The Theater of the Divine.
The morning sun bathed the mountain peak observatory in a brilliant, warm glow. Below the royal pavilion, an opera was in full swing, depicting a dramatic—if historically questionable—account of the war against the Frost Giants.
"Laufey!" the actor playing Odin bellowed, thrusting a wooden spear toward the sky. "In the name of the All-Father! Return to the frozen wastes of Jotunheim!"
The actor playing the Frost Giant King was a large, comedic fellow in blue body paint. His movements were intentionally clumsy, stumbling over his own feet as he "retreated," which sent the Asgardian audience into fits of uproarious laughter.
Loki sat in the center of the pavilion, draped in emerald silks and attended by four maidservants who peeled grapes and fanned him with white feathers. He looked every bit the spoiled, decadent prince.
"Thor"—or rather, Hela in a very convincing blonde wig and muscle suit—marched into the venue, radiating an aura of low-pressure gloom. She looked at her "brother" and felt a sudden, visceral urge to drag him out by his ears and thrash him.
"Discretion, you little monster," Hela hissed through their mental link. "You warned me to be a careful actor, yet look at you. Frigga will suspect something is wrong by dinner."
Loki offered a lazy, half-lidded smile but didn't speak. He had told Hela to be careful not to steal the show, but he was intentionally overplaying his hand. There was a perverse thrill in leaving clues—a breadcrumb trail of anomalies for those closest to the target. He wanted to see the look on Frigga's face when she finally realized the "son" she was pampering was a ghost from another world. It was a new kind of storytelling, and Loki was the lead author.
"Oh... my son," Loki said, his voice a perfect mimicry of Odin's aging rumble.
"Father," Hela replied stiffly, reciting her lines. "My sister's injuries are stable. The healers say she will be fully recovered in two months."
Loki didn't mention the existence of the other Hela. Instead, he reached out and patted "Thor's" massive arm. "You have grown, Thor. Your father is pleased. To celebrate your victory, I have ordered the Dwarf King to forge you a new divine weapon. As for Mjolnir..."
"Buzz~"
Loki made a casual grasping motion. To Hela's shock, the legendary hammer, which had been resting on "Thor's" belt, flew autonomously into Loki's palm.
How? Hela thought, her mental shields nearly cracking. He was disguised as Odin, yes, but he lacked the "worthiness" of the soul that Mjolnir required.
Unless... Loki gripped the handle and whispered, his voice carrying the weight of a decree: "I—the uncrowned King of Asgard—with the Sky and Earth as witnesses, bestow upon the one before me Mjolnir's eternal companionship."
He looked "Thor" in the eye, his gaze piercing. "Except for this King and the one before me, any who attempt to lift this hammer shall bear the weight of Asgard's Sky and Earth. If you lose your way, the hammer's spirit shall cloud until you find yourself again. Go, my little darling."
He handed the hammer back. It reattached to Hela's waist with a heavy thud.
[Chaos Points +50, +50, +50...]
[INTERFACE REWARD: Aesir God Body Enhancement (Solar Density).]
"You..." Hela finally found her mental voice. "You've taken the authority of Asgard's heart! Did the old man's pulse transfer to you when he died?"
"Sister, guess," Loki replied playfully. "Call it Word Magic. With the blessings of two generations of God-Kings on the leather, this hammer is now special. I'll help you strengthen it later. It makes a wonderful secondary weapon for smashing skulls."
The Two Queens.
Late that night, Loki and Hela (Number One) walked into the restricted healing ward of the Palace. Hela Number Two—the survivor of this world—was leaning against her headboard, her eyes sharp and waiting.
With her heavy "warrior" makeup removed, she looked remarkably different. She possessed the mature, haunting charm of a woman in her prime—a "Titanic" beauty that had weathered a millennium of storms.
"Straight to the point," Hela Number Two said, her voice a raspy echo of her sister's. "I want in. I'll be as obedient as she is."
Hela Number One snorted. "I'm in charge of this team, 'Rose.' Brother, tell her how it is."
"Rose?" Hela Number Two arched an eyebrow.
"A new name for a new life," Loki said, pulling up a chair. "There are a billion Helas in the Multiverse. If you want to be unique, you start with a name. From now on, you are Rose."
Rose considered it, a small, cold smile touching her lips. "Rose. I like it. So, what is the 'brain' of the team planning next?"
"We plunder the Infinity Stones of this world," Loki said. "Space, Time, Power, and Soul. I've verified that losing them won't collapse this reality immediately. As a token of your entry, you and my sister will team up to retrieve the Power and Soul stones. I'll handle the rest."
"I agree," Rose said, her gaze shifting to Hela Number One. "This team is young. If you had the Stones already, your own Odin would be a memory by now. Other me... once we finish here, I'll help you kill your father. Then we are even."
Hela Number One tossed her hair back. "That was the old me. Now, I have a brother who can rewrite the laws of the hammer. Do you?"
"I don't," Rose admitted, her eyes filled with a strange, dark amusement. "But I have the sense to follow the one who does."
The Vengeance of the Heart.
"Wait," Loki interrupted, looking at his sister. "I need to be clear. I will stop you from killing our Odin."
Hela Number One's expression darkened, but Loki continued before she could roar. "He raised me. And besides... haven't you learned? There is a revenge far more satisfying than a quick death."
"Oh?" Rose chimed in, leaning forward. "I feel the love in this room."
"I've spent my time on Vormir studying you, little Loki," Hela Number One said, her voice dropping into a dangerous purr. "I've changed my mind. Odin loves Thor, so I will force him to watch as I make you the King. He indulged in the flesh of exotic beauties, so I will strip him of his manhood and his sight. I will imprison him in the heart of the palace, and we will visit him every day to remind him of what he lost. That is my price."
Loki hesitated, then gave a slow, measured nod. It was a venomous, lingering fate—precisely what the Goddess of Death excelled at.
Rose clicked her tongue in admiration. "Unparalleled love, indeed."
"Don't you love him, too?" Hela Number One retorted.
Rose fell silent. They both did. In the dark, sunless silence of their respective prisons, they had both loved the man who had discarded them. And because of that love, the hatred had become a living thing that consumed them.
Loki watched them, two versions of the same tragic story. He couldn't fully empathize, but he understood the assignment. He would help them step out of the vortex of hatred, even if he had to burn a few worlds to do it.
"May we all find a better future," Loki toasted with a glass of water from the nightstand. "Starting tomorrow, the hunt for the Stones begins."
If you like it, please give power stones.