The Golden Streets of a Mirror World.
The afternoon sun of this parallel Asgard was a searing, brilliant gold, illuminating a city that was both intimately familiar and jarringly different. Loki, transformed into the form of a seven-year-old cub, walked alongside a sixteen-year-old Hela. They moved through the market district dressed in standard, nondescript Asgardian tunics, blending into the ebb and flow of a city recovering from a night of heavy celebration.
"Ice Bear Street has been renamed Eagle Street," Loki whispered, his golden eyes scanning the signage. "And Lulu... I can't find a trace of her. Her family estate is a bakery now."
Hela's voice hissed in his mind, sharp as a necro-blade. "Focus on the mission, you little rascal! If you waste another breath looking for your merchant-concubine, I'll give you a beating you'll feel across the Multiverse!"
"This is reconnaissance, Sister," Loki replied telepathically. "In every world, we exist, yet the people around us shift and vanish. It proves that we are the protagonists, puppets of a grander fate. The fact that Lulu doesn't exist here is a form of ignorant bliss for this world."
Hela narrowed her eyes, glancing down at him. "Story? Puppets? It's a poetic notion, but we've already stepped out of the framework. We broke the cycle when we took the Stones."
Loki nodded solemnly. "True. But it doesn't hurt to consider the love I have for—"
THWACK.
Hela flicked his forehead with the force of a hammer strike.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"For slacking off," Hela snorted. "Your deep thoughts have nothing to do with beheading Odin. Now, tell me you've gathered actual intelligence, or I'll use your head as a training dummy."
Loki rubbed the growing bump on his brow. "I have. Through the handmaidens' minds, I've learned the most important detail. The Loki of this world... is a woman."
Hela paused. Her eyes widened, and then she threw her head back and let out a roar of laughter that made the nearby citizens jump. "A girl? You? Hahaha! Oh, that is perfect! Hahahahaha!"
Loki lowered his head, his face burning with humiliation. "Is it really that funny?"
"It's magnificent," Hela gasped, patting his shoulder with mock-affection. "My dear little brother, it's up to you now. If you take down Odin, I might even give you that super-reward you've been pining for."
Loki's eyes sparked. "The one I want most?"
"The very one. Now, get to work."
Infiltration of the Palace.
Under the shroud of midnight, Loki activated his concealment mask. He drifted through the corridors of the Golden Palace like a wisp of smoke, reading the psychic imprints left by the palace staff.
He learned the rhythm of this world. Odin was a shadow of the man Loki knew—indulgent, distracted, his bed filled with seductive snake-women from the outer realms, his prestige crumbling under the weight of his own appetites. Frigga was a cold, distant figure, obsessed with securing Thor's succession.
And then there was Thor. This world's God of Thunder looked like a golden idol—sunny, clean, and far more charismatic than Loki's own brutish brother.
Finally, he found his counterpart: Lady Loki. She was currently drowning her sorrows in the side hall, heartbroken over a failed romance.
Perfect, Loki thought.
He waited until the hour of the wolf. Transforming his shape into a perfect replica of Lady Loki, he picked up a fresh pot of aged wine and staggered toward Thor's personal quarters.
"Greetings, Your Highness," a handmaiden whispered, bowing.
"Mm," Loki slurred, waving a hand. "I need to speak with my brother."
He entered the chambers, setting several bottles of wine on the table. Thor looked up from his bed, rubbing his eyes. "Sister? It's late."
"I can't sleep," Loki whimpered, collapsing into a chair. "I want to drink with you, Thor. Just like when we were children."
Thor sat down, offering a clean, sympathetic smile. "Mother said you broke up. I'm sorry, Loki."
Loki took a long, dramatic swig of wine. "Tell me, Brother... am I not pretty? Is my figure not enough? Why did she leave me? Why?!"
Thor choked on his own breath. "Cough! She? You said... she?"
[Fun points +10, +10, +10...]
Loki's eyes watered with feigned hysteria. "Didn't I tell you? I've realized that men are... missing something. And she was perfect, Thor! Perfect!"
Thor sighed, scratching his golden hair. "Sister, you are fifteen hundred years old. I respect your choices, but... perhaps you don't understand the true meaning of love. If she left, she wasn't worthy."
"You don't understand anything!" Loki shrieked, slamming the table.
"Right, right," Thor said quickly, his ears ringing. He raised his glass. "I don't understand. Let's just drink. We won't stop until the sun rises."
The Sleep of the Thunderer.
They drank, glass for glass. As Thor reached for the final bottle, Loki subtly palmed a vial of Mave's strongest anesthetic—a potion designed to fell a frost giant. He slipped it into Thor's half-empty goblet.
"To siblings!" Loki toasted.
"To siblings," Thor agreed, draining the glass.
Three seconds later, the God of Thunder's eyes glazed over. He slumped forward, his head hitting the table with a dull thud. Loki caught him before he slid off the chair.
"Sweet dreams, golden boy," Loki whispered.
He dragged the massive man into the bedroom and stuffed him into the back of a large, ornate wardrobe. With a flick of his finger, he cast a high-level illusion, making Thor's body look like a pile of silk capes. He sealed the wardrobe with a locking spell and a ward of silence.
Then came the final test. Loki transformed his appearance into a perfect replica of Thor. He walked to the bedside where Mjolnir lay, humming with dormant electricity.
Loki focused. He tapped into the Uru Gauntlet, simulating the thunderous frequency of Thor's divine signature. He reached out and grasped the leather-wrapped handle.
The hammer didn't resist. It flew into his hand, sparks of blue lightning dancing across his knuckles. The transformation that deceived fate was complete.
Loki lay down on Thor's bed, resting his eyes but staying alert. Tomorrow morning, at nine, the gate would open. He would lead Odin out to "save" Hela, and then... the real fun would begin.
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