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"Room temperature, Nebula?" The Mad Titan asked, standing tall and arrogant behind the protective glass.

His daughter had a light panel spread before her face, nonexistent brows pinched in concentration as her blue fingers moved figures on the light before her. She looked back at her father, or whatever the hell he really was to her.

"576 Fahrenheit, Father," Nebula obliged the information. Thanos wrinkled his forehead in disapproval and my breath caught.

Sweat dribbled down my forehead and down my cheeks, feeling an awful lot like tears. The heat made my breath come heavy in long, dreadfully hot pants. My arms were positioned in front of me, and from my forearm down, dull orange and reds danced on my bare skin. The pathetic flames circled around my hands, they crawled up my forearms and danced dimly on my elbows. The shackles that covered my entire hands had been removed, as they had been the last time I'd exhibited and released such power, but this time it was only to be replaced with a set that fastened around my ankles tightly and cut into my skin more than the ones on my hands did.

I was standing on a secluded side of the room, a translucent pane of glass separating Thanos and his daughter from me, the room I was in was similar to the one I had spent every moment in until now, a circular dome carved of black rock and small, inexplicable engravings into the ebony walls. Thanos had stuck me in this room and gave me simple instructions,

Burn, little bird.

My ratty hair stuck to my skin, its brown clumps plastered to my cheeks like a thin layer of glue.

A faint memory reminded me that my hair once fell in silky chocolate curls, now it was ratted and tangled, the ends singed by the fire that crawled along my arms.

Thanos paced closer to the glass and the mere sight of his massive frame growing closer was enough to send me into an eternal panic attack. So much of my pain came from his fingertips, I could hear whispers of my screams with every curve of definition he possessed.

"I know you can do better, little bird." Thanos said, his voice soft as if he were indeed coaxing a baby bird, but his eyes were menacing, terrifying, they wordlessly threatened me with endless methods of torture. I fought tears that brewed in my eyes, terror welling up inside of me by the thought of suffering by his hand again. Not that I could stop it, his game wouldn't stop, even if I pleased him.

The flames that encircled my hands were dull, nothing like when I first unlocked this flame in my heart, when they'd ravaged the walls and singed my hair and clothes from my body as if they were nothing. Now, they flickered around my wrist and warmed my skin. When I'd lashed at the Great Titan, my skin had gone unharmed, unaffected by the bright reds and oranges that had clashed. Now I fought to keep the fire from my skin, pink and red burns peppered my skin when the flames licked my skin, and a few blisters had appeared on my forearms when the fire grew to hot.

Still, even as I was drenched head to toe in sweat and my body was shaking miserably, I fought to bring higher heat to the fire that dwindled around me.

They was something wrong about what I was doing, like some part of me knew that my own fire shouldn't affect me. I felt like there was a barrier, severing me from my power, or blocking it, or....

Even as I desperately fed my fire, nothing happened. It flickered, burned a little brighter, and then shrunk back to its pathetic state.

I heaved a breath, panting as sweat dropped down my nose.

Thanos grunted, seeing my failed attempts at stared impatiently at his daughter.

"Why is her body acting this way?" He demanded, his eyes raving over me, starting at the blisters and burns along my pale skin. Though he held no perversion in his eyes, it still felt violating-wrong- to watch his eyes meet my skin.

Nebula pursed her lips together, eyeing her father warily as if she too were scared of him, and staring at the light panel in front of her. Her mechanical fingers made a few motions along the screen, or whatever the hell it was. She squinted her eyes, a robotic whine came from the other side of the glass as her eyes adjusted.

"I don't know, father. It's hard to measure such things with this technology, or any." Nebula said, moving and tapping her slender fingers against the light panel.

Thanos sighed, either in disappointment or impatience or both, and whipped toward me, so abruptly it caught me off guard and I jumped. He walked slowly toward the glass, too slowly for my sanity, or lack thereof.

"What is holding you back, bird? Is it fear?" He pondered aloud, I hated how calm he could sound, when I knew his eyes were nothing but cold, dead rage. "Lack of motivation?" Thanos added, I stiffened, hoping he knew that his vaguely veiled threats were motivation enough. He saw my change in posture, and that must have been enough for him. He turned toward the blue-skinned girl, and they must've had some code I didn't know about, because when he nodded toward her, she suddenly knew exactly what to do.

She looked at me for two seconds, as if in hesitation, and I sensed her gaze on me and looked up at her. Fear shot through me at the look she gave me, as if almost in apology, and her fingers paused momentarily over the light panel.

Nebula had never hesitated before, so the pause in her movements truly struck terror inside me.

It had only been for a second, and before Thanos could say anything, her fingers began moving again. I felt a sudden weight pressing on my mind, like it usually did before I went into an illusion. I clenched my eyes shut and waited for the darkness to take over me, biting my lip in morbid anticipation, but surprisingly it didn't come.

I kept my eyes shut a few more seconds, still waiting for it to happen, but it didn't.

Suddenly, a heard a voice. A man's, who's was it?

I opened my eyes, expecting to see Thanos and Nebula on the other side of the glass, but instead, it was a similar room, carved of black rock, with no Thanos, Nebula, Glass, or anything.

I didn't realize I was sitting down until I looked down to find myself sitting on a steel chair, the material nothing but a phantom caress against my skin. I could feel it, but it wasn't quite there. The room was familiar, and I could've sworn I'd been here before, but I couldn't quite place it. I made to move my hand to the brand left above my breast, but I was surprised to find I couldn't move my hands. I grunted, turning and looking at my arms, steel cuffs attached to the chair were fastened to my wrists, keeping me against the chair. I could barely even feel it against my skin, so I hadn't noticed it. I tried to push myself onto my feet, but my ankles were also rooted to the legs of the chairs by steel cuffs. Panic started to fester within me, I tugged on the restraints

How was I here? I always felt it when I was pushed into an illusion, and I never remembered where I actually was beforehand. Why was this time different?

I scrunched my nose in surprise when I noticed the smell of burnt hair and still felt the previous moment's heat clinging to my skin, my  threadbare clothes were still singed and soaked with sweat, and I was still panting from the fire.

How was I still in this state? This had never happened before whenever I'd been put in an illusion, I'd always had fresh clothes, most of the time my scars were gone, this was so irregular my heart beat began to quicken with my nerves.

Was I still in that room, just seeing something else? I craned my neck to look behind the chair and survey the room as best as I could, when I heard the man's voice again, talking in front of me.

"Lyra,"

I stiffened, my back going rigid against the steel. My head was still turned away from him, and I was terrified to turn back around to see who was standing there. To see what awaited me.  

And that name..

Lyra,

Where had I heard it before? Why was it so familiar to me? Slowly, I turned around, squinting my eyes in preparation for what would meet my eyes. When I turned around, there was a man standing in front of the steel chair, his hands held behind his back in neat composure. His hair was slicked back with gel, but it was slightly wavy and tousled.

His eyes were piercingly emerald, a green that was so familiar to me, yet so startling. I shuddered a long breath and my back pressed into the glass behind me. "Lyra-" He repeated.

"Who are you," I interrupted abruptly, shaking a loose strand of damp hair at my face. The way he towered over me made me press my back as far as I could into the back of the chair, trying to put as much distance between me and him. He flinched back from my reply, as if I'd physical struck him.  The look in his eyes made guilt pinch at me for some reason, though I was confused why, but my guilt dissipated when a small smile appeared on his thin lips. Fear quickly replaced it.
In any other circumstance, I would've reprimanded myself for feeling terror at such a warm smile. But here, nothing kind had any chance of actually turning out that way.

"You don't remember me, my love?" The raven-haired man asked, feigning hurt from my reply, he pulled his hands from behind his back and held his hands in front of himself, he looked as if he were to reach out to me and my head twitched away, even if he wasn't in arms reach of me. He frowned when he saw my wariness of him, but I didn't let that affect me. Thanos' methods of mind-fuckery had no limits. But still, the look on his face reminded me of someone, and I couldn't place a name, couldn't place who, but it made me falter.

I shook my head slowly, finally answering his question, while studying the man carefully. He wore an emerald embroidered tunic, with fabrics I could tell were refined and royal. I couldn't deny he was familiar.... While I was studying him and ransacking my brain for a memory, which I had a shortage of these days, that would help me figure out where I knew him from, he began to slowly walk toward me.

A lump formed in my throat and I dug my shoulder blades into the back of the chair, arching my neck and trying to shove away from him, trying to put distance between the two of us as much as possible. The chair didn't move, and he didn't stop walking toward me. It didn't take him but a second to close the distance between the two of us, hovering just inches away from me and looming above me.

I swallowed nervously, trying to hide the quiver in my lower lip but failing. My hands began to tremble against the steel arm of the chair, the cool temperature not helping. I stared up at him, his piercingly green eyes boring into my soul and sending a shiver down my spine.

He surprised me by drawing a dagger from the belt on his trousers, and my spine straightened nervously, a choked off whimper coming from my throat at the sight of it. How had I not noticed the dagger sitting on his hip from the beginning? What was he planning to do with it?

He must've saw my fear in my eyes, because then he dropped the dagger on the rock ground purposely. I couldn't help but release a breath at the sight of the weapon on the ground, but I knew that didn't mean he couldn't just pick it back up again. He dropped to his knees and I flinched in surprise. "My love, don't be afraid," The man whispered, I trembled as he placed his hands on each side of my face. The sudden contact made me jolt, and I made to move my face from his hands, but something stopped me. His touch was so familiar, his hands felt so right on my skin. I tried to shake those thoughts, he wasn't real, he was only a piece of Thanos' illusion.

I knew that, but why couldn't I see that?

He grinned at me when he saw the change of emotion in my eyes, and my heart lightened a little bit when I saw the smile on his lips. I forgot, for a moment, that I was literally held captive in a chair. That a dagger sat mere inches from his feet.

He moved his hands from my face, and while my heart had lightened slightly, I still remained stiff as he moved his hand to mine, gripping my fingers in his. I watched him tensely as he pressed a tender kiss to the back of my hand, and my breath hitched in my throat.

The contact was so loving, so intimate, where had I felt it before? Why did I remember his lips on my collarbone, on my jaw, on my lips..?

Suddenly, with no warning and my guard beginning to slip, he grabbed the dagger from the floor, raised it and drove it directly into the back of my hand, where his lips had been. I gasped in both shock and anguish, throwing my head forward as pain burst in my hand. I released a sharp sound of anguish at the pain, fighting the tears that threatened to spill by squeezing my eyes shut. The blade stood erect from my hand, and it was rooted into the arm of the chair. Blood spilled from the side of my hand and I bent my head over, whimpering and shuddering from the pain.

I choked on a sob and pulled my head against the chair, chest heaving up and down with heavy breaths. I opened my eyes, staring with terror festering inside me at the man who still held the hilt of the dagger into my hand. His eyes flicked from the blood running down my arm to my eyes that were fixed on him. His gaze paralyzed me where I sat, and I barely dared to breathe as moved his hand from the dagger.

Without looking away from me, he jerked his arm to the side and another dagger materialized there in a green mist.

A small noise escaped the back of my throat and I pushed my back into the chair, head reeling back in fear. "Please," I whimpered, though I knew pleading would never work. The man smiled at me gently, though it lacked malice I no longer found it heart-warming. I found it terrifying.

"Don't you trust me, darling?" He quipped sarcastically, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Despite myself, I bared my teeth at him. The corner of his mouth twitched.

He twisted the tip of the dagger into the pad of his finger, leaning forward in a threatening way. The gentle, intimate way he held himself around me didn't fade, but this time I wasn't fooled by it. I tried to move away from him, tried to push distance between us and digging my shoulder blades into the steel, as he advanced toward me. Ultimately, it was in vain.

He gripped my shoulder with his hand and twisted his blade into my chest.

I whimpered in pain, clenching my eyes shut and gritting my teeth together. Agony exploded through my chest and blood poured from my lips, I gasped in desperate need of breath, but instead I choked on the warm blood in my throat.

It's not real it's not real ITS NOT REAL

He pulled the knife from my chest effortlessly and stabbed my in the abdomen, as if it was nothing, as if we were doing nothing but having conversation. By the Gods, it hurts. My body hurts. Everything hurts. And when he stabbed me again and again in the arms, in my knees, the pain grew. It was so intense I couldn't handle it but I had no choice but to just sit there...

Strength leaked from my muscles and I didn't have the strength to even hold myself up, even when I sat propped in a chair. I fell forward, limp and shaking.

The man, still bent in front of me with his dagger protruding from my knee, stopped his onslaught to cup my face with his palm. I tried to shrink away from him, but my strength had left me quickly.

"Lyra," he started, I flinched at the familiar title as I trembled and gasped in agony, that he once again threw in my face.

"Don't be afraid," He said, a wicked and mischievous smile pulling on the corner of his lips.

And with that my heart stopped beating dead in my chest. That smile, the impish flash of his teeth, was so familiar... I knew that smile. Better than anyone. This was THANOS' illusion, it wouldn't have been the first time he used someone I cared about against me.

Was this one of the people a part of my past? That I couldn't even remember?

Anger swelled inside me, fury filling the holes in my skin and burning at my fingertips. The man yelped, taking his hand from my face as if it burned him.

That couldn't be right, I thought, I can't call upon my fire in illusions.

Then, as I began to grow angrier, I became more aware of the heat that prowled under my skin, itching to be let go, fueling my fury with gasoline. The thought that Thanos had taken advantage of my memories countless times had made me feel desperate, but now, I'd never felt this angry.

The flames in my blood and bones leaped and began to grow restless, and then I could feel heat dancing on my fingers as my hold on my control slipped, but I didn't see any orange. And that's when I knew.

I was still with Thanos and Nebula, just seeing something else. That's why I could barely feel the chair, as if it wasn't completely tangible, that's why burns still covered my skin and the smell of smoke was still thick in the air. This falsehood, was merely that. I clenched my fist, allowing the fire I couldn't see to wrap tightly around my forearm. I could feel it's heat, but it didn't harm me. I knew it was there. Though rage poured through my skin and tightened my throat, though blood was still warm on my skin and my lips, I smiled. The man was staring at me, clutching his hand with a suspicious look.

I kept his eyes, flashing teeth triumphantly at him, disregarding the dagger that he'd left jammed in my knee.

And then I set fire to their illusion.

-

I opened my eyes, really opened them, and I was back in the room with The Mad Titan and his daughter.

Nebula was crouched in front of me, hissing and holding her hand as if I'd burned it. Which, I had, nasty red blemishes bloomed on her palm and her lips were pinched in pain.

I was breathing heavily, pain still ripe in my body, I could still see a dagger jabbed into my knee and I reached down and with a grunt of pain yanked it from my flesh, throwing it to the stone ground with distaste. Stab wounds littered my body, covering my bosom to my legs as when the man had stabbed me, but I could see it had been her all along, wearing a glamour of some sort to mess with my head. My entire body was trembling with pain, and I feared my legs would give out from under me.

My emotions were numb, a dull throbbing in the back of my head and nothing more. I felt like I should be feeling something strong, like I was just a raging storm on the inside but the waters were calmed somehow.

Nebula raised her head, staring at me with hatred burning in her eyes as she clutched her bloodied and burned hand to her chest, then her eyes turned to something else.

Fear.

"Father," she breathed, taking a staggering step away from me, her eyes were wide and lined with silver. It took me only a few moments to realize why she was afraid of me. Not only was a golden mist healing my stab wounds as if they were never there, without me even have to think about it, flames were circling my fingers, my lips, my legs...

and they burned so hot they were bright blue and silver.

That's when I realized I wasn't trembling in pain, but in anger. And that's when the numbness wore off. Fury erupted through me so hot it seared my skin and boiled my blood, the flames were gentle at first, but then they poured from my skin, melting the ground beneath my feet and the shackles that were fixed to my ankles but leaving my skin, clothes, and hair alone.

Nebula screamed as she realized she was trapped in the glass cell they put me in with me, nothing was keeping me from melting the skin from her metal plating, from giving her pain as she gave me. She whipped her head frantically to her father on the other side of the glass, who had no emotion in his eyes regarding his daughter who was at my mercy.

Instead, his eyes were fixed on me. the blue flames swirling me like an unholy halo, and my anger piqued.

Nebula reminded me, then, who was responsible for my suffering.

He met my eyes, a lustful, sick smile twisting his lips and hunger for my power glinting in his eyes. He was delighting in this, that bastard. I stared at him while my fury pounded against my skin, begging to be released.

"You bitch," I ground out, before releasing the onslaught of my power toward him. It slammed against the glass and Thanos didn't so much as flinch, staring at me with challenge in his eyes. This time I was the one that smiled as the flames took only a few seconds to melt through the glass.

Fear flashed in the Mad Titan's eyes, but before I could reach him a guttural scream met my ears. Nebula lunged at me but a wall of flame slammed into her. She cried out as her skin seared and burned, staggering away from me. My blood sang as I whirled toward her, ready to show her what pain really felt like-

but suddenly my limbs froze and my fire stopped all at once. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I collapsed toward the ground as the darkness swallowed me into its cold embrace.

NO

I fought the darkness as hard as I could, trying to illuminate it with my flame, chanting a mantra of YOU DO NOT YIELD TO ANYONE until I could think of nothing else.

But it was useless, and I fell.