The flight to New York was unremarkable. The atmosphere on board was tense, there was no conversation, there were no windows to stare out, in general, it was deadly boring. I had to entertain myself with self-analysis and attempts to understand whether I had gone completely crazy, voluntarily allowing myself to be taken to the most powerful telepath on the planet?
It turned out that I hadn't gone crazy, I just didn't always consciously perceive the conclusions and predictions of my own brain. Being, of course, determines consciousness, but my consciousness had been in Loki's body for too long to have time to adapt, and meanwhile, the God of Cunning was far from a fool with one convolution, even by the standards of the Aesir, and against the background of the human brain... He simply thought faster and could distribute attention to dozens of tasks at once, without losing efficiency. I, having inherited the skills, had not yet fully gotten used to them and had not managed to transfer the entire baggage of intellectual skills to the "conscious" column. Thus, it turned out that the world suddenly became simpler and clearer for me, the answers were ready even before the conscious formulation of the question, and I could act without thinking, but immediately focusing on the feeling of how it would be right to act. Consciousness simply did not have time to follow the process of information processing, and the process of reasoning leading to final conclusions ultimately eluded perception, although it did not disappear from memory.
What a feeling, actually...
But getting back to the topic of Xavier. Firstly, my mind was protected by magic, and although this protection could, in theory, be broken through, it was physically impossible to do so unnoticed, and quickly enough so that I wouldn't have time to wring the telepath's neck. Secondly, whatever you say, Xavier is one of the most ethical and highly moral characters in the Marvel Universe, in any of its manifestations. If he were just a person whose principles allowed immoral actions for the greater good, he would have already enslaved the world, turning all governments of all countries into his obedient puppets, and mutants would never have had any problems with war with ordinary people. In other words, he is not the type to gut the brains of an interlocutor without a truly compelling reason. While there's no guarantee in these matters, hey, dealing with Xavier is safer than dealing with anyone else with that level of power. Finally, the third point, which was probably the deciding factor and what prompted me to contact Logan and Rogue in the first place: the X-Men were a good start. I mean, they have the resources to start looking for a way out of this universe. If I hadn't risked contact with Wolverine, it would have taken me weeks to get out of Canada without really knowing where to go. And my time is limited, even if there's no Chitauri invasion led by Loki. Of course, I would like to believe that since there are X-Men here, this is not the Avengers universe, and Thanos with the Infinity Stones is not here, but that was the catch - Thanos existed here, and Loki heard about him, just as the Stones existed, and that means there will be trouble.
And here comes another point: I don't feel like a hero at all, and taking into account the digested memory of the God of Deception, even less so. After all, a Hero is someone who has something to protect and is ready to lay down his life for it. Well, where can I be a hero in this universe? What am I here to protect? Asgard, which is completely alien to me? Earth, which has nothing in common with my own except Elon Musk and McDonald's? Honestly, I would never have thought it, but this media fake, I mean Elon Musk, exists here too, well, look at that – it leaked out, as the memories of local residents told me. But still, what can I talk about if there is nothing at all native to me in this entire universe?
Yes, I am clearly going crazy and there is inadequacy in my actions, be it joyful rushes into fights, thoughts about women, the desire to troll everyone, being a bigger Loki than Loki himself, and, finally, complete indifference to murder. This is bad. I admit it. But I can't do anything yet - I suspect that my subconscious is thus struggling with the stress of the transfer of consciousness. However, even in this inadequacy, I do not want and will not risk my life for the laurels of another Marvel movie hero. In the Marvel cinematic universe, it is generally dangerous to be a hero - they are killed. And even if they manage to drag and overcome everything, this does not mean that they did not screw up and it did not only get worse.
So no. Get out. Just get out. Even if I'm now a psycho for life, I'm a psycho who knows for sure that there are more than one universe and that you can travel between them, therefore, all I need is to find a way to travel. Unfortunately, I don't remember any ready-made solutions in the movie universe, but in the Marvel universe, as a more global concept, they are present. Both magical and based on superpowers like mutant ones, and even purely scientific. Xavier can really help me with their search, at least at first. And in any case, it will be much easier to understand the realities of the world around me in his school than wandering through the forests of Canada on my own.
And speaking of my psychopathy... there's something to it. Maybe it's an echo of Loki's habits, but I get a real kick out of it when I blurt out another gem that makes people around me feel awkward. It's not like I was a tongue-tied introvert with a phobia of human society in my past life, but even when I made a good joke in good company, it still felt off somehow, and here... I feel like God.
Literally.
The feeling of magic, space, the breath of the world, the physical strength that allows you to tear steel... I like it. I definitely like it. And also the way I can behave while doing it. It's awesome. Very awesome.
So, having spent the entire flight thinking in varying degrees of confusion and adequacy, I was not tired at all. We reached our destination by evening and in the twilight landed in a hangar hidden under a basketball court. I'm not kidding, if in cartoons they flew out of the hangar doors in some rock, then here they really built an airfield under a basketball court, which moved to the side when it was time to take off or land. It looked cool, but I began to suspect that Professor X still allows himself some liberties with erasing the memories of those around him, otherwise I just don't know how he explained it to the construction crew that dug all this and installed the mechanisms. Although, he is rich, and money is a very special superpower in a capitalist society.
Listening to our pilots' conversations with half an ear, I renewed and strengthened my mind's magical protection just in case, almost missing the moment the chassis touched the hard surface. I must admit, this vertical takeoff aircraft has a rather soft landing. In the hangar itself, a bald, respectable gentleman in a wheelchair and a red-haired lady in a red dress were already waiting for us.
- Hello. My name is Professor Charles Xavier, and this is Doctor Jean Grey, - the telepath introduced himself, driving closer to the ramp. - And you must be Wolverine, Loki and Rogue? - with a polite smile he ran his gaze over our faces in order.
"Hello," Logan responded gruffly, looking around the underground landing pad with the expression of a man who, on the one hand, is impressed, but on the other, no longer expects anything good from fate.
"Good day," I nod to the mutants, noting with affection out of the corner of my eye how Rogue is naturally shying away from everything around him. "Although it's probably night. And I hope we shouldn't expect Dr. Banner to come over? His green problem isn't something I'd like to spend the night with."
- I beg your pardon? - the professor was surprised.
- As I understand it, you have a mutant hobby group here, and there aren't so many guys with a doctorate among mutants that, having met two in one place, you wouldn't expect a third. And don't twirl your finger at your temple behind my back, sharp-eyed one, I'm much less crazy than I seem... or more than you think, but these are details.
"Scott," the professor looked at the guy behind me with disapproval.
"Sorry," he looked down.
"No, we don't have any Dr. Banner," the telepath turned his attention to us again. "But be that as it may, I'm glad to welcome you to my home."
"Yeah, yeah, we get it," Logan replied. "I still don't fully understand why this is all happening, though."
- We will try to answer your questions, but I believe the hangar is not the best place for this. I suggest you follow me to my office.
"Okay," Wolverine agreed. Rogue, being the youngest and not understanding much, preferred to nod silently.
At this point, the entire delegation followed from the room with the plane into a silvery corridor, like the takeoff pad, decorated with a claim to futurism. Inside, it was light, clean and, in general, very similar to the films. But Xavier did not let us look at the secret part of his house for too long, leading us to the elevator. A short ride - and we came out into a completely different environment: wooden panels, paintings, draperies and various pleasant little things, like clocks and bronze statues on the cabinets. The office corresponded to the estate - a high-quality and expensively furnished room, but without flashy luxury, I would even say that it was quite cozy here.
"So?" I sat down in a comfortable chair in front of the table, where Xavier had already moved in, and continued the conversation.
"Let me start a little from afar," the man folded his hands into a cup, "from this place and what I do."
"Hmm-m-m…" Wolverine wasn't too thrilled with the idea, but he didn't go beyond a disgruntled moan.
"This place is a home for gifted children. Gifted in their own way. Here we teach mutants how to control and develop their abilities, and protect them from the threats of the outside world. Anonymity is the best protection for mutants in a hostile society. Cyclops, Storm, and Jean were my first students," the professor nodded at the designated ones. "I protected them, taught them to control their abilities, and eventually teach others to do the same," Rogue received an encouraging smile. "Most of the students are runaways. Scared, alone… some are so powerful that they are dangerous to themselves and others, but here they are among their own. They are accepted here and not shunned."
- Wow... - the girl clearly liked the postulate. - Can you teach me not to put any person who touches me into a coma?!
"We'll do our best," Xavier smiled again. "I can't promise it will work, but you'll always have a place to stay and people who will accept you for who you are."
- And what's the catch? - The regenerator was not used to trusting anyone.
"There is no catch," Charles answered calmly. "We do not hold anyone by force, and each student is free to choose what he needs more. Those who wish can leave the college at any time, but even after they finish studying the program, they have a choice: either to return to society as educated young people, or to stay here to teach others and become part of our large family.
- Excuse me, professor, - I was itching again and just couldn't keep my mouth shut, - but how do these words about goodness and protection correlate with a hidden hangar, a high-tech stealth aircraft and a couple of individuals dressed in something suspiciously similar to some kind of special forces uniform? This looks more like some kind of PMC than a school for "gifted" kids.
- This is the second part of our life. In this world, there are mutants endowed with incredible power, and many of them do not share my respect for humanity, as well as the idea of coexistence with people. If they are not opposed, humanity will perish. This is precisely why everything you listed exists, Loki. All this and much more besides.
– So you founded and maintain a certain group that carries certain cultural, ideological or political doctrines, and you allow the use of violence and heavy military equipment to defend these doctrines and interests? In other words, you are not averse to deliberate, politically motivated violence committed against civilians or objects by subnational groups at the federal level or by underground agents and organizations, usually with the aim of influencing the mood of society?
"Hey, we're not doing anything against civilians!" Cyclops protested.
- So, transporting corpses, weapons and illegally crossing the border is for the benefit of the civilian population? And this is only one episode that we know about for sure and even participated in! - I happily slapped my palms on the armrests of the chair. - Great, we have pacifist terrorists here! A rare species!
"Terrorists?" Rogue breathed.
"It's not quite as your friend said," the elderly mutant in the wheelchair sighed sadly, "although, I have to admit, from a formal point of view, everything may look a little unsightly. He's really impenetrable, and I still thought that Wolverine was unperturbed."
- Oh, don't think that I'm judging you or want to offend you, - I smile conciliatory. - I don't mind. After all, I am the God of Deception, Mischief and Evil Jokes, and what could be more mischievous than a crowd of trained and armed supersoldiers uncontrolled by the authorities a couple of hundred kilometers from Washington? Besides, the girls look amazing in this uniform, - I throw a meaningful glance at Storm.
"I don't want to see my students as soldiers," the telepath objected seriously. "That's why some of them still have to do what they do. To protect the rest, both from ordinary people and from people like Magneto."
"Explain already what the hell this is," Logan asked tiredly, he was clearly irritated by the "stupid name" of the potential enemy, my buffoonery and the whole situation as a whole, but nothing, the man continued to hold on and Overcome.
- One of the extremely powerful mutants, plotting to start a war between mutants and the rest of humanity. His power is the control of metals, and, in addition to this, he leads his own organization of radical mutants, of which Sabretooth was a part.
- Sabretooth, Cyclops, Storm... - Logan looked at me skeptically, - Loki...
- Hey, that's my real name! And anyway, you call yourself Wolverine.
- ...now here's Magneto, - the regenerator stoically ignored my cry from the heart. - Do you also have a pompous nickname? A cart or something like that? - then Logan clearly intended to say something like "I've had enough, I'm getting out of this madhouse", but the professor just looked at him, and the mutant cut himself off mid-sentence. He even looked around huntedly. - ...Okay, you've convinced me.
- Hmm-m-m, these aren't the droids you're looking for? - I nod towards Logan.
- No, - the professor smiled with the corners of his lips, - I simply showed that I also have a gift. From an early age, I realized that I can influence people's minds, make them think and act as I wish. Then I realized how great the responsibility of the owner of such a gift must be. At seventeen, I met a guy named Eric Lensher. He also had a gift, he could create powerful magnetic fields of a very specific configuration and thus control metals. Together we began to look for other mutants and protect our rights, but ... he became disillusioned with this path and decided to fight humanity, and not try to get along. After that, he became known as Magneto.
"And why would he send his bully after us?" Wolverine bowed his head, judging by the expression on his face, already resigned and deciding to take the information seriously.
- That's what I want to know. Give me three days. In the meantime, I suggest you stay as guests in this house.
"Okay…" Logan answered after some thought. "Loki, Rogue?"
- A-a-a, can I come to you? Well, study? - the girl did not think for long.
"Of course, we will always be glad to see other mutants," the professor now smiled much more openly and warmly.
- Well, I have nowhere to go anyway and it makes no difference, so we can stay with you, besides, I would like to discuss a few issues individually later, - I felt my mind being carefully touched, apparently, Charles was not against discussing the topics that interested me one-on-one and in front of a crowd of people. - No, no, - as expected, mental magic allowed me to easily push the visitor out, not even allowing him to reach the first line of permanent defense - the Labyrinth of Reflections, - let's do without this, believe me, it will be better for us to communicate in normal language, - some interest lit up in Xavier's eyes, as did Jean Gray, who, by the way, although she was not a "crocodile", but, like Rogue, was at most a pretty girl, but not a stunning femme fatale, as she is described in comics and cartoons. However, by local standards, she may actually be in the Top 10 beauties of the planet, who knows how bad things are here on Earth? If the local Sif - a natural Goddess and the first beauty of Asgard - wasn't even given normal boobs, then what can we expect from Midgard? Ah, I'm already tired of whining about the fact that there is only one beautiful woman in the entire universe. And I won't be very surprised if she ends up being a lesbian.
"Okay," Xavier nodded with a conciliatory half-smile. "They'll prepare your rooms now, but for now I suggest we go to dinner. You must all have gotten hungry during the flight."
Logan and I turned out to be understanding people and began to stand up, followed by Rogue, and soon the entire crowd had already left the office, leaving the professor alone. As he managed to casually inform us, he had already had dinner. However, the silence in the office did not last long, and after waiting about a minute, Charles, pointedly looking away, said quietly:
- So what did you want to talk about?
"Impressive," I smiled from my chair, removing the illusion, "we talked for less than an hour, and you were already able to calculate my move and realized that I would stay for the conversation."
"Actually, I wasn't sure," the telepath responded to the smile, meeting my gaze, "but if you had really left, then no one would have known about my little embarrassment."
- That's reasonable, - I was starting to like this conversation more and more. - But let's get back to business. You're right - I have something to discuss with you, but the question is, are you ready to listen? Because, despite all your hospitality, something tells me that you still don't believe that the name I gave you is real.
"All mutant names based on their abilities are real, although they are not recorded in documents," Xavier's gaze became a little more serious. "But if you want to convince me that you are a real Scandinavian God of Deception, then I will be forced to ask you to back this up with something that cannot be explained by a banal mutation and possession of special training."
"To be honest, I prefer the title God of Magic," I wave my hand vaguely, slightly pursing my lips. "They didn't call me the God of Deception out of great love and respect. As for the evidence…" I bring my hands together, distorting the metrics of space, taking one of my daggers out of my subspace pocket. Not the best one — durability and sharpness were not the main focus when creating it, but its merit was not in this, but in the fact that my predecessor made it in imitation of Odin's Gungnir, "please," I stand up from the chair and hand Charles the quillon, shimmering with a golden shine.
"A medieval knight's dagger?" the telepath raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise as he accepted the weapon.
- A techno-magical artifact with a neural interface. If you grab the handle, you can command it to cover itself in a film of low-temperature stabilized plasma or to eject a clot of it from the tip. Unfortunately, the energy capacity of this contraption is rather modest - I made it a long time ago, but it is capable of burning a hole the size of a football in a person once a minute. Alas, not everyone is so fragile, and it is no longer very effective against aces, so you don't need to test it on me - it won't even scorch the skin.
"Is this a joke?" the professor asked, still holding the dagger with his fingertips, in bewilderment.
- Take it and you will find out. I think that with your abilities it will not be too difficult to understand the principles of mental control, as well as to understand that earthly science has hundreds of years to go to reach such a level, - I smile invitingly with the corner of my lips.
Looking at me with a wary, distrustful gaze, but still not trying to read my thoughts, Xavier slowly moved his right palm to the hilt and closed his fingers. The next moment his face twitched slightly, hinting at an attempt to wince, but he quickly pulled himself together and concentratedly closed his eyes. For a minute nothing happened, Charles sat motionless in his wheelchair, holding the dagger in front of him with one hand, as if he was listening to something. I knew roughly what he was doing now, and therefore did not interfere and politely kept quiet. Finally, the mutant's eyes opened, and a new expression splashed in them, as if he was simultaneously delighted and refusing to believe what he saw. A second - and the Quilon's blade was covered with an orange film of plasma with magical filling.
- This is... impressive, - Xavier said, looking at the shimmering "magic flame". - So these stories are true? The Elder Edda, the Younger Edda, the Song of the Nibelungs? - the man put out his dagger and looked up at me.
"Very relatively," I shake my head, wincing with part of my face. "Even in this age of the Internet and recording devices, people manage to distort any news ten times a day, and others believe them, having a video recording of real events in front of their eyes, so you shouldn't put too much faith in the drunken gossip of bandit savages, which each new generation supplemented with their own inventions.
"I see," Xavier put the blade down on the table and sat up straight in his chair. "And what does the real story look like?"
"It's quite long and not very important for our conversation," I lean on the armrests and fold my hands in front of me. "The important thing is that Asgard really does exist, as does Odin the Allfather, Thor the Thunderer, and…" I shrug, "me."
- And what are you doing on Earth?
"At the moment…" I pretend to choose my words, "I'm trying to take a break from my family," and I smile.
- Your wife Sigyn and children Narvi and Vali? - the professor showed his erudition.
- No, - I shake my head, - these are all human inventions. I have never been married and I don't plan to. I haven't had any children either. It's just that in a few months, my little brother Thor will be crowned in Asgard, and I don't want to see that, and I haven't been to Midgard for a long time. You probably have a couple of new books, music compositions, and good films.
"You don't get along very well with your brother?" Xavier continued his questioning, smiling at the mention of films.
- No, we get along great, it's just that while I was studying diplomacy, economics, the geopolitical structure of the universe and other subjects necessary for a ruler, Thor was beating up giants, hunting boars and, in between these activities, throwing six-month-long drinking parties surrounded by his friends. But in the end, he is the nation's beloved hero and heir to the throne, and I am the treacherous and vile God of Deception. The universe has a sense of humor.
"I must ask for forgiveness, this is probably a painful topic," the mutant repented with complete sincerity.
- Well... - I pretend to think. - It was painful about two hundred years ago, but now the circumstances have changed a little, and I no longer need the throne of Asgard. I even, in a sense, enjoy, anticipating what will begin there under the rule of Thor, - a not very kind grin crawled onto my face.
"And Odin, he…" Charles paused, choosing his words.
"No, he doesn't die," I understood the difficulty of my interlocutor. "He falls into a kind of coma, called Odin's Sleep. He can spend from several years to a couple of centuries in it and, it seems, even rejuvenate, but I'm not sure about the latter – in my memory, he has never entered it for long," I fall silent, plunging into someone else's memory, but quickly shake myself. "So he will be happy when he wakes up," I finish the story with appropriate joy.
- I see, - Xavier chuckled. - Thank you for satisfying my curiosity. But I don't think that enlightening an old sick man was the reason you decided to have a private conversation. What did you want to talk about without witnesses?
- I would like to know what your relationship is with the government of this country and, in particular, the S.H.I.E.L.D. organization.
- None, - the mutant shook his head with a knowing half-smile. And I couldn't understand how he felt about the fact that I even knew this name, his expression on his face and voice were too neutral. - At one time, I tried to cooperate with the authorities, but it didn't end well. S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to see mutants exclusively as their soldiers and special agents on a short leash, other forces in the government would like to experiment on us in order to reproduce the most powerful abilities, others would prefer to kill us. Therefore, none of those with whom I once worked now know anything about me, just as they do not know about this school.
"Are you sure you were able to clean up all the information that was collected on you?" I raise an eyebrow with genuine respect, but also a bit of skepticism.
"Thirty years ago it wasn't that difficult, and even now, in the age of information technology, little has changed. Formatting hard drives is even easier than taking paper files out of archives," Xavier's smile widened.
- Excellent... - I like this Professor X more and more. - Then the second question: what exactly do you disagree with Magneto about? Based on what I just heard, you can solve the problem of discrimination against mutants in literally a month's stay in Washington.
"That is the essence of our disagreements," the invalid darkened, somehow even aging at once. "I admit the possibility of using my powers on other people, but not in the way that is required to carry out what you are talking about. Interference in the consciousness, in the personality of a person is too serious an offense, this is what, from my point of view, completely falls under the definition of "crime against humanity," the blue eyes looked sharply into mine, making it clear that their owner was completely serious. "I once gave myself my word not to do so. Even the slightest substitution of motivation and feelings is in fact the murder of the former personality. The murder of a person. Having allowed yourself to do this once, you can not have time to look back, as you begin to kill in reality. First enemies, then those who do not agree with you, and finally those who are different from you. I am not a saint and I have made many mistakes in my life, but there are too many people in the world who follow this path without me. I want to give people and mutants an alternative.
- You know... - I thought deeply for a few seconds, looking at Xavier, so deeply that even my illusion, depicting a curious guest in the company of the other X-Men, stopped moving, since I no longer had enough attention, - this is very unusual. As a rule, people driven by a good idea want to make the whole world happy for free and so that no one leaves offended. In you, I see rather the position of giving a chance for salvation, but ready to accept the refusal to use this chance. But the strangest thing is that your desire to save... it seems... fervent.
- Yes, - Charles looked down at the floor. - That's right. I hope that humanity will find the strength and intelligence to overcome these times, and I am ready to make every effort to help them with this, - the blue eyes looked into mine again, - but both ordinary people and mutants must overcome their demons themselves. Otherwise, everything will be pointless.
- Well, Professor, I must admit, considering that you haven't even exchanged your first hundred, your intellect and wisdom surpass those of most Aesir and Vanir, - I admit with all sincerity, looking at Xavier in a new way. I had an extremely high opinion of him before, but now I am finally convinced that in front of me is truly the most worthy Man of this universe. A Man with a capital letter. After all, even if I couldn't always read his reactions by his facial expressions, but the experience of the previous Loki would have allowed me to notice or at least suspect an attempt to dissemble or outright lie, but my perception did not cut anything at all. - As you understand, there is no point in me adding myself to your staff of students, and teachers... I don't know yet, but with my character, I bet that most of the kids will howl on the second day, - the invalid nodded, accepting such arguments and offering to continue. - Nevertheless, I do not mind helping you with Magneto and other... things. True, only if you answer one question correctly. "Everything depends on him," I emphasized with intonation, trying in vain to hold back the grin creeping onto my face, but even covering my mouth with my fist, I was not very successful.
"And what is this?" the learned man inquired with curiosity.
– Do you have chocolate chip cookies at school?
- Hmm-m-m, - ha! I got him! - I think there are a few packs in the kitchen, - the mutant answered cautiously.
"Excellent," I stand up from my chair and extend my hand to Charles, "I'm your man! If, of course, you're interested in working with an eccentric divine entity," I add an important clarification.
"You know, this is not how I imagined meeting God…" the telepath said, shaking my hand.
– Did you think that this was some kind of majestic and insanely wise creature, since it smoked the sky for several dozen centuries, if not millennia?
"Something like that," the mutant nodded.
- Well, - I shrug, returning to the chair, - wisdom does not necessarily have to go with gravity. And between you and me, professor, what people now understand by the term "God" arose under the influence of the Abrahamic religions, and there is such a mess of throwing together the concepts of the Creator, the Universal Absolute, God and half a dozen other entities of different orders that I simply cannot imagine how you will explain yourself when you normally go into space. At least five galactic wars are already guaranteed for you, simply from the fact of insulting the monarchs.
"This… is not the kind of information I would like to hear at night," the man tried to turn the topic into a joke, a little hesitantly, but quite consciously.
"Don't worry, you still have five hundred years," I return to my chair, "you'll have time to survive even worse."
- That's encouraging, - the telepath smiled. - But, Loki, let me know what you want? Why did you come to Earth? The desire to kill boredom and a pack of cookies seem strange for someone who bears the title of God of Magic... and the rest, - did I mention that Charles is simply an arch-tactful person? I double my statement.
- Okay, frankness in exchange for frankness, - I straighten the hem of my coat. - I don't like this universe, it irritates me and drives me crazy, as a result of which I become completely unbearable. Nevertheless, I am superior in my mental development to the little bread, and therefore I am not going to try to bend it to myself, somehow rebuild or improve it, I am simply not interested in it, and therefore... I want to leave.
- Is there really nothing in our world that would evoke a positive response from you? - the professor's gaze changed slightly, plus the tone and timbre of his voice changed. Why would... oh!
- Ha-ha, - I laughed good-naturedly, - no, you misunderstood me, I was not thinking of committing suicide, I just really want to leave this universe. There are many more worlds than one, and I am not talking about Midgard, Asgard, Jotunheim or Helheim - there are other realities where other us live, or for some reason we are not in those stories. And there are those who live by completely different laws, with different constants and laws of existence. And I want to see it!
"Very interesting, but then I don't understand why you agreed to help me?" Charles wondered.
- It's very simple. I know for sure that moving between parallel universes is possible, but I don't know the method yet, and finding it will take time and resources. I have both, but I would like to have... um... a base where I can feel comfortable and not be afraid that the most delicate and complex experiment will be destroyed because some idiot with a hammer and a gang of other idiots will break into my place with an offer to "drop my boring books and go on a daring hunt", or "a glorious feast", or "a good fight"... - I confess, it's a sore point. Even if it's not mine... but I remember. - And since fate brought us together, why not set one up here? Judging by what I saw down there, you are no stranger to progress, which means you wouldn't mind getting your hands on some Asgardian technology. It is not difficult for me to share my knowledge, just as I think it will not be difficult for you to help me find materials for work. Plus, here, with you, it will be much easier for me to get acquainted with modern human achievements than in the forests of Canada. As I have managed to see, you have seriously advanced since the moment when I was last interested in the affairs of Midgard, and even though Earth technologies are terribly - I emphasize the word with my voice and facial expressions - behind, but due to a completely different path of development from Asgard, interesting solutions can be found in them.
"Well," Charles smiled, "I have no objections, so welcome," he took the dagger that was still lying there from the table and, riding closer, handed it to me, "stay as long as you need."
- Thank you, - I accept the weapon and hide it in subspace. - You too, if anything happens, contact me, - I get up from the chair. - And now I must take my leave - the cookie supplies in the kitchen will not plunder themselves.
"Oh, well then I won't hold you up," the telepath laughed, "although I wouldn't mind talking some more and learning something about Asgard."
"I think we'll still have enough time," I nod. "Good night, professor."
- Good night, Loki. And one small request.
- Hm? - I stop near the door.
- Don't play with Storm's feelings. She's had a hard life, and she'll take cruel jokes hard.
"It never even crossed my mind," I look honestly at the telepath...
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