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Deep in the dungeons of Asgard, Hermione found Loki again.
"Frigga is fine." She said it the moment she walked in.
The tension in Loki's body visibly drained away.
"Come out. You're free."
Loki raised an eyebrow. "Father... Odin just agreed? That easily?"
"What else?" Hermione rolled her eyes, then held up the token Odin had given her. The light barrier across the cell dissolved.
Loki chuckled and stepped out at a leisurely stroll.
Knowing his mother was safe, he'd already reverted to his usual insufferable self.
"I have to say — you're far more refreshing than I expected. Working for you is considerably more comfortable than being Odin's son." He said it with a grin.
"Then move faster," Hermione said. "Time is tight. The sooner I get the Aether, the sooner you get to 'die.'"
Loki shook his head. He glanced at the cells around them, wrecked and empty, who knew how many prisoners had scattered during the Dark Elf attack. He made a quiet mental note.
When he was king, he'd have to hunt them all down again.
Tsk. What a headache.
...
Inside the palace.
"Hey, long time no see. So you're my idiot brother's..."
CRACK.
Loki hadn't even finished his opening line before Jane crossed the room and slapped him across the face.
The sound was sharp and clean. Loki blinked, completely blindsided.
"That was for New York," Jane said flatly.
Loki pressed a hand to his cheek, expression somewhere between aggrieved and resigned.
Then you've hit the wrong person. His gaze slid instinctively toward Hermione.
"Well done," Hermione said.
Loki:...
Damn.
---
Svartalfheim. Barren. Silent. Dead.
Wind tore across the surface in long, howling sweeps, dragging curtains of dust with it.
The three of them touched down. Jane looked around, visibly curious.
"This is Svartalfheim? It's so... bleak."
She'd been imagining something like an alien city. At least something resembling Asgard.
"Dark Elves," Hermione said. "They've got darkness. What do they need urban development for?"
"Still beats the Asgardian dungeons," Loki muttered.
"There's the mothership."
Hermione shifted. A black-and-red gale erupted around her, and the next moment she'd swept Loki and Jane off the ground and was hurtling across the wasteland toward the most prominent shape on the horizon, the Dark Elf Mothership, vast and angular against the grey sky.
They touched down in front of it without a stumble.
Jane's face was bone-white. She grabbed Hermione's arm with both hands and didn't let go, still catching her breath from whatever that had been.
Below the mothership, Malekith stared at them with an expression of pure bewilderment.
When he'd first seen that mass of black-and-red tearing across the sky, he'd genuinely thought the Aether had gone sentient and come home on its own. Then he'd seen Hermione, and something cold had clicked into place.
"You—"
"Imperio!"
He hadn't even finished the word. Hermione cast without preamble, and the curse hit him square.
"Extract the Aether," she said.
Malekith's eyes went blank. He turned toward Jane with mechanical precision. Jane went limp, unconscious before she'd hit the ground.
Dark crimson energy poured out of her in slow, spiraling ribbons and gathered in the air above her.
The Aether.
Loki stared.
What is happening right now?
Whatever happened to a proper battle? An epic clash? Three hundred rounds at minimum?
How are we already past the enemy leader?
You're not even following the script!
Back in New York, she'd at least pretended to be a normal person. Now she wasn't even bothering to act.
Hermione paid Loki's spiraling thoughts no attention whatsoever. She was on a schedule. She still had a scene to arrange, and she needed the Aether to do it.
She looked at the mass of crimson energy floating in the air. Reached out her hand.
An invisible force gathered and compressed. The Aether shattered into fine powder in an instant.
Then the powder pulled itself back together, shifting, solidifying, until a small crystalline red gem rested in the air before her.
The Reality Stone.
Hermione produced her pendant and pressed the stone into its setting.
On the pendant, four colors blazed with dazzling light.
"Pfft—" Loki nearly choked.
Hold on. When did the Time Stone end up in your hands?!
What exactly happened while I was sitting in that cell?!
He felt, very distinctly, like someone who'd been left behind while his friends snuck out to have adventures without him.
Left out. Excluded.
Whatever happened to our partnership? You went solo? Just like that? Can we not even play together anymore?
And more importantly, you've quietly collected four Infinity Stones. Four. What is your plan here?
Are you trying to take over everything?
"Done."
Hermione clapped her hands once and turned to look at Malekith.
"Now. Your turn."
She jabbed her wand.
Malekith's soul tore free of his body.
A technique learned, in full, from the Ancient One.
Hermione sliced it neatly and sealed it away, a new Horcrux.
"Perfect." She gave a small, satisfied nod.
The whole sequence had taken maybe two minutes. Loki's scalp was crawling.
The Dark Elf warriors surrounding them had been staring this entire time. Now, finally, the shock wore off. Weapons came up. Every one of them aimed at Hermione.
Invisible psychic force flooded the area all at once.
Ancient Magic: Link!
"Imperio!"
Every warrior froze mid-movement. Their eyes went vacant, arms dropping to their sides, a field of marionettes with no one holding the strings.
"Alright." Hermione's voice was entirely calm. "You can handle the rest. I'm sure you know how to play this for Jane and Thor."
A portal split open in the air beside her. She stepped through and was gone.
...
Jane's eyes opened slowly.
Her thoughts were scattered at first, then gradually sharpened. She blinked at the sky.
"What... what happened..."
She looked around. Still beside the Dark Elf Mothership. But she was on the ground now, tied back-to-back with Loki.
The restless, clawing feeling that had lived inside her for months was gone. She knew immediately, the Aether had been removed.
The relief was immediate. Then she noticed their situation, and the relief curdled.
Why are Loki and I tied up?
"What's going on? Where's Hermione?" she asked, urgent.
Loki sighed. "After Malekith extracted the Aether, he used its power to flee. Hermione went after him. We were detained by what's left of his forces."
Jane's stomach dropped.
If she'd known it would go this way, she would've insisted Thor come along.
At least then someone here could actually fight.
"It's fine. I have a plan," Loki said, and then, very quietly, conjured a duplicate.
The illusion was flawless, perfect posture, perfect face, perfectly Loki in every detail.
"Hey! Over here, you ugly bastards!" the duplicate shouted.
Every head in the vicinity turned.
In that same moment, Loki called a small blade into his hand and cut through the ropes without a sound.
"Move. Now," he murmured.
They crouched low and edged toward the perimeter of the Dark Elves' formation.
The gap closed faster than expected.
Several warriors caught the movement. They broke from the group and charged, weapons raised.
Loki met them with the knife, fast, economical, but clearly improvised. He wasn't a fighter. He'd never been one. The Dark Elves had numbers, and within moments he was being pushed back, struggling to hold ground.
Jane watched, helpless, from behind him.
Then one of the warriors broke away from the scuffle.
He came around behind her, silent and quick. His weapon came up. He aimed it at the center of her back.
➤ Next: The Death of Loki
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