A Sword
Wong paced the halls in the sanctum, making no sound. He had to remain here while there might be hope that the sword was still around the place. He wished that Strange could lend him a second hand, but as it stood, he already had revealed too much to even him. Just even letting someone know about the existence of such a sword…but he had been almost driven mad, desperate. Suddenly, he came to a stop. He listened harder. Sure enough there was someone in the library. As if he hadn’t been cautious enough in his last hour’s wandering he drew even more soundlessly towards the entrance leading to the library.
Clint came bursting into the room. Steve rose. “Clint?”
“We found it.,” was the hurried response. Steve was inwardly relieved. It had been a week of a third mission almost to every corner of the galaxy in search for the sword. He dashed with Clint to the roof of the tower where there was quite plainly a din of clamor afoot. Thor was battling Loki, which had drawn just about everyone out. Loki was desperately holding on to a sword and conjuring illusions, which failing in the attempt of fooling his brother was at least hindering his onset. “Are you sure that’s it?’ Quill said dubiously. “A four and a half foot sword looking like it carries instant death. Seems to fit the description, Quill,” Rocket assured over the ruction. “Alright, enough!” Strange announced, suddenly appearing through a portal, tailed by Wong. He instantly separated the two rukusing brothers. Wong retrieved the sword from Loki. “How long have you known about this?” Strange asked Steve. “A couple weeks.” “Had he asked you to help?” Strange indicated to Wong with a movement of the eyes as Steve in turn watched the latter sorcerer finish conjuring a cage around Loki. “Yes, a week ago.” Bucky, who had been listening, now stepped in. “I had already discovered it some weeks before he came to us for help.” “How?” “They had been searching for the sword by the time it was lost,” Wong intervened. Strange took it as the signal to leave and trailed Wong through the portal through which he had already levitated Loki, trapped in his conjured cage. “They knew about this, and you did not tell me?” Strange inquired none too civilly, as soon as the portal had closed. “I don’t see why you need to have a hand in this Strange.” “No, I see exactly why you need my hand in this, because without me you would not have spotted the gods brawling on the rooftop and realized one of them had the sword.”
“You can’t fix everything Strange,,” Wong’s voice was rising, “You keep on thinking that you have the solution to everything and can save the world every time it’s got a new problem to face but you can’t!”
“So that’s a reason not to tell me things, things that might put the whole world in jeopardy if it falls into the wrong hands!” “I was going to ask you the same thing,” Wong threw it back in his face. “What do you mean?” “How long have they been going on?” For a moment Strange hesitated and sighed, then: “For two months I've had the same dream. I was in the library. There was this noise that would draw me to the relic room. I would see a thief putting the sword under his cloak. And every time I tried to stop him he would show me visions of what he’s done, the people he has killed. Hundreds of innocent people he has killed with the sword. I would hear his voice in my head how every last person who tries to stop him would die by the Sword of Vashanti. Then, he’d kill me.”