Chapter Seventy-Six: Loki, Driven to Desperation

Loki gazed at Laufey, the unmistakable smirk of a villain curling on his lips.
“I’ll cover you and a few of your men, get you into Odin’s chambers. That way, you’ll be able to kill him as he lies bedridden.”
Laufey shot back, “Why not do it yourself?”
“I doubt Asgard would accept a king who murdered its former ruler.”
Loki knew that Laufey wouldn’t risk everything just to kill the aged Odin. He needed to offer something greater.
He continued, “After Odin is dead, I’ll return the Casket of Ancient Winters to you. Then Jotunheim can reclaim its former glory.”
The mention of the Casket made Laufey’s heart race.
If he waited for Odin to die naturally, without the Casket, he’d have to wage another war to reclaim it, and who knew how many Frost Giants would perish in the attempt.
But if he could simply take it, he would be second only to Odin himself—and Odin would be gone by then…
Laufey knew Loki was slippery, likely to try some trick to keep the Casket for himself.
But if they worked together, it would mean Loki’s secret was in his hands, and he’d be able to threaten him later. He had nothing to fear from Loki’s betrayal.
“I accept.”
Seeing his goal achieved, Loki vanished again, reappearing on the Bifrost.
“What’s the matter, gatekeeper?”
Loki sneered at Heimdall.
Heimdall regarded him with grave suspicion. “While you were in Jotunheim, you were concealed, just like the Frost Giants who invaded here.”
Hearing Heimdall’s doubts, Loki shrugged indifferently. “Perhaps you’ve served too long—your senses are dulling.”
Heimdall replied, “Or perhaps someone has found a way to hide things from my sight.”
Loki bristled at Heimdall’s lack of respect. “Heimdall, you possess great power. Has Odin ever feared you?”
“No.”
Heimdall’s face remained expressionless.
“Why not?”
“Because he is my king. I have sworn to obey him unto death.”
Loki stepped closer, pressing Heimdall. “He was your king. But now you must obey me, mustn’t you?”
Heimdall looked at Loki with resignation, thinking, Do you really believe your schemes have fooled Odin? Still, I’ll play along.
“Yes.”
Satisfied with the answer, Loki turned and left, issuing his command as he walked away.
“Then let no one leave the Bifrost until I have dealt with the mess my brother left behind.”

“Heh.”
Heimdall sighed. Thor was like an overgrown child, but perhaps his brother was no more mature.
The Three Warriors of Asgard sat brooding in their quarters when Sif stormed in, her anger flaring at the sight of the fat one gorging himself.
Sif snapped, “We’ve been banished, Loki sits on the throne, Asgard stands at the brink of war, and you’re stuffing your face?”
The group began to complain, arguing loudly.
The fat one insisted that Heimdall was watching them, so they should keep quiet and eat their sorrows away.
But the others, especially Sif, could not sit still—she was determined to go find Thor.
Just as their quarrel reached a peak, an Asgardian soldier burst in, startling them all—they thought Heimdall had come to arrest them.
But the soldier only announced that Heimdall wished to see them.
The four exchanged nervous glances. At last the fat one groaned, “We’re dead.”
They went before Heimdall, who questioned them: “You intend to defy your king’s order, commit treason, and bring back the criminal Thor?”
Sif stepped forward bravely. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Relief flickered in their eyes at Heimdall’s unexpected response.
“You must help us.”
Heimdall turned away, walking to the far end of the bridge, as if the Bifrost were no longer his concern.
“I must serve my king. I cannot open the Bifrost for you.”
He spoke no more, but the four eyed the Bifrost key and understood his meaning.
“This guy is impossible to read, isn’t he?”
“Let’s go.”
The four soon arrived near Thor’s small town. Meanwhile, SHIELD detected their arrival.
Michael returned to the temporary base and cast a glance at the two corpses.
“Damn.”
They had been killed by Loki’s magic; when discovered, their organs were shattered beyond any hope of saving them.
“Where’s Loki?”
Coulson, tense, replied, “Loki has vanished. And I’m not sure if he’s disguised himself among our people.”
Once bitten, twice shy—Loki’s powers were so strange he could hypnotize everyone without a sound, so Coulson’s nerves were understandable.
Michael scanned the area. “He’s already gone. Track that energy anomaly.”

Loki could not be killed.
Odin did not want Loki to inherit the throne of Asgard, but he would never allow anyone else to kill him, either. After all, even a dog has its master—let Loki run if he must.
As the god of mischief, Michael never expected to keep him imprisoned for life.
Loki came and went like a shadow, likely possessing some means of traversing space that did not create the obvious energy surges of the Bifrost. How he managed it, no one could say.
The new energy signature must be the four Asgardian warriors—or rather, the three warriors and Sif.
These four, honestly, were fools.
They acted always as “Thor’s brothers,” never considering what was best for Asgard itself.
If Thor was an overgrown child, they were the template for bumbling henchmen—good for nothing but trouble.
They started off mocking Loki, then encouraged Thor to go to Jotunheim. Loki was still a prince—who were they to treat him so?
While Loki reveled in his role as regent, the four of them went to irritate him and then secretly fled to Earth.
They forced Loki’s hand, making him send the Destroyer to kill Thor—luckily, fate intervened and Thor earned the right to wield Mjolnir again.
In short, they were Thor’s sycophants. Whatever Thor said, they obeyed. If Thor told them to eat dirt, they’d probably do it.
Coulson left, dispatching agents to the small town to check for anything unusual.
Meanwhile, Loki was well aware of the disturbance on the Bifrost.
That bastard Heimdall had betrayed him after all.
Loki dreaded Thor’s return. Now that he knew he was not truly Asgardian, the fear gnawed at his heart.
He was certain that if Thor returned, he would never ascend the throne—his blood was impure.
And so it was: no matter his schemes, Odin had never intended to pass the throne to Loki.
He soon arrived at Odin’s vault, where countless treasures, spoils of Odin’s conquests, were kept—including the Casket of Ancient Winters, coveted by the Frost Giants.
The greatest guardian awaited him here: Odin’s ultimate weapon—the Destroyer.
Loki commanded the Destroyer, “See to it my brother does not come back. Destroy everything.”
“Oh, and bring that mortal to me alive. I want to flay him, strip him to the bone.”
The Destroyer received Loki’s order and set off for Earth to hunt Thor.
Watching it depart, Loki finally breathed easy.
Never mind whether Thor had regained his strength—even if he had, he might not be a match for the Destroyer.