The Alchemy of the Heart.
It was late afternoon. Eight heavy carriages, their wheels rattling against the golden cobblestones, rolled out of the main gates of the Palace. Lulu had been thorough; three of the carriages were filled with Heart-Shaped Herbs that had already been picked and dried, while the others contained pressurized cultivation tanks holding live specimens. Loki hoped that with enough Vanir magic, the soil of Asgard could be coaxed into sustaining the Midgardian mutation.
As the carriages moved steadily toward the city's outskirts, Loki leaned back against the silk cushions, his mind drifting toward the horizon.
He knew that Lulu had seen the shift in him—the weight in his gaze and the deliberate nature of his movements. When Odin finally returned from his "World Tour," the old man's eye would pierce through any facade. Loki's best choice was to be gone before that happened. An "interstellar trade mission" was the perfect cover. It would give him the months he needed to invade a parallel world with Hela without having to answer to a father who was becoming increasingly muddled.
Loki sighed. It was the eternal annoyance of having a crown hanging over his head. If the timeline would just hurry along to Odin's rest, he could step onto the throne and do away with the cloak-and-dagger routine.
Kingship is power, but it is also responsibility, he reminded himself. He'd seen too many leaders throughout history fall into the trap of self-indulgence. Odin, once the wisest of the Nine, was currently obsessed with exotic beauties across the realms, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his wife and son had broken his most sacred law by rescuing Hela.
Loki realized he needed a "mirror"—someone to reflect his own ugliness back to him before he became a slave to his own desires. Goria, Lulu, and Hela were too close to him, too entangled in his shadow. Only his mother, Frigga, held that kind of clarity. He made a mental note to seek her counsel more often. A King who doesn't listen to his mirror eventually goes blind.
The Witch's Brew.
The carriages pulled up to Mave's residence, where the low ivy-covered walls shimmered in the twilight. The old woman stood beneath the shade of an ancient oak, waving as Loki stepped down.
"Good afternoon, Mave," Loki greeted her.
"The lucky star shone last night," Mave said warmly, her eyes twinkling. "I guessed you would come. Forgive me for not preparing a four-leaf clover for our God of Wisdom."
"A cup of black tea will suffice as a peace offering," Loki laughed.
Inside the living room, the steam rose from two cups of perfectly tempered tea. Loki pushed a box of the Heart-Shaped Herbs across the table. Mave sniffed the leaves, her expression thoughtful.
"A miracle of life," she murmured. "It's a pity you missed the chance to add this to your own Ymir inheritance."
"I have enough power for now," Loki said, sipping his tea. "Goria and Lulu need this enhancement more. Their divine bodies are delicate."
Mave nodded. "I will develop a basic potion to enhance physique. Once the standard is met, I can move the younger Witches toward the second-tier Ymir inheritance. As for your companions... this potion has its limits. Don't expect them to become Valkyries overnight."
"I have other methods for them," Loki replied.
They reached a silent agreement. The herbs would be shared, and Mave would prioritize a batch for Frigga. While the Queen had already undergone her inheritance, her focus had always been on the mind and magic; a physical boost from the Heart-Shaped Herb would provide an extra layer of safety in the coming storms.
"And what of your Black Panther?" Mave asked. "And Sleipnir? If the eight-legged steed takes this herb long-term, he might undergo a second transformation. Even Fenrir, should he return, would benefit."
Loki stroked his chin. "I'll make the arrangements. The panther is already a handful; a second mutation might make her truly formidable."
The Eve of the Breach.
The weeks that followed were a blur of preparation and calculated hedonism.
Loki attended the fleet's homecoming banquet on the second day, using his Psychic Mastery to subtly boost the morale and loyalty of the crew. By the time the mead stopped flowing, the sailors would have walked into Hel for him.
Then, there was the matter of his "Ice and Fire" schedule. With Goria back at the Palace and Lulu settled in after her voyage, Loki found his time split with mathematical precision: Goria on the odd days, Lulu on the even, and weekends reserved for recovery and his secret visits to Vormir.
Hela was growing impatient. Every time he jumped to Vormir, she was waiting by the portal, her black robes snapping in the wind. "Is it time?" she would demand. "When do we draw blood?"
"Soon," Loki would promise. "The stars are almost right."
By mid-November, the All-Father's retinue finally returned to Asgard. A grand celebration was held, but the atmosphere was strained. Frigga looked exhausted—not physically, but in her soul. She was trying to advise Odin on the shifting tensions in the Nine Realms, but the King was content to live in the glow of his recent travels.
Loki stayed by his mother's side for as long as he could, delaying his departure. But eventually, the moment came.
Lulu's fleet was the first to leave, embarking on their second long-distance trade voyage. On a quiet, unremarked night shortly after, Loki bid a silent farewell to his mother. He didn't take a scout-ship this time; he piloted a medium-sized Asgardian warship, the Shadow-Stalker, into the deep dark of the universe.
As he cleared the boundary of the Nine Realms, the Eye of Agamotto around his neck began to glow with an emerald light. He tore open a spatial rift and rendezvoused with Hela on the outskirts of Vormir.
She stood on the bridge of the warship, her Cloak of Evernight swirling around her like a living galaxy. She looked at Loki, her eyes burning with a cold, predatory joy.
"Finally," she whispered. "Which world do we break first?"
"The one where we win," Loki replied. "But before we jump... we need a meeting of the minds. We aren't just going there to kill. We're going to harvest."
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