The battle against the War Lord had almost completely drained the Avengers of their strength.
Bucky's metal arm was broken. Tony's Mark IV was dead in the water. He still had the Mark V, but with its capabilities, it could barely handle the Chitauri foot soldiers. Peter was utterly spent. T'Challa had soaked up far too many hits—for much of the fight, he had served as both shield and bait, taking the War Lord's attacks head-on again and again, including the intense energy blasts from that axe. The kinetic absorption of his suit had reached its limit; now the Black Panther suit was covered in purple veins, glowing as if lit from within. Vibranium's absorption was formidable, but what he wore was still just a thin layer.
But no matter what, the War Lord was dead.
"We won!"
Peter let go of all his strength. In that moment, he just wanted to collapse and sleep.
But Tony and Steve shook their heads. They both looked several blocks away, where blue energy shrouded a white whirlwind.
"Not yet," they said, exhausted.
Only, there weren't many left with the strength to keep fighting.
Steve frowned, turning to the Hulk who had just recently beaten them black and blue, and spoke. "Hulk, right now you're the only one who can help us."
Hearing that, Hulk bristled, but his not-too-bright brain suddenly registered that Cap had said "Hulk," not "Banner." The big guy's brow smoothed out, and he rumbled with force:
"Hulk will smash everyone flat!"
After Hulk left, the others didn't idle. Those who still had some fight in them joined the effort to clear out the Chitauri soldiers. The remaining Chitauri forces were no longer a real threat. What truly decided the outcome of this battle, in the end, was what happened on Loki's side.
And right now, Loki's situation was dire.
He had screwed up.
From the moment he picked up the Casket of Ancient Winters and the Tesseract, he had screwed up. Facing the three generals of the Black Order, Loki knew Supergiant, who held the Mind Stone, would be the hardest to deal with. He had no confidence in killing her. Black Dwarf was the weakest and posed no real threat, so he chose Ebony Maw. But his own power couldn't unleash the Casket's full potential, and the sneak attack failed to kill Ebony Maw. Worse, during the escape, he lost the Tesseract.
Now, two Infinity Stones were in the enemy's hands. He had a treasure like the Casket of Ancient Winters but still couldn't stand against them. It had become a game of cat and mouse, and he was the mouse. The blizzard unleashed by the Casket couldn't stop Supergiant and Ebony Maw; it was only delaying his death.
The one small mercy was that after obtaining the Tesseract, Supergiant stopped making moves. The woman cloaked in white was taciturn and deeply mysterious. She was loyal to Thanos, that much was true, but she seemed to be dragging her feet. Or perhaps she understood that from start to finish, all Thanos wanted were the Stones. As for Loki's life, Thanos couldn't care less. If that was the case, she had no need to kill Loki either. Instead, it was Ebony Maw, furious at being ambushed, who relentlessly pursued him. That was good news for Loki, but not entirely, because the Tesseract was in Ebony Maw's hands, and if Ebony Maw truly started losing, Supergiant wouldn't just stand by and watch.
This all left Loki feeling utterly cornered. He was chased like a rat, scurrying for cover. What tormented him even more was the self-reproach for his own weakness.
"Sorry… I let you down."
He had betrayed Banner's trust and failed to protect the Stone. Or maybe Banner's trust in him had been a mistake from the start. He, Loki, was just this useless—always messing everything up.
Now Loki was hiding inside a collapsed building, his back pressed against the icy wall. A street away, Ebony Maw and Black Dwarf were searching for him. He slid down the wall weakly, the back of his head thumping against it, and thought, who could still save this world?
Loki felt so pathetic. Weak, powerless, unable to do a single thing. From the moment he was born, he was a pitiful castoff. Even his own biological father, Laufey, king of the Frost Giants, had looked down on his congenital frailty and abandoned him. After Odin took him in, weakling Loki got no respect in Asgard. The people of Asgard bowed their heads only because of his title, but no one truly considered him noble. Because standing beside this dim, unremarkable prince was Thor, radiating the splendor of lightning. Back then, Thor was far too dazzling. Mighty, towering! So much so that no one ever noticed him. The insignificant Loki was nothing more than a forgettable trinket hanging from Thor's side.
But he couldn't accept it. He believed Odin was biased. He believed he could do better than Thor, because Thor had nothing but muscles and absolutely no brain. He thought Thor was hopelessly stupid. But only now did he realize that the truly stupid one was himself. The weak, incompetent, yet arrogantly self-regarding Loki. Thinking himself a god, when in truth, he was nothing but a ridiculous clown. His coup failed. He was exiled to Sakaar and made a slave. If not for Banner, he would already be dead. Then he leaked intelligence about the Grandmaster's operations, putting Ruma and Sakaar in danger—all his fault. And if Earth was destroyed, that would be his doing too. Yet he could do nothing.
No—at the very least, he could still run.
Loki considered it. With his sorcery and without the Stone to track him, escaping wouldn't be difficult. Supergiant's telepathy might sense him, but clearly she wouldn't go to great lengths over a sad, laughable minor character like him.
Yeah, maybe he should just run. He thought. There's no need to throw his life away for a mere Midgard, for these mortals.
But for some reason, the thought kept circling inside his head, yet Loki still couldn't flee. It was as if his feet had rooted themselves into this planet's soil. Loki couldn't help but find his own thought laughable. He didn't have that deep an attachment to this world. If anything, it was that he didn't want to disappoint Banner even more completely. Because in over a thousand years of failed existence, Banner was the only person who ever believed he could amount to something. Other than Banner, who else ever thought he was worthy of being king?
Odin? He had considered it, but what he'd considered was making Loki a leader of those giants—that wasn't a real king. Thor? Thor only saw him as a weak little brother who needed protecting. And Frigga? Loki shook his head. He didn't deny his mother's love, but that was only because she loved her children, not because she believed he could become a better king than anyone else.
"There won't be another," Loki muttered, rising and exhaling a breath of cold air.
To be honest, he didn't even believe he could achieve anything himself. Just like his godly title—God of Lies and Mischief. In the end, they were nothing but cheap, small-minded tricks. In the glorious stories of others, he played some insignificant, even farcical bit role, offering the audience a bit of comic relief. What else could he possibly do?
Loki mused. Right now, he almost wished that were the case. At least then the story might still head toward a happy ending. After his clown act was over, a true hero would rise and turn the tide. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
Loki let out a soft laugh, then stepped forward, walking out into the open.
Through the curtain of the blizzard, Ebony Maw sensed his emergence. The man, like some evil sorcerer, stood with one hand behind his back, the Tesseract floating above the other, staring at Loki the way a god might gaze down at an ant.
"Done hiding?" Ebony Maw sneered. "Or are you planning to try that pitiful trick on me again? It's useless. The Tesseract's energy has already enveloped this city. You can't escape, Loki."
"I'm not planning to escape," Loki said, meeting his eyes. This time, he was resolved to die.
It didn't matter whether some hero would appear in reality to save everything, or what direction Earth's fate would take. In this moment, Loki's thoughts were much simpler. He couldn't let Banner down again. Loki wanted to prove that Banner hadn't misjudged him. Perhaps Banner had overestimated his strength, but at least he hadn't misjudged his character. He wanted Odin and all of Asgard to see—he might not be a worthy king, and he might not even be Asgardian, but he still carried Asgard's honor. So this time, he would not run. Even if it meant death.
"Or perhaps you intend to pledge yourself to the great Thanos?" Ebony Maw inquired. He wanted to kill Loki immediately, but Loki's status was, after all, extraordinary. If even a prince of the Aesir swore allegiance to Thanos, the Mad Titan's prestige across the universe would rise even higher.
"I already told you, there is only one king worthy of my allegiance!" Loki raised the Casket of Ancient Winters high, his choice clear.
"A pity. I thought you might be a clever man," Ebony Maw said mournfully. Then, the Tesseract in his hand blazed with light.
At those words, Loki smiled faintly. "Then you're mistaken. I am hopelessly stupid."
The next moment, the blizzard pouring from the Casket again coalesced into countless enormous beasts, lunging at Ebony Maw. But by now familiar with Loki's same few tricks, Ebony Maw could counter without even drawing on the Stone's power. With a casual wave, he swept the ice beasts aside like garbage with his powerful telekinesis. Then, he clenched his hand in the air. Instantly, it was as if a giant fist seized Loki by the throat, hoisting him high.
Loki immediately felt himself suffocating, his face flushing deep red, helpless to break free. The greatest sorcerer of the Nine Realms? What a joke.
"Honestly, your weakness is almost unbelievable," Ebony Maw said leisurely. "Killing you is as simple as crushing an ant." He tilted his head arrogantly, his flat nose aimed at Loki, full of utter contempt.
"Then… why don't you do it?" Loki forced out, his vision already blurring.
Ebony Maw gave no reply. He merely moved his arm slightly. At once, the endless ice transformed into a sky full of blades, so dense they blotted out the heavens. With a single thought, he could end Loki completely.
"I am giving you one last chance, Loki, son of Odin. Bow to the great Thanos!"
"..."
At that same moment.
Inside the blizzard, a tall man in thin clothing trudged forward with great difficulty. The biting cold had turned his skin blue, his lips purple. His eyelashes were crusted thick with ice. Every breath was like drawing sharpened blades into his lungs. He could barely move, yet he didn't stop for a single moment.
That man was Thor.
Originally, Thor had been in the shelter with Jane Foster, hoping that this time Earth's heroes could save the world. But it didn't seem to be turning out that way. Then the temperature in New York began to plummet. The sudden cold reached the shelter too. Many elderly and children started falling ill. Jane Foster, though just an ordinary person, was a nurse and immediately threw herself into caring for them. That stirred something inside Thor. Even though he had lost his divine power, maybe he could still do something. More than that, he had already sensed that this blizzard was Loki's doing. He just didn't know what role Loki was playing in this Chitauri attack, nor was he certain whether he'd really seen him in his half-conscious daze earlier.
Thor needed an answer. If Loki had orchestrated all of this, he had to stop him. If Loki had turned over a new leaf, then he should stand shoulder to shoulder with his brother and face whatever enemy came—just as they had in every battle over the past thousand years.
So he resolutely walked out of the shelter and made his way toward the heart of the blizzard. And then he saw it: Loki held up like a dead dog in Ebony Maw's grip. His heart shattered.
"Loki!"
That roar seemed to carry the very power of thunder, shattering the storm and reaching Ebony Maw's and Loki's ears. Loki, nearly unconscious, had blurred vision. He couldn't see Thor's form through the snow, but he knew with absolute certainty that it was Thor who had come.
"Thor… my brother."
In that moment, Loki let out a weak, almost triumphant smile. To him, Thor was an unattainable longing. Loki understood very well—though Thor had now lost his power, this couldn't be permanent. Odin would never leave his child stranded on Midgard forever. Sooner or later, this brother of his would understand what it means to be a king, what a true god is, and then he would raise Mjolnir high, return to the embrace of the gods, and ascend the throne. So why not let today be that day?
Loki thought. He knew Thor cared about him. So why not let his own death become the lightning that ignites the darkness?
With that thought, Loki forced the last bit of air from his throat and cried out Thor's name: "Brother!" Then, as if he had used up every drop of strength, he mouthed weakly: "Avenge me…"
Ebony Maw cast a cold glance at Thor. Then his arm came down. Countless ice blades shot toward Loki like a torrential downpour. Thor's eyes widened in horror. Loki closed his eyes in peace. All he needed to do was wait for death, and then his soul would return to the hall of heroes. Or so he thought.
But death never came.
Puzzled, Loki opened his eyes in disbelief. The sight that greeted him instantly robbed him of all thought. There stood Thor, arms spread wide, his body riddled like a pincushion, having taken every single attack for him. Loki's mind went blank. Thor, covered in blood, collapsed. The still-warm blood brushed against Loki's cheek; its heat felt as if it would scald him.
"Thor…"
"Thor?!"
"Brother!"
He clutched Thor's body with desperate, frantic hands. In that moment, Loki was as panicked and helpless as a child.
"Run… Loki, run…" Thor lay in Loki's arms, forcing out those final words through a ruined throat.
In that instant, Loki felt the sky itself collapse.
Rumble—
Far in the distance, thunder roared.
Ebony Maw, about to act, looked up in surprise. It wasn't just him—Supergiant instantly appeared beside him, eyeing Loki warily.
"What did you do?" Supergiant demanded.
Ebony Maw didn't answer. He merely shook his head, his gaze locked onto Loki.
At that moment, Loki's body seemed wreathed in endless lightning. Immense energy erupted from within him. Then, before Ebony Maw's and Supergiant's astonished eyes, a colossal bolt of lightning tore through the heavens as if splitting the sky, and with it came a silver short-handled hammer. Loki, still holding the unconscious Thor, reached out and raised that hammer high. Silver armor clad him like fish scales, a crimson cape billowed like living flame. Loki wordlessly pulled down the silver faceplate. In this moment, standing before Ebony Maw and Supergiant—
Was Loki, the God of Thunder.
/-\
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