Same place and time.
Yuriko followed her master, trying hard to keep a straight face. Yes, despite the fact that he had called himself by the name of a Scandinavian god, despite her assurances that she believed him, it was one thing to say it, and quite another to feel the truth of these words, to change the perception. And until that moment, in her soul, she considered Loki to be just an eccentric mutant. Yes, a powerful one, but still a man, no matter what he himself claimed about it. However, this did not stop her from wanting to follow him, just as a samurai follows his master. Although she was not very attached to the traditions of her ancestors, there was something in them. Besides, she could not find another way to repay him for saving and protecting him.
Yes, that was the case before, but now? Would she be able to treat him the same way? After all, he really was God. The one who lived a thousand years ago and would live for thousands of years from now. How could she be of use to a being from this place?
Brown eyes involuntarily slid from the back of the creature walking ahead, hidden by a green cloak, and darted around the panorama that opened up. They had just left a huge spherical building, as if cast from a single piece of bronze, and were now standing on a wide bridge stretching more than a mile into the distance, as if made of glass stones, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow. The colossal engineering structure stretched in a perfectly even strip over the water of a huge bay, only occasionally resting on rare supports rising from the water. And there, in the distance, where the bridge led, a real golden city shone. Tall, like natural skyscrapers, spires of palaces and galleries, burning with gold and bronze in the rays of the morning sun. Incomprehensible rectangular buildings, shimmering with silver and complex geometric patterns, simply hanging in the air. Thirty-meter statues of warriors in armor and with huge weapons in their hands, clearly visible even from such a distance. But even this was a trifle compared to what opened up to the eye, one only had to look back from the bridge - behind the round building.
A waterfall. Enormous, nothing like Niagara, wide and straight, as if someone had cut it off, a cliff into which the sea lying under the bridge plunged. Every second it sent down many hundreds and thousands of cubic meters of water, but it did not become shallower for a moment, although it was completely unclear where the water came from, because on the other side there was land. The abyss encircling the sea simply was, contradicting all the laws of physics, and if only this... Above it, on all sides, stars shone - completely unlike anything else constellations of all colors, entire nebulae and even galaxies, as they are drawn in films, trying to imagine their appearance from the outside. They were so close, so genuinely real, that it took your breath away. The spectacle was magnificent, mesmerizing, but completely unreal. An illusion, of which her master is a master? It's unlikely – it would be pointless, but it was also impossible to believe that all this was real.
Her savior meanwhile waved his hand imperiously, and, mentally cursing herself, Yuriko only now noticed that a golden boat was descending from the sky towards them, decorated with fine carvings and precious stones, as well as two perpendicularly located sheets of metal, stylized as wings on the sides closer to the stern. And it was floating in the air. The phantasmagoric nature of the picture grew. The brunette with combed back hair, however, did not see anything strange in this and, having waited until the vehicle hovered above the rainbow surface of the bridge, gestured for the two soldiers sitting inside in bizarre horned helmets to get out. They also wore medieval armor and weapons, as did Loki and the tall black man with a wide two-handed sword who met them after the transfer. And just like Loki, their movements betrayed enormous combat experience.
"Come on board," her savior called to them, politely, like some kind of doorman, standing at the side of the boat. And although in context it should have looked funny, here and now Loki's posture did not allow the thoughts to even for a moment suspect a joke or childishness, which he was a master of in everyday life.
Yuriko, like the other guests of Asgard, silently followed the suggestion. The floor under their feet did not even sway when they stepped onto the hovering vehicle, and now, a few seconds later, they were already gaining altitude.
"Is that really what I see?" Sarah called out in a trembling voice, looking down with wide eyes. "There, beyond the cliff, is the emptiness of space?"
Yuriko swallowed imperceptibly, turning her gaze to Loki. She saw it too—the higher they climbed, the clearer it became that there was no land below the waterfall. There were stars there, too. And space.
"Asgard is a classic 'Discworld', only without the elephants and whales," the brunette replied, steering the boat, holding onto a real tiller, like on wooden vessels, only here it was metal and somehow allowed the ship to control all movements, including upwards. "It hangs in the cosmic void at the edge of the galaxy, or more precisely, at the top of a globular cluster around the center of the galaxy, if its disk is placed on its side.
"But that's impossible," Dr. Kinney objected, dumbfounded. "From a physical point of view…"
- Why? However, if it will be easier for you, you can perceive Asgard as a kind of huge spaceship, this is not true, but close enough to the truth.
The scientist swallowed and took a new look at the sky with its close and unrealistically colorful stars. Yuriko looked at them too, once again feeling the abyss that separated her from the creature that had saved her. Able to move between stars in a few seconds, immortal, to whom the Gods living at the top of the galaxy obeyed… there was no reason for him to bother with her. Even to pay attention. A person in his place would have simply killed the useless witness, as he had killed Stryker. Or just like Stryker. He would have used her for his own purpose – to make the performance more believable. No troubles in the family could serve as an excuse for his help – the former prisoner of her own body knew human nature too well: problems, mental anguish, disappointment in loved ones – none of this makes people kinder, only tougher. It makes you throw away the not very strong veneer of humanism and brings out all the rot that hides inside under the pressure of society. But it helped…
The girl turned her gaze to the thin face of a man in a green cloak and armor glittering with silver adamantium. Thin lips, a perfectly smooth chin without any traces of shaving, a high forehead, now hidden by a bizarre horned helmet, eyes azure-green in the rays of the sun. At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about him - his face was not fantastically handsome, as if it came from the cover of a glossy magazine; in dim lighting, his eyes always faded, becoming an indefinitely pale shade; his figure, too, was not distinguished by its stateliness and broad shoulders that would make one look at it. He would be an ordinary and unremarkable passerby, just change his clothes to something youthful and sporty. But he was not ordinary. Never.
His body was in perfect physical shape, she could be fully convinced of that, even without trying to sneak a peek, because during their trip he shamelessly tried to sunbathe in the sun several times at minus five. His facial expressions and especially his smile were able to amazingly and fully convey many times more context and emotions in a conversation than the words themselves. His pleasant voice captured attention from the first sounds, not letting go and not allowing itself to be ignored, no matter how quietly and casually he inserted remarks. He often joked, was amazingly sensitive and cooked wonderfully. In less than a week and a half on the road with him, she felt as if she had spent a good month on vacation, everything passed so easily and carefree, imperceptibly and at the same time endlessly obviously washing away old fatigue, fear and tension from the heart. Harmony in his movements, the color of his clothes, behavior, all this instantly attracted attention, not allowing itself to be forgotten. Wiry, not too tall, with the appearance of a boy who had just graduated from college, he was something special as a man, and this feeling of hers in no way concerned his abilities and magical techniques.
She could admit it to herself - Yuriko was desperately happy that life had brought her together with Loki, but she felt even more desperately that she was useless - useless to him. Although he did not show it with a word or a half-glance, it was enough to look around... at her feet... in the sky - anywhere, to understand what a huge gap there was between them. This feeling tore at her soul, and perhaps a real bushi* or yojimbo in her place should have left so as not to burden her master with her worthlessness, but the girl did not have the courage to do so. A selfish, base desire... but she could not force herself to give it up. Not after what she had been through at the behest of Stryker and other people.
Suppressing her emotions with an effort of will, Yuriko looked away from the man's figure and unexpectedly met the eyes of Project X-23. Laura.
The artificially grown girl looked at her with her usual silent interest. She looked at everything and everyone like that, only occasionally varying her facial expression towards greater interest, surprise or caution. William Stryker's former secretary did not like to communicate with her - there was too much in common between them for it not to lead to awkwardness and a feeling of discomfort. They were even taught to fight according to the same pattern, or rather... first this pattern was worked out on Yuriko, and then the final version was used on the child, and this alone made it hard for the woman to be around her. Ordinary people did not try too hard to make the training methods for their mutant slaves pleasant, rather the opposite - the cornerstone was exclusively efficiency, and when the trainee also could not die from accompanying injuries ... The former prisoner of her own body did not want to remember this, and Laura was a living reminder. A reminder that makes her constantly realize that someone who deserved it an order of magnitude more than she did also went through the same thing, largely due to her fault.
Meanwhile, after searching Yuriko's face for a few seconds, the girl turned to Loki and, after thinking for a moment, stood up to come closer to him and sit down opposite him - on the other side of the tiller. The man noticed this, but did not comment on it, only tenaciously watching her movements, hiding a hint of a smile in the corners of his lips, which, according to the Japanese woman's experience, could stop being a hint at any moment, from, it would seem, any action of Laura's. For almost a minute, the Scandinavian god and the girl born to be a weapon played a staring contest, as they did constantly. At such moments, Yuriko felt as if they could talk mentally, so strange was their communication. In fact, she had no doubt that Loki could communicate like that, but the picture still gave off some kind of mysticism every time. And now, as soon as the girl lowered her gaze to the metal control "stick", and then raised it again to the God of Magic, he, as always, understood what the child was thinking about.
"Mental control," the brunette explained, smiling slightly.
"…" Laura turned her gaze back to the tiller, then back to Loki and carefully raised her hand, pausing with her palm above the metal surface, without ceasing to look into the man's eyes.
"Well, try it..." he openly became cheerful, encouragingly stretching his lips into a snake-like smile.
"Isn't that dangerous?" Sarah asked.
"No, in Asgard even children can control flying boats," God shook his head, and the girl had already touched the metal…
***
Odin's chambers greeted me with silence and the honeyed smell of burnt wax. Odin loved real wax candles, or rather their smell, so he sometimes lit them in his room, despite all the technomagical advancement of Asgard. Now they were clearly lit by Frigga, who was sitting devotedly at the head of her husband's bed and gave me a warm smile as soon as I entered. The Allfather's body was covered with a golden hemisphere of healing magic, reminiscent of a classic force field, although, as I knew, it freely passed any objects in and out. Odin looked serene - covered with a fluffy blanket up to his chest, he slept on his back, not at all resembling the formidable and powerful King of Asgard, at whose name entire worlds trembled. An ordinary old man with a soft, round face, a small belly and a thick snow-white beard. In fact, his face was an exact replica of the great Anthony Hopkins, who played him in the film, but I'll be damned if Odin now evoked even the slightest association with Hannibal Lecter, so memorable in my past world thanks to the talent of this man.
Walking silently through the hall of the bedchamber, I went around the wide bed on the other side from where the queen was sitting and slowly sat down on the chair standing there. Strange feelings were seething inside, calling them "mixed" would be a bit weak. The human part of me was clearly trembling from the proximity to one of the most powerful beings of this universe, which was greatly facilitated by Loki's knowledge, allowing me to understand this power in a much greater fullness than any entertaining film could give. Odin was God, a full-fledged ruler of this world. Even just sitting next to him, I felt how connected he was with the surrounding space, how Asgard and several other - real - planets and even entire dimensions, albeit pocket or dwarf, were submissive to his will. He was even connected to Earth! Not as fully and deeply as with this artificial world of the Aesir, but this connection was still there, and it was greater than mine. The old Loki didn't think about it - he was too used to it, and he had seen plenty of examples of his father's magical power, but it got to me. I could feel the worlds too - their soul, their essence. But for me it was a distant and vague sensation - I just knew that this soul existed, I perceived it as a kind of background, something like a smell or air temperature, but to influence it, to make it do something, and even more so - to draw strength from it... All this was inaccessible to me. After all, I didn't just call Storm a Goddess for the sake of a compliment. Her power was based on communication with the world, on empathy with it, the ability to ask and receive - a phenomenal influence even for a real God. But still, she was not a Goddess, she was a mutant whose psionic abilities were configured in such a bizarre way that she received her own analogue of the powers inherent in the strongest of the Aesir. Odin was God and could do the same as she, and on a dozen worlds. That's what my feelings screamed at me, that's what Loki's knowledge whispered. And they told me how bad Odin was. How tired and weak he was. I saw his connection with the universe, I saw its potential, and I saw how incapable the Allfather was of realizing it now. He was like a huge ancient dragon, defeated not by enemies and weapons, but by old age and infirmity, but continuing to inspire sacred awe even in such a decrepit and defenseless state.
But that was only about power and the fear of being discovered. The fear that had driven me to flee Asgard. But it was not the only fear that reigned in my soul.
Loki's memory, recollections... something I had grown close to and, let's be honest with myself, had grown accustomed to considering my own. All of this turned upside down when I saw the state my father was in . Strict, hot-tempered, always favoring Thor, sometimes stupid and stubborn, to the point of gnashing his teeth, but... a father. Always so powerful and fearsome, and now weak and defenseless. Abandoned by an adopted child, betrayed in the best feelings and hopes by a beloved son, disappointed and consumed by regret, helpless to fix anything and forced to abandon his wife, his kingdom, everything he lived his life for, at the most crucial and critical moment. At the moment when he is most needed. I knew I wasn't the Loki he was, that Odin wasn't my father, that I shouldn't feel anything but contempt for him for the disgusting way he raised his children, but I still felt sorry for him. Something viscous and aching rose in my chest, suspiciously like love. I wanted to help, apologize, hug him, and even, damn it, cry...
And I was simply covered by a hopeless veil of despair from the mere thought of how much I would have to drag out if I really took on the task of ruling Asgard. Administrative duties did not frighten me, I was frightened by people. Or rather, the Aesir. Their culture, customs, moral and social principles, traditions of doing business and following orders...
This is where my difference from the previous Loki became most apparent - I couldn't live in this society. I didn't want to live in it. I didn't want to adapt to it. I didn't want to... support it. A society of technically super-developed long-lived psychics stuck in a tribal system - that's too alien to me. But the Tsar should not only follow traditions, he should be, as they say, holier than the Pope, especially if he has some legal rights to the throne. It would seem that, given Loki's reputation, he could do whatever he wanted, but in real life, it's a one-way street. Besides... there are no potatoes here!
"I asked him to be honest with you from the beginning," Frigga broke the prolonged silence, gently squeezing Odin's fingers over the blanket. "There shouldn't be secrets in our family…"
"Everyone has secrets," I echoed, continuing to hypnotize the face of the ruler of Asgard with my gaze, "but some secrets are too painful to perceive if you are late in revealing them."
"He hid the truth from you so that you wouldn't feel like a stranger," the asinya tried to catch my gaze. Overcoming myself, I gave in, raising my eyes to her. "You are our son, Loki," she continued with heartfelt emphasis, feeling a small victory, "and we are your family. You should know that."
"Our knowledge sometimes plays a cruel joke on us," I turned away, trying to calm the feelings raging inside. It was good that there were no servants in the sleeping chamber now, and I could not be afraid that, while wandering my eyes around the room, I would encounter the gaze of a curious onlooker.
"You can talk to him," Frigga said, taking a new tone and delicately suggesting changing the subject. "He can see and hear us even now."
"I'm afraid I'm not in the right state right now and I might say too much, and he's already having a hard time after Thor's prank," I sigh, massaging my eyes with my fingers. I knew that Odin could observe the world even in his sleep, but the reminder still didn't bring me any positive emotions. "How long will this last?"
"I don't know," the woman shook her head, looking at her husband. "This time it's different – we weren't ready."
"So my feelings are correct—it will take him years, perhaps decades, to recover," I said, partly asking, but more like a statement.
"You are a good son," Thor's mother smiled. "Now do you understand why we need you so much?"
- Yes, but I don't want to rule Asgard! - if the original Loki had heard me, he would have died of a heart attack, despite the fact that the Aesir are not susceptible to mortal diseases.
"I don't understand..." Frigga frowned in confusion, "Haven't you been preparing for this your whole life?"
"Yes, but I gave it up," I lean my elbows on my knees, preparing to express what I feel, but in a way that she would understand and that would not stand out from the overall picture of Loki learning his real ancestry. "I let go of that unrealistic, stupid dream and started a new life. I… I looked at the world for the first time without the prism of my position in Asgard, without the desire to surpass Thor in your eyes, and… I realized that I don't need power!" I raise my gaze from the floor to meet the eyes of the queen of Asgard. "I don't want to rule, I don't want to rule and command. I wasted more than a thousand years of my life striving to achieve the impossible, on a dream that is unrealizable, on a goal born of a lie. And when I learned the truth… when I…" I lick my lips, unable to find the exact word, "was freed," I found an analogue, shaking my head at the same time. "Then I realized that my dreams… Are truly mine!" They are not about ruling the kingdom. My true passion is magic. I thirst for knowledge, I thirst for power, but not borrowed, but my own, which no one can take away from me. And I also want my own life. Not built on lies, not someone's gift or mercy. And I got this life in Midgard! There, for the first time in my life, I made my friends. Although it is wrong to say so - they are more like buddies for now - I shrug my shoulders - but still they are MINE, and not Thor's. For them, I am not the slippery shadow of a radiant brother, not the son of the King. For them, I am ME! They judge me not by who and what I am, but by what I do. If I reveal to them that I am an ice giant, it will not change anything. In their eyes, I will not change at all. And if I reveal who I am to Asgard, Heimdall will be the first to try to impale me on his sword, not to mention the other Aesir and Vanir! I don't want that kind of life - I don't want to be an eternal hostage, trembling so that no one will find out his secret. I don't want this wormhole to eat me from the inside, especially at the moment when I've only just begun to truly live.
"…You've grown up, Loki," Frigga said with a sad and kind smile on her lips.
"Sometimes this happens," I muttered under my breath, feeling something like embarrassment from the speech I had just made. In addition, the fact that Odin had heard this speech, even though he was "not with us," did not add to my mood either. And the circumstances listed above were a real hodgepodge of Loki's past memories and my motivation.
- Yes, and this only proves that Asgard will not find a better King than you, - Asinya continued to smile and look at me with genuine pride. - You do not need power, which means you will not start wars to get it, you want to live by your ideals and dreams - which means it will be difficult for you to impose someone else's.
"That's what you're trying to do now…" my dissatisfaction didn't go away.
"No," the woman shook her head, "I'm just trying to show you that you are worthy of the throne of Asgard, and the throne of Asgard is worthy of you. Believe me, Loki, Odin was not eager to succeed his father either. But we are the Aesir. Our strength and power are great, but so is the responsibility placed upon us. Someone must guard the Nine Worlds."
- Then why don't you lead Asgard? - I already knew the answer from the memory of my predecessor, but the man in me couldn't keep silent. - You certainly have more experience and authority than me!
- Loki, you know very well that only the King can rule the Kingdom. My place is next to my husband, but not in my husband's place, - Frigga explained to me like a little child, in a motherly way.
- But I'm not even an ace, I'm a dystrophic ice giant with a skin pigmentation disorder! - I already understood that she had a prepared answer for each of my arguments, but I couldn't just give in. - I have no right to the throne of Asgard!
"You are mistaken," the Asinya's face darkened. "Of course, you were not conceived by Odin, but you still have his blood in you. You are only half an ice giant, my son, the other half is from the Aesir."
- What, excuse me? - To say that this news hit me like a punch in the gut is to say nothing. No, I assumed that I could be a half-breed, but carry Odin's blood in me... - Did I hear right? Do I have Odin's blood in me?
"Yes," the woman nodded, closing her eyes.
- And-and-and?.. - I pretend with my whole pose to be very interested in further explanations. I myself would not have asked directly who my mother was - I understood that for Frigga this would have been a very painful question, and the real Loki would never have asked it, because he loved his adoptive mother with all his heart, but since she herself raised the topic...
"The woman who carried and gave birth to you was Odin's eldest daughter, Hela," the queen admitted with a heavy sigh.
- W-wait a second, - I put my index finger up in a protective gesture, trying to prevent my eyes from falling out of their natural place. - You mean that same Hela, who is the Goddess of Death?.. Who is Thor's older sister and a shamelessly strong lady, obsessed with a thirst for power and currently locked in Helheim by her father?
"You knew about her?" Frigga asked, genuinely surprised.
– Did I know that Odin was once quite a tyrannical conqueror of the galaxy, who spilled rivers of blood so that Asgard would occupy the place it occupies now, and that his daughter, Hela, who is the Goddess of Death, whom he later renounced and imprisoned, tying shackles on his own life, helped him in this? Yes, I knew about it, – a nervous smile crawled onto my face, and I began to twitch slightly. – And you want to say that she is my biological mother? – the answer was written in wide letters on the gloomy face of the Asinya. – And Thor, it turns out, is my uncle?!
Did I say that news hit me in the gut? I was wrong. It didn't affect me at all then, but now I'm hit by a truck! What the hell is Santa Barbara?! This wasn't in the movie scripts! Marvel Cinematic Universe, what the hell are you doing to my life, Surtur? Aaaah!!! Thor is my uncle! God forbid he finds out! He's already an unbearable, egocentric snob!
And Frigga, meanwhile, nodded...
- So, not only am I half a monster that mothers scare their children with, not only am I the son of Laufey, but I am also the son of a completely crazy, bloody maniac-traitor who twisted herself so that she was completely erased from the history of Asgard?
"You are my son. And Odin's son. That is our word," Frigga's gaze now clearly read "and I will skin anyone who tries to say anything about it."
- Oh-ho-ho-ho-hoh... - I lower my face into my outstretched palms. - I wasn't ready for this, give me a minute to collect my thoughts...
There would have been something else to gather, because in my head there was just white noise with bursts of interference, like in old tube televisions...
"Loki," my mother's voice brought me out of my stupor… yes, not mine, but now I was almost ready not to even correct myself in my thoughts.
- What? - I open my eyes and glance sideways at the woman.
In response, she silently suggested looking into the far corner of the bedchamber. Following her gaze, I saw Gungnir, frozen on its heel, looking vertically upward, as it always did when Odin let go of his hand. The spear was not supported by anything, maintaining its vertical position on its own, and… I immediately understood what the queen was getting at.
- Mom... - a heavy sigh escaped from my chest. - Well, I am the God of Deception and Mischief, half of Asgard can't stand me, and the other half despises me! See? - I stretch my hand towards the spear, mentally sending a call in its direction. - I can't even summon Gungnir... - I didn't have time to finish, as the golden shaft jumped into my hand, having overcome the entire space of the bedchamber, and fit into my palm as if it were a glove... - I summoned Gungnir?.. - I stared dumbfoundedly at Odin's spear. - Can he really do that? - meaning flights into the owner's hand, I turn to Frigga.
"This is the weapon of the king of Asgard," the woman smiled warmly at me, literally beaming with pride. "Of course, it is no worse than the weapon of the heir."
- But he never did that... - I feel like an idiot.
- Because your father didn't need it, but you did.
- But... Wait, - I nervously closed my eyes, feeling like I'd eaten a lemon. - Magic doesn't work like that! Artifacts either can do something, or they can't.
- And yet he lay in your hand.
- This doesn't prove anything!
- On the contrary, it means that you can be the King. Besides, even if you don't like this title, shouldn't the God of Deception and Evil Jokes like the idea of fooling the entire kingdom of the Aesir? - the eyes of the queen of the Aesir danced with legions of laughter.
- A-uh-no... - I turn my gaze from my interlocutor to the all-metal spear made of Uru metal, which served as the prototype of the partisans on Earth. The power of the artifact flowed into my fingers, mixing with mine and entering into resonance, multiplying my own magical power several times, the skills and capabilities of one of the most powerful weapons in the galaxy were revealed to my mind, and I also felt how the pseudo-mind of the artifact was tuning in to me, forming a long-term connection, as if it had seriously decided to settle in my hands for a long, long time. - Okay, - my shoulders drooped, illustrating complete defeat - I was surrounded from all sides, - you convinced me ...
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