"They have taken the bridge

And the second hall.

We have barred the gates

But cannot hold them for long.

The ground shakes.

Drums.

Drums in the deep.

We cannot get out.

A shadow moves in the dark.

We cannot get out."

-The Fellowship of the Ring

Jane held on tight to Fenris' hand as they crept through the woods. She couldn't see anything except the faint outlines of trees, and that single red light. Their feet thudded softly through the snow. The cold nipped her face and fingers.

They ascended a gradual hill, the light growing brighter with every step. Finally, Jane felt stone beneath her feet instead of earth, and they reached the top of the hill.

The circular light stood about eight feet off the ground, partially covered with frost. And by its light, Jane could see a rectangular shape beneath it.

Fenris held out his right hand, and a soft glow sprang to life in his palm. Jane gasped.

It was a door. A gray, metal door in the mountain. She squeezed his fingers, and glanced up at him.

"Is this it?" she breathed. He stared at the door, his gaze keen and hard.

"Yes," he murmured.

"It looks electronic," Jane observed, glancing over it. "And there aren't any buttons or key-pads or handles or anything out here. It must just open from the inside."

Fenris stepped forward, pulling her along, and extinguished his little light. Jane blinked, momentarily blinded.

Then, a grinding, hissing sound made her jump.

And the door slid open, revealing a low-ceilinged cement hall, and a single, sterile white light hung on the left hand wall.

"How did you...?" Jane started. He looked down at her.

"Remember," he said, almost smiling. "Science is magic."

Jane couldn't summon a smile in return.

"So," she took a deep breath. "What's the plan once we're inside?"

Fenris lifted his eyes and gazed at the door.

"We will undoubtedly trip some sort of alarm once we step through. I expect we will be captured."

Jane stared at him.

"You…" she swallowed. "Then what?"

He turned and looked down at her. She could only see half his face by the light.

"Then you must trust me," he said. "For your own sake. I will try to make you as safe as I can…" He held her gaze. "But you must be clever. If you see an opportunity to escape, you must take it. If a fight breaks out, you must hide and make yourself secure. But if you believe me to be in danger…" He leaned is face toward her. "You must not move."

"But—" Jane tried.

"No," he cut her off. "I will have your word on that."

Jane stared up at him, squeezing his hand even tighter. But his look was so severe that she didn't have room to do anything but nod.

"Very good," he said, and faced the door again. "Shall we?"

Jane shivered. Now that they had finally come to it, she hesitated on the threshold. Fenris waited, watching her. Finally, she drew a deep breath, braced herself, and nodded again. Together, they stepped inside.

They had not proceeded more than ten feet before the door slid shut behind them. They stopped and whirled to face it.

"Well," Jane whispered. "At least it's not totally dark."

She felt Fenris' half smile, and he ran his thumb across the back of her hand. They faced forward again and kept walking, keeping their feet as quiet as possible.

The hallway stretched on for at least two-hundred yards, a white light hanging on the wall every fifty. Jane squinted ahead. Pitch darkness seemed to wait at the end of the hall. And at last, they saw why.

"Which way?" she murmured, for the straight hallway ended in a T shape, with one corridor heading to the left, and the other to the right. Fenris paused, as if pondering.

"It is difficult," he admitted. "Something inside the mountain is—"

A loud, sharp click sounded in Jane's left ear.

Someone grabbed the back of her coat and jerked her backward. She yelped.

Fenris spun around—there was a man behind him. Fenris struck him with his fist and sent him crashing to the floor. He did not get up.

Something heavy and cold and metal pressed against the back of Jane's head. Chills shot through her. She froze.

Fenris straightened, and stared at the one who had hold of Jane. He went still.

"What is that?" he asked quietly, looking first at Jane, then at her captor.

"No sudden movements," the gruff voice behind her ordered. "Or there's a bullet through her brain."

For a moment, Fenris stood where he was. Jane stared up into his eyes—and for just an instant, saw a single emotion there:

Resignation.

Then, his entire bearing transformed.

His shoulders relaxed, his eyes went cold, he stood up straight, and he raised an indifferent eyebrow.

"Is there a purpose to this exercise?" he asked lightly. "Or do you just mean for us to stand here?"

The fist grasping Jane's coat tightened, and she fought to keep her balance as the gun barrel bumped her head. Her heartbeat raged in her ears.

"I'm taking you to the boss," her captor snapped. Fenris frowned, then looked at him sideways.

"I imagined you would," he said, as if the man was stupid. "Isn't that the usual procedure when one comes across strangers in the hallway?" Fenris half smiled and gave him a pointed look. "Especially when one is trying to hide something?"

The man hesitated. Fenris rolled his eyes.

"Really, this is incredible to me." He gestured to the stranger. "Are you not even going to ask who I am or what I am doing?"

"That isn't my job," the man answered.

"Oh, I see," Fenris nodded, then lifted his chin. "Wouldn't want to go above or beyond the call of your duties, would we?"

"Shut up," the man ordered, jerking Jane's coat. "Walk."

Fenris' eyes flicked to Jane's, but his expression gained a strange look of confident mockery as he raised his eyes to the other man again.

"Which way?" he asked.

"That way—straight," the man said, indicating the passage to the right.

"That way?" Fenris pointed. "Not the other way?"

"Don't be smart," the man clipped. Fenris smirked, then turned and began striding easily down the passage, like he was going for a stroll in the park. Jane's captor forced her to follow.

Jane clamped her jaw and her fists and tried to calm her shivering as the hand that held her coat shoved her forward, and the gun bumped against her head in time with their strides. Their feet tapped loudly on the concrete—except Fenris'. He was silent as a cat.

"Stop! Turn here!" the man shouted, as Fenris passed a left hand corridor and kept going straight. Fenris slowed, then sighed and turned on his heel.

"Forgive me," he shot the man an irritated glance as he came back. "I left my mind-reading abilities at home."

"I told you to shut up, moron," Jane's captor snarled.

"Oh, my friend," Fenris chuckled, shaking his head as he started down the right hall. "Your life is about to get very interesting."

Jane swallowed, wondering what Fenris was up to—he seemed very sure of himself all of a sudden…

More white, sterile light filled this corridor, and at the end of it stood a large set of double doors, guarded by two black-clad, armed men. Fenris strode down the middle of the hall as if he owned it.

"Open the door," the man who held Jane ordered.

The guards, surprised, started toward the keypad on the right. Fenris stopped, clasped his hands behind his back, and waited. The doors hissed open, and Fenris walked through them before they were finished retracting. The man shoved Jane after him, and they stepped over the threshold…

Into a vast cavern.

The ceiling was natural and jagged, but bright blue lights had been set into the stone, filling the space with cold illumination. Multiple levels of metal platforms, connected by bridges and staircases, filled the room—and the walls were covered with massive computers and generators, all blinking with green and red lights. It smelled dank in here, and the hum of machinery almost sounded like muffled speech. Rugged, thickset men wearing black and carrying guns prowled through the shadows on all levels. But directly in front of Fenris, Jane and their captor, at the end of a single, wide bridge, stood a circular platform beneath a powerful beam of light. In the middle of this platform, a metal pedestal held up a single object—a blindingly-bright object sitting in a square cage of crisscrossing blue lasers:

The Cube.

Jane's heart leaped.

Fenris stopped halfway across the bridge. The guard pulled Jane to a halt several feet behind him.

"Doctor?" her captor called. "Brought you something I found crawling around in the sewer."

"I hope you have a better reason than that for bothering me," a moderate, low voice muttered. Jane frowned, trying to peer into the shadows beyond the glow of the Cube—and at last she glimpsed a tall, cloaked figure facing a computer screen. She heard the faint sound of fingers clicking on a keyboard.

"Two intruders, sir," the grip tightened again on Jane, and the gun pressed hard on her head. Her face twisted, but she bit her tongue.

"That's mildly interesting," the cloaked man sighed. "What do they want—where are they from?"

"Asgard," Fenris answered. "I have been sent to collect the tesseract."

Jane blinked, and stared at his back in confusion.

The cloaked man stopped typing.

Then, slowly, he turned around—and the light from the Cube caught his face.

Or rather, the inhuman metal mask that covered it.

He loomed forward, his footsteps silent, until he stood beside the Cube pedestal. His hood shrouded the top of the angular mask—but Jane could see his dark eyes through its cut openings. His long green cloak draped to the ground, and beneath it, he wore a suit of armor that almost looked like Tony Stark's—but it was fashioned out of black metal.

The cloaked man tilted his head, his eyes fixed on Fenris.

"Asgard…" the man repeated, as if he was purring. "The tesseract…"

Jane could not see Fenris' face, though she wanted to strain against her captor so she could.

"You mean this?" the masked man pointed to the Cube.

"Unless you have four or five others around here," Fenris answered, sounding bored.

"But this tesseract was originally supposed to belong to Odin," the masked man replied. "Who are you?"

"He sent me," Fenris assured him, taking a couple steps toward him. "And he is very interested in who you are. You, a Midgardian who tosses magic about like a plaything and yet believes he can take and contain a weapon that does not belong to him."

The masked man straightened.

"I am Doctor Victor von Doom. Scientist, sorcerer, and ruler of the country of Latveria." His voice lowered. "And I hardly think you're in a position to dictate to me what is and is not mine."

Jane sensed the men all around the cavern stop moving, and settle their hands on their weapons. Fenris canted his head.

"Well, I speak for Odin, son of Borr, the All-Father and Ruler of the Nine Realms," he answered. "And he bids you return to him his tesseract, or suffer the consequences."

The masked man chuckled. The chilling sound echoed through the cavern. Fenris did not move.

"You find that amusing?"

"You certainly play a convincing majordomo," the man admitted. "I'm confused by one thing, though. If you're a messenger from Asgard," He pointed past Fenris at Jane. "What is she?"

"Who?" Fenris asked. Jane's lips parted.

"That lovely thing back there," the man said. Fenris turned his head and glanced over his shoulder at her. He turned back.

"Oh, the mortal," he said. "She belongs to me. She led me to the tesseract initially. She's proven useful on occasion—enough that I had nearly reclaimed the tesseract when you commandeered it and brought it to this…place." He looked up and to the right, and Jane saw him give a distasteful look at the cave. "What is this pit, anyway?"

"So she isn't your girlfriend, then?" the masked man pressed. Fenris looked back at him.

"My what?" He sounded disgusted.

"Okay, I'll get to her later. Take her over there so she isn't in my line of vision," Doom waved his hand. "She's distracting me."

Jane's heart skipped a beat as the man with the gun jerked her down an adjoining narrow bridge to the right, and down three stairs to another lower platform. Jane could not see all of Fenris yet, just the side of him—but Doom had become much clearer.

Doom folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the pedestal that held the Cube, considering Fenris.

"Something else interests me," Doom confessed. "If this tesseract is so important to the All-Father," he gestured flippantly. "Why didn't he come to me himself? Why did he send some flunky to do his dirty work?"

Fenris laughed. The harsh, unpleasant sound sent shivers through the air.

"Oh, you are very lucky it's me. If he had come himself, hm…" Fenris shook his head. "Well, I would have enjoyed watching." Fenris looked down at his right hand cuff and straightened it with the fingers of his left hand. "No, he values this weapon a great deal, and wished its retrieval to be handled with care." He looked at Doom. "Which is why he sent his son."

Everyone froze. Jane's ears rang as she stared at him. She couldn't comprehend his words all of a sudden—

"His son," the masked man breathed, taking a step toward him. "Wait, you…But you aren't Thor," he said, holding up a hand. "I've seen photographs of Thor, taken a few months ago when he crash-landed in New Mexico. SHIELD tried to keep it all hidden, but I found what I wanted easily enough." The man straightened. "You don't look anything like him."

Jane felt the masked man frown, saw his eyes narrow.

"So you must be the other brother—the one I've heard stories about. The Troublemaker. The master of magic?"

"Your powers of deduction astound me," Fenris smirked.

"So…it's Loki, then," Doom said quietly. "You're Loki."

"My family calls me that," Fenris replied. "But mortals address me by my title: Prince Loki Odinson."

Jane found it suddenly hard to breathe—she couldn't understand what he was saying. It didn't make sense, he had to be bluffing—

Fenris lowered his head.

"Now," he said evenly. "I would be grateful if you would return the tesseract."

The man holding Jane suddenly jerked her forward again, down another short set of stairs, and Jane panicked that he was taking her out of the room.

However, he slowed down there, and stopped.

And now, Jane could see Fenris' entire front, illuminated in the glow of the Cube.

She didn't recognize him. He held his shoulders in an entirely different manner—strong, but reserved—and his expression was cold, his bright eyes tainted with a small smile of derision, his stance casual.

"Prince," he had said. "Prince Loki Odinson…"

No. It was impossible.

But right then, he certainly didn't look like a guard.

"Fascinating," Doom said, coming around to stand in front of the Cube and crossing his arms. "But you must tell me, Mr. Odinson—do you honestly expect me to just hand you this? This, the single most powerful and versatile weapon in the universe—just because you tell me you are the son of Odin?"

"No," Fenris shook his head. "I expect you to hand it to me unless you want to die."

The masked man barked out a laugh.

"You plan to kill me here, in my own fortress, where I am surrounded by countless security systems, thousands of weapons and a small army at my command?"

Fenris smiled—it was a wicked sight.

"Imagine a force greater than you can comprehend," he murmured, articulating each word with icy purpose. "With weapons mightier and swifter than any you have seen in your short life—imagine a towering mounted king, on a horse of lightning. Imagine your little fortress shattered beneath the fist of Mjollnir and the crushing strength of the All-Father's staff." He paused, canting his head. "All of them here, upon you in an instant, should you refuse."

"Very pretty words," Doom commented. Fenris flashed his eyebrows.

"I can use uglier ones."

"Still, only words," Doom growled. "I might be more inclined to believe what you say if I saw a little proof."

Fenris' countentance turned dark and dangerous—his mouth hardened and his eyes blazed.

"Be careful," he warned. "I am not some court entertainer you can call upon to perform magic tricks."

"I have an idea—one that will take no effort," the man held out both his hands, palms out. "I want you to try something on."

Fenris suddenly looked at him sideways, eyes narrowed.

"You see," Doom began. "I've been suspecting that the famous magic-maker was on Earth for quite some time. I noticed all the commotion in New Mexico—who wouldn't?—and decided to look into it. Of course, I put pieces together and called in favors and used various spells, and found out everything there was to know about this Thor that had fallen from the sky, and left his hammer sunk into a rock someplace out in the desert." The man turned and pointed at one of his men, then waved him off. The man nodded, turned and left. Jane swallowed. What was going on?

Fenris just watched the mask, so Doom continued.

"I actually wasn't far away at all when that towering metal man was slicing things up on main street—and then being ripped apart by a flying god with a hammer—what an incredible sight that was!" he marveled. "So I just camped out in that little town after he left, waiting. Because I knew—I finally knew—that Johann Schmidt truly was right. The Norse gods were actual people—and so their tesseract, their Cube, had to be real too. And it just might be nearby."

"That's very interesting," Fenris muttered, glancing around. "But so far I have only heard you discuss my brother."

"I told you, I camped out," the masked man retorted. "And so, when more things came flying out of the sky, I was right there. Unfortunately, I picked the wrong crater to explore first." He turned to see his guard stride back into the cavern—his guard, who carried a helmet in both hands.

It was a helmet unlike any Jane had ever seen. The part meant to protect the head looked angular, beautifully-crafted and vaguely Roman. But out of the fore part of the helmet arched two long, sharp, backward-curving horns. Its metal was polished, and gleamed silvery-gold in the light.

"I found this in the first hole I came to," Doom said as the guard came to stand next to him. "And it just…It radiates magic." He held out a gloved hand over the top of the helmet, but didn't touch it. "I knew someone else had come here from Asgard—someone even more powerful than Thor." He glanced up, and met Fenris' gaze. The look in Fenris' eyes had changed—but Jane still did not recognize it.

"So I went to the other crater. And if I thought the first one was ground zero for magic—ha! It was nothing compared to this one. I couldn't believe the echoes, the resonance. But I had some trouble deciphering them. It was clear that a person had landed there, though." He folded his arms again, thoughtfully. "But what did interest me was the fact that when Thor landed, and the metal man, and the four others that came to fight with Thor, they left intricate patterns in the sand, like Celtic knots. And when this person landed…" he shrugged. "Nothing. Nothing but a large pit. No marks anywhere."

Jane's mind began to fly, her memories spinning toward her with frightening vividness.

"Remember what I told you about these circles?"

"They're signatures, and they mark that someone came from Asgard. It would be Loki's signature, not Thor's."

"And it lately came to everyone's attention in Asgard that Prince Loki can travel without the aid of the Asbru Gate. Which means—"

"If it was him, he wouldn't have left a mark."

"No," Jane whispered.

"Shut up," her captor hissed in her ear. Neither the masked man nor Fenris looked at them.

"I paid close attention after that," Doom went on. "And it didn't take me long to sense him—the one who had fallen from Asgard. He's a master—completely and totally. I've never witnessed more befuddling invisibility spells or more graceful deflections. His technique was fascinating to study. It was almost like he was doing it unconsciously, without a single incantation or practiced movement. Like hiding was just part of his nature." The masked man paused, and Jane could almost sense his smile. "So I did a little research—and I began to suspect who it was I was following. Who it was that belonged to this helmet."

The guard held the horned helmet out toward Fenris. Fenris stared at it.

"I've done so many careful tests on the metal—listening to the magic that made it, and the magic that has surrounded it for all of its existence," the masked man said. "I know this is the helmet of an Asgardian named Loki. And I know that the one I sensed is him."

"I am intrigued that you could divine all that," Fenris said, gazing at the helmet—then looking up at Doom. "And yet you cannot tell who it is you're speaking to."

"I'm a man of science as well as magic," Doom replied. "I never rely solely on my feelings. So indulge my little test, will you?" He took the helmet himself. "Try it on. See if it knows you. If it does, we can talk. If it doesn't…" He motioned to his guard. The guard swiftly stepped around Fenris and leveled a revolver at the back of his head. Doom lifted the helmet. "Then I'll kill you," he said.

Jane jerked against the man holding her. He swore and grabbed a fistful of her hair and rammed the gun up under her jaw. She forced herself to stop moving—though her heart was tearing.

Fenris never twitched. His jaw tensed, and he stared at the helmet. Jane fixed on him, terrified. It wasn't his helmet. It wasn't. He was bluffing, and this stranger was just wildly guessing.

And if it wasn't his helmet—he would die.

But if it was…

Fenris reached out his toward it. Jane's breath caught and held in her throat. His pale hands closed around the horns…

And he turned it, spun it in his hands as if he had done so a thousand times, bent his neck—and slid the helmet onto his head.

It fit as if it was made for him.

He raised his head. The light gleamed and shattered across the smooth, pristine metal.

And the next instant, rattling jingling filled the air.

A metal collar leaped up from his shoulders and circled his neck, then the front of it raced down and crisscrossed over his chest in patterns of silver and gold. More curved plates bloomed on his shoulders, then flowed down over his forearms to create fitted armored bracers. And then, like a flag unfurling, a thick, deep-green cape spilled from the front of his shoulders, arched back over his shoulder blades and tumbled down to the ground, ruffling around his ankles and broadening his form. His shoulders now stood much wider, and his silhouette reached two feet higher. Suddenly, he bore a striking, shining, angular figure—one that radiated majesty and command. The guard's gun faltered, and he lowered it.

Dead silence hung for a long moment, while the masked man and all his minions stared.

"Prince Loki Odinson," Doom finally whispered. "It's an honor to meet you."

Tears filled Jane's eyes. She gulped them back. Her arms and legs had lost all their strength.

Fenris lifted his chin, the ghost of a smile playing about his lips.

No. Not Fenris.

Loki.

Loki.

"Now that we understand each other," Loki said, minutely lifting one eyebrow. "I would like to be given what I came for."

"Certainly," Doom nodded. "I just have one more question for you." He lifted a finger and canted his head. "Why did Thor come here?"

"He lost his hammer," Loki answered lightly, shrugging. "An unfortunate mishap."

"And why did he leave?"

Loki's eyes narrowed.

"That is two questions."

"Indulge me," Doom answered.

"He had recovered his hammer," Loki said. "It took some looking until then, that is all."

"Yes, but he seemed to be in a hurry," Doom mused, putting a finger to the chin of his mask. "Who was it that sent the metal giant after him? Was it you?"

Loki went still. Jane's heart halted, then began racing erratically.

"It was you," Doom decided, pointing at him. "Why deny it? It's common knowledge amongst the SHIELD people that Thor went back to stop his brother—his brother Loki—from destroying Earth and Asgard and whatever else he'd set his mind to. And he did, didn't he? Thor stopped you, and threw you down here."

Loki's expression suddenly turned ugly.

"You're trying my patience," he said, in a low, savage tone.

"Then I'll get to the point," Doom shot back. "There is no army waiting to swoop in if I refuse to give you back this Cube—you're not on any mission for your father." Doom raised himself to his full height. "You don't want to take the Cube back to him like a good little errand boy—you want it so you can kill him. And Thor. And whoever else stands in your way. And you know what?" Doom leaned forward. "I believe you're entirely justified."

Jane's tears fell now. They burned her—and her heart churned so hard she felt sick. Loki finally closed the distance and towered over Dr. Doom, his cape flowing behind him.

"I will ask you one last time," he hissed. "Give me the tesseract—or I will take it myself."

"No, you won't," Doom answered, staying where he was. "If anyone touches it without my releasing it, the mountain will come down on our heads." He pointed upward. "Instantly."

Loki's gaze flicked upward before knifing into Doom again.

"You are playing with something far deadlier than you can possibly understand," Loki hissed.

"That may be," Doom said. "But I'd rather not. BecauseI think we can help each other."

"You offend me," Loki bit out.

"Hear me out," Doom insisted. "I've been searching for this Cube for decades—honing my talents in sorcery and science and using every resource I possess—following in the footsteps of the Hydra commander Johann Schmidt. He possessed it for a time, but he never understood its full potential. He merely siphoned its energy like a battery." Doom shook his head. "Such a waste. But this Cube can do so much more! In the hands of someone who knows how to use it—someone who can fathom the power of the magic inside of it—it can grant any wish. Just like that." He snapped his fingers. "It's infinitely dangerous. I am told several people throughout history have been literally shredded by just touching it—but they were fools. They didn't take the time to become students of the life-blood of the universe. Unlike you and I." Doom met Loki's gaze directly. "We have so much in common, we two. We understand this tesseract, and we know the ebbs and flows of the galaxies. We know the way each world ought to turn, and how its people should be governed." Doom lowered his voice, but heightened the intensity of his words. "So here is what I propose: You will take me to Asgard, and with this Cube, I will help you conquer it. I will levelOdin and Thor, and anyone else who opposes you, and set you on the seat of highest authority. Asgard will be yours, in its entirety. And in return, you will show me how to pass between realms the way the Asgardians do, and allow me the liberty of governing Earth, and whichever of the other realms that catch my fancy."

For a long moment, Loki studied that iron mask, his expression devoid of any humor. Jane closed her hands into fists, her breath suspended.

"You would kill my family," Loki began, low and even. "My father, my brother, my mother—and you would set me up as the ruler of Asgard. You—a mortal from Midgard. And then you would simply hand me the reins and let me be, never troubling me again, whilst you do what you like with the rest of the realms." A slow, poisonous smile spread across Loki's face, and then he gave a quiet laugh and shook his head. "Why in the realms would you do that?" He chuckled. "As soon as you had what you wanted from me, you would turn the tesseract upon me and make it so I never existed." He took a step back, kicking his head back slightly. "It was a valiant try, I have to say—but transparent enough."

"What makes you think that?" Doom said flatly, his voice dark. Loki grinned crookedly and took another step back.

"It's something I would do," he answered, holding his hands out to the sides. "And, as you said—we are very much alike."

Doom shook his head.

A nauseating, turning sensation twisted Jane's stomach and her skin went cold. She could see it in Doom's frame: he had decided something…

"Well, as you said—it was a valiant try, and worth it," Doom sighed. "I'm sorry we couldn't have trusted each other."

"Oh, so am I," Loki sneered.

"But you have confirmed one thing," Doom said. "There's no one waiting to save you. You're here all alone, hoping to bide your time until I make a mistake—so you can get the Cube yourself and do exactly what I said you wanted to do." He paused. "Unfortunately for you, that won't be happening."

Jane's pulse slowed, until she felt her heart might stop. Her eyes darted back and forth between both men.

Loki settled, his expression still grimly amused.

"Pray tell."

"You've forgotten something," Doom said, stepping toward him. "You're in my realm now. And here, I have a right to change the game."

Jane caught it—a swift movement—

Doom lifted a silver pistol from the folds of his robe—

And pointed it at her.

Two flashes of light.

Two sharp shots.

Two thuds hit her bones.

The guard let go of her.

Her hands flew to her abdomen. She looked down.

Dark blood pooled in her palms and dripped from her fingers.

Her mind went blank, except for one thought:

This had all been a trap.

She staggered forward. A low cry came from somewhere—was it her voice, or someone else's?

Then, her legs went numb and gave way.

She crashed to the floor.