Chapter 17: Midgardian Misunderstanding – Therapy, Tiaras, and the Reality Stone.
[ASGARD BIFROST CHAMBER – DAY]
Odin, leaning heavily on Gungnir, looked like he was about to send his two most dangerous children to their deaths—which, in a way, he was.
"Midgard is simple," he warned Hela and Loki. "Keep your divine forms restrained. No large-scale destruction. No raising the dead, Hela."
"My brother had his fun there," Hela countered, her gaze narrowed. "Why should I be restricted? I prefer my therapy sessions to be hands-on."
Loki, dressed in a tasteful, yet utterly pretentious, Midgardian suit that screamed "wealthy artist who judges your wine choices," stepped forward. "Sister, Midgardian therapy is about emotional release, not physical conquest. You must blend in. I'll handle the location of the Aether. You handle the 'difficult emotions.''
He handed Hela a set of Midgardian clothes: a sleek, black leather outfit that, while still highly dramatic, lacked the spikes and horns of her usual armor.
Hela scoffed but surprisingly put them on. "These mortal clothes are restrictive."
"They are 'power casual,' Sister. It shows confidence, not aggression," Loki advised. He then turned to me. "Mother, have you provided us with the necessary Midgardian currency and documentation?"
I handed him a large, unmarked duffel bag.
"It contains enough highly polished gold bars to buy a small nation, and some fake IDs that say you're both 'Cousins from Norway' who are 'undergoing mandated family reconciliation.' The therapy appointment is booked in London. Find Jane Foster, secure the Aether, and try not to cause a geological event."
Odin activated the Bifrost. The chamber filled with its signature chaotic light.
"Go," Odin commanded. "And may the Norns have mercy on Midgard."
[LONDON, EARTH – SECONDS LATER]
Loki and Hela landed (subtly, for once) in a deserted alleyway just outside a high-end wellness clinic in London. The sudden blast of cold, damp Midgardian air made Hela recoil.
"This world is wet and smells of vehicular exhaust," she complained. "Where is the majesty?"
"It's here," Loki said, checking his reflection in a storefront window. "It just wears a bespoke suit. Now, keep the death energy low. We are here for healing."
He directed Hela toward the clinic's entrance. The sign read: 'The Inner Sanctuary: Wellness & Mandated Family Consultations.'
Inside, the clinic was all soothing grey tones, faint whale songs, and suspiciously expensive water. The receptionist, a young man named Gary, looked up nervously at the two stunning, impossibly intense 'Norwegian cousins.'
"Welcome. I have you down for the two-hour 'Intense Relational Healing' session. Are you the Laufeysons?"
"We are," Loki purred, giving Gary a smile that promised both eternal salvation and a slow, agonizing demise. "And we are having... feelings."
Hela sat down on a delicate chaise lounge, the wood groaning slightly under her divine weight. She snapped her fingers, and a spectral dagger materialized and began spinning slowly over Gary's head.
"My feeling is that this mortal is an obstacle to true release," Hela stated, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet room.
"It's a metaphor, Gary," Loki explained smoothly to the terrified receptionist. "She means she's impatient. We require the immediate location of one Dr. Jane Foster. It's part of the 'Pre-Session Trauma Retrieval' exercise."
The Hunt for the Aether
Gary, entirely convinced the "Laufeysons" were incredibly rich, dangerously eccentric Norwegian mobsters, quickly pointed them toward the research complex where Jane Foster was currently working—attempting to stabilize the last known residual dimensional anomalies left from the Dark Elf incident.
Loki and Hela arrived at the makeshift lab, which was a chaotic mess of wiring, coffee cups, and theoretical physics. Jane Foster was arguing heatedly with Darcy Lewis about a dimensional anomaly signature.
"It's still spiking! That's not normal!" Jane insisted, pointing at a monitor.
Loki stepped into the lab, his suit immaculate. "Dr. Foster, I believe we share a mutual interest in highly volatile dimensional anomalies. We are here to... stabilize the situation."
Jane recognized Loki instantly. Her jaw dropped. "You! What do you want? And why are you wearing a tie?"
"I'm engaging in personal growth," Loki said. "And I've brought my sister."
Hela stepped into the light, radiating sheer power. Darcy immediately grabbed a stapler, ready for war.
"She is leaking volatile cosmic energy, mortal," Hela declared, looking at Jane with predatory assessment. "Tell me where the red dust is hidden. Now."
I wasn't there, but I knew Loki had to maintain the cover. He snapped his fingers, and a shimmering, translucent wall of illusion materialized between Jane/Darcy and Hela.
"Sister! We discussed this! We must use our words!" Loki sighed dramatically. "Dr. Foster, my sister suffers from deep-seated abandonment issues that manifest as homicidal rage. We need the location of the volatile red fluid you encountered. It is essential for her spiritual detoxification."
Jane, despite her fear, was a scientist. The mention of the 'volatile red fluid'—the Aether—caught her attention.
"You mean the Aether? The Reality Stone?" Jane asked cautiously. "It's bonded to me, but it's currently dormant. Why would you want it?"
"To keep it from a massive, bald, purple gentleman who wishes to commit universal genocide," Loki explained matter-of-factly. "It's a matter of competitive property acquisition."
Darcy finally spoke up, pointing the stapler. "Okay, wait. You want to stop Thanos? And you brought... the Goddess of Death?"
Hela looked at Darcy with aristocratic disdain. "I require a bigger conquest. Thanos is interfering with my long-term goals."
Jane looked at Loki's suit, Hela's dark leather, and the invisible barrier between them. She saw a tiny flicker of genuine desperation in Loki's eyes.
"Fine," Jane said, nodding. "The Aether is suppressed inside me. If you can get me to a place with strong dimensional energy—like, say, a celestial super-bridge—we can draw it out safely."
Loki smiled—a genuine, relieved, and entirely untrustworthy smile. "Excellent. Then let us return to the only therapist large enough to handle our issues."
He turned to the wall. "Odin! The Bifrost. Now. And perhaps a few more of those gold bars for the receptionist, for his discretion."
With the Aether's host secured, Loki and Hela prepared for the instant, violent trip back to Asgard. This time, their baggage included the Reality Stone and one very confused mortal astrophysicist.
To Be Continued...