time, why don't we just find baby Thanos, you know, and-” He demonstrates choking him out.

You shrug at the suggestion. It’s not the worst idea but it wouldn’t work.

“First off that’s horrible,” Bruce starts.

Rhodey argues that it’s Thanos.

“Nice thought, but that’s not how it works. Killing Thanos in the past won’t reverse what he did to our present.” 

Bruce nods along with what you say, pointing a finger at you to make his agreement clear.

“Look, we go back, we get the stones before Thanos gets them. Thanos doesn't have the stones. Problem solved.” Scott explains as if that makes perfect sense.

“Bingo.” Clint agrees.

Nebula looks at him,“ that's not how it works.”

He frowns,“ well, that's what I heard.”

When Bruce asks by who, Scott and Rhodey list off a number of movies about time travel. 

It amazes you that these guys manage to chip away at your faith in this so easily with their lack of knowledge. Not even lack of, just misconception.

“Those are all movies. Fiction.” You roll your eyes.

Bruce shakes his head, then explaining,“ if you travel to the past, that past becomes your future. And your former present becomes the past. Which can't now be changed by your new future.”

“Right.” You say as Nebula says,“ exactly.”

Clint mumbles about it all being bullshit and you just sigh and walk away. 

Everyone is gathered around the platform, preparing for the test run. You nod to Steve and Tony, going to stand beside Natasha as the rest of the team comes out. 

Clint steps up to the middle of the platform and Bruce stands in front of the control panel.

Finally being ready, Bruce gives Clint a count down. The man shrinks away, you all wait a minute, before he comes back. 

He drops to one knee and Natasha rushes over.

They speak quietly for a second and then Clint stands.“ It worked.” He speaks louder, tossing a baseball glove to Tony.

Steve nods,“ alright everybody, we’ll reconvene later to talk about the stones.”

******

Taglist: @thelastavenger-3000 @aaron-despair @messuhp @izalesbean @bvb-bk @username23345 @sighsam @confusinggemini612 @natasha-danvers @rileigh519 @higherfurther-romanova @dynnealberto

[codyfernaesthetic]

Dichotomy

Part 4:

The Sanctuary holds a massive celebration in honor of Michael Langdon’s return from Outpost 3. Mallory attempts to adjust to her new life with the help of new friends.

Author’s note: Hello! Shorter chapter this time, but I didn’t want to put it off any longer. I have big plans for Dinah and other minor characters so I wanna draft that out and get all of it together. Until then, here’s the ballroom scene! I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Language, mild sexual themes, mentions of anxiety

Mallory didn’t have long to settle into her new home when a knock came from the door. Rhoda quickly rushed forward past Mallory who was already making her way and opened it. Outside the threshold was an older African American woman, short and stout; brown freckles were dotted across her round cheeks and nose, framed by dark curly q’s with stripes of gray splashed throughout. She wore a black, purple brocaded vest over a flowy white shirt, a violet skirt decorated with black silk trimmings stopped below her knees in the front and fell past her ankles in the back. Her shoes were royal purple, large black stones sparkling in their center. In her right hand she carried a large, worn leather bag.

“Hello, dear.”

She entered without Mallory having the chance to grant permission. As Rhoda shut the door, the woman held out her hand, “You must be Mallory. My name is Lydia Porfirio, perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

Mallory took her hand with a small twinge of uncertainty, until taking another moment to think and realizing where she recognized her.

“Yes!” She exclaimed with a smile, “Coco sent me to pick up your summer collection that she got for her birthday.”

“Coco?”

“My...” her face fell, a wave of further realization crashing over her, “former employer.”

Lydia patted her hand sympathetically, “She didn’t survive, I’m assuming?”

She shook her head and muttered, “No.”

She released her hand and set down her bag, saying, “You look devastated over it. I’ve known too many assistants who would’ve loved to murder their employers. Hell, I know I did when I was working for some no talent hacks before selling my soul to ol’ Beelzebub,” she removed a pair of black gloves and set them on the bed, “So, I suppose you two must’ve been good friends.”

She began opening the bag, pulling out measures and sewing kits and patterns; all the while Mallory watched, dumbfounded, unsure how to voice the forming ideas in her mind.

“So, this is all a Satanist thing.”

She stopped. She turned her face to her with a wry smile, “What was your first hint?”

Mallory hesitated, then asked in a low voice, “What does that make Mr. Langdon?”

Lydia cocked her head to the side, as if registering her question. She slowly stood straight, sudden realization in her eyes that Mallory truly didn’t know, “Michael Langdon is the Antichrist.”

Her head spinned as she grappled for the edge of the love seat, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Now, hold on,” Lydia grabbed her by the arms and gently helped her sit down, “just take a deep breath, honey.”

She threw her head back and commanded Rhoda, “Go get her some water.”

She rushed to complete her task and knelt down in front of Mallory, presenting the glass before her. She waved it away, rubbing her temples, her breathing shallow.

“Why am I here? Why didn’t he just kill me?”

She wished she’d stayed dead the first time. She wished she never had to learn about Coco. Everything she knew was twisting and morphing before her eyes and she didn’t understand why.

“You must be something very special,” Lydia consoled, “Only the richest people got a chance to come to The Sanctuary. I know it’s a lot to take in, but you really are a lucky girl.”

She tried to chuckle, but it only came out as a mirthless, throaty grunt. She rubbed her eyes, a sharp pinprick headache forming at the base of her skull.

“I hate to do this to you,” Lydia stood, twirling a tuft of hair, “but I do need to start working if we want you in something presentable for the celebration.”

She looked up at her, “What?”

“I was sent here to make you a dress. I’m assuming you just came here with the clothes on your back.”

Mallory shook her head, disgusted and tired, “I can’t.”

Lydia answered sympathetically, but with a warning undertone, “It’s not optional, dear.”

She wrung her hands and closed her eyes, she never remembered praying to anyone or anything before, but now found herself calling out into the universe. Like an ant screaming to the top of a mountain, begging for anyone at all to hear her and help.

“Ok.”

*.*.*

The grand ballroom of The Sanctuary sprawled the length of a football field, its floor pure black marble, shined to reflect the domed ceiling towering above. Chandeliers of silver hung from the rafters, red rubies spilling down them like drops of blood. Murals were scrawled across the entire circumference of the ceiling, resembling the art of the Sistine Chapel, but with a much darker overtone. The people of Babel stood in pride, beholding their beautiful tower that touched the stars, defying the will of God; another, the grizzly scene of the murder of Abel, his brother Cain violently crushing his head with a stone. But in the center of the dome was the most vivid of them all. The scene was a perfect cloudscape, hues of gold and violet and orange dazzled and danced between puffs of white, the sky above radiant with white light, with the exception of one lone aberration. A figure with his arms outstretched, encrusted head to toe in clothes of fine silk and jewels, wings sprinkled with starlight, golden hair swirling around his angelic face, branches of lightening cracked around him to form a terrifying halo. Below him, his reverent epithet, the words, “Lucifer, The Morning Star, Conqueror of Earth, Harbinger of the Apocalypse”

The denizens filled the room, clad in gothic balllgowns and crimson waistcoats. The women’s hair was pinned and braided with jewels, and the men wore ostentatious rings of black diamond and silver, every outfit attempting to outdo the other. Long tables of rich food and decadent wine were placed all around. However, all eyes were focused on one man who stayed off to the side, surveying the crowd of his loyal subjects. Michael Langdon hung back from the crowd, arms behind his back in typical fashion. He was every inch an imposing, demonic king. Upon his head he wore a crown of silver thorns, entwining into three spirals at the top, tipped with rubies. His flowing, golden hair framed piercing eyes rimmed in black; black eyeshadow sexily smoked out on their corners. He wore a long, velvet coat, decorated with silver buttons and accents of leather over a black shirt with a thin mesh V sliding down his broad chest; a silver pentagram pendant around his neck, and leather boots, laced in silver.

Men and women eyed him, some with reverence, others with lust, but all watched him with hungry and desirous eyes. A particular rumor was buzzing around about the Devil’s son and the Cooperative’s plans for him, and all wanted to know how their King and Savior would go about fulfilling the plan.

But their heads turned with his as he stared awestruck at the ballroom’s threshold. Mallory stood there, escorted by Rhoda, panic seizing her as all eyes latched onto her at once. Lydia was a fast worker, though she had worked from a previously created pattern. Mallory’s gown transformed from a black satin bodice at the top to red strips swirling around the bottom like flames, her dark hair curled and done up with red jewels. She might’ve been the most simplest dressed there, but she might as well have been the only one in the room with the way Langdon’s eyes were locked on her. They tried to ignore him and continue conversation as he strolled towards her. Langdon, sensing their gaze, turned and waved them off, signaling that they best continue their revelry, and mind their own business; but some still gave Mallory dirty looks.

He appraised her; clinically, or so she thought. She balled her hands into fists, trying to hide how badly she was shaking.

“Your dress is lovely. Lydia works well under pressure.”

He tilted his head like a curious owl spying on his prey from up in his hideout; icy blue eyes drilling into her with such scrutiny that a pleasant heat pooled into her core, mixing with frozen shards of fear.

His lips pulled into a genuine smile, “May I have this dance?”

She tore her eyes away from his gaze and took his hand with trembling fingers, panic and rage swirling in her gut. Violins began their sweet, hypnotic tune. With one flowing movement, his left hand gripped her waist with a firm, but gentle touch, while gracefully whirling them onto the ballroom floor. She felt his eyes burning into the top of her head, her gaze fixed on the steps of their feet on the black marble floor.

“It’s very rude to not look your partner in the eyes.”

When she said nothing in response, he stopped abruptly. She braced for the worst, terrified that she had angered him, and would be severely punished for her insolence. Instead, his hand snaked further around her waist and up her back, drawing her closer til there was no space between them. His fingers pressed into the bare nape of her neck, a strong pressure, yet teasing. His warm, full lips made contact with the curve of her neck, pressing a tender, innocent kiss. Without her consent, a gasp of surprised pleasure escaped her throat. Within an instant he moved back to his original posture, a devious smirk adorned his face now that her eyes were well-fixed on him. His hand slipped back to her waist, but no effort was made to separate their bodies. They returned to their dancing without a word, the ghost of his lips haunting the dip of her neck.

“Did you ever dream of this when you were a child, Mallory?” He asked, his eyes lingering on her neck, brushing his tongue over his bottom lip, “Being in a beautiful gown, at a ball, in the arms of a king.”

Suddenly, a vision came upon her. Black, bat-like wings stretched out from behind Langdon’s form, spanning across the entire room. Serpentine black horns climbed from his head. His eyes became as red as blood. The same grasping darkness she’d encountered in the tunnel sprung up from the ground and entwined itself around her legs.

“And the fact that the same king holding you close,” he continued with a heady voice, “Could twitch his finger and end your existence, does that scare you?” His mouth twisted into a grin, “Excite you? You know who I am, what I am capable of,” he leaned in closer and whispered, “Are you frightened, Mallory?”

She gulped back tears, the terror threatening to overtake her. The darkness tightened its grip.

“You will speak to me,” he commanded with a dangerously gruff voice.

She grit her teeth and looked him in the eye, power coursing through her, pushing back the darkness.

“I am not afraid of you.”

When the words left her mouth, the vision vanished. The normal sights, sounds, and smells wafted all around her, bringing her back to reality. Langdon took a step back, still holding her right hand. He tilted his head in a slight bow, as if agreeing to a challenge.

“Good.”