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Svartalfheim.
The wind howled across the barren rocks. The Dark Elf assassin raised his blade, aiming for Jane's exposed back.
At the critical moment, Loki moved. He didn't use magic. He didn't use a trick. He simply threw his body between the blade and the mortal.
SHUNK.
The jagged metal pierced Loki's chest with a sickening crunch.
"You..." Jane gasped, her eyes widening in horror as the God of Mischief slumped against her.
Loki slid to the ground, his face pale, blood blossoming across his green tunic like a dark flower. He looked up at Jane, his eyes filled with a tragic, redeemed light.
"Now..." Loki wheezed, blood bubbling past his lips. "I don't owe Thor anything... I didn't have a choice before... I just wanted... to be a good person..."
His head lolled to the side. His eyes stared unseeingly at the grey sky. He fell silent.
"Loki..." Jane covered her mouth, tears stinging her eyes.
She had hated him. She had slapped him. But he had just given his life for hers. How was she supposed to explain this to Thor?
WHOOSH—
A figure materialized from a whirlwind of black smoke. Hermione stepped out, her wand raised.
"Confringo!"
Blasting curses ripped through the remaining Dark Elves, sending them flying like ragdolls. She cleared the immediate area in seconds.
"Hermione! You're back!" Jane cried, stumbling toward her savior. She pointed a trembling hand at the body on the ground. "Loki... he... he saved me."
Hermione looked down at the corpse. She sighed, a long, dramatic sound of mourning.
"A noble sacrifice," Hermione said solemnly. "He deserves a half-day break to commemorate his bravery. But Jane, we cannot linger. The Convergence has begun. Malekith has escaped to spread the darkness."
She waved her hand, tearing open a portal. Through the shimmering orange ring, the familiar architecture of Greenwich, London was visible.
"Go," Hermione commanded. "I will hunt down Malekith. I will finish this."
"But—"
"Go!"
Jane glanced one last time at Loki's still form, wiped her tears, and stepped through the portal.
SNAP.
The portal closed. The wind howled.
Loki's corpse twitched. Then, with the grace of a salted fish flipping over, he sat up. The wound on his chest vanished in a shimmer of green light.
Hermione crossed her arms, looking down at him with an expression of utter unimpressed judgment.
"What kind of rubbish acting was that?" she asked flatly. "'I want to be a good person'? Really? Only Jane would believe that melodramatic tripe."
Loki stood up, dusting off the fake blood. He conjured a fresh suit of armor, looking indignant.
"My acting was sublime!" Loki protested. "And your script was terrible! 'Surrender and become a collaborator'? Would I be stupid enough to fight a battalion of Dark Elves with a fruit knife? The heroic death was the only logical exit!"
"I watched a lot of Midgardian cinema in my cell," Loki added defensively. "Tragedy sells."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't you have any self-awareness? You're a sorcerer, not a meat shield. I don't even want to critique you right now."
The two stared at each other, their "friendship" teetering on the brink of collapse over artistic differences.
After a long pause, Hermione sighed. "Alright, stop joking. The stage is set. Once I finish off the stragglers, you go back to Asgard."
Her expression turned serious. "Impersonate Odin. Take the throne. The old man's lifespan is nearing its end; his Odinforce is spent suppressing Hela. He won't be able to resist your illusions for long. Send him to Earth to retire."
"However," Hermione warned, pointing a finger at him, "you need to discuss this with Frigga. She knows the prophecy of Ragnarok. She will agree to this charade if it means preserving Asgard's strength."
Loki nodded, the playfulness vanishing. "I understand."
He hesitated, looking at her. "I still have to thank you. For saving her. For getting me out."
Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "Don't mention it. This is only our third project together. There are many more to come. You, the working class, will have to do your best."
Loki's lips twitched. "So, in your eyes, I'm just a worker? An employee?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow, smiling dangerously. "Otherwise what? You want to be the boss? You remember what happened last time you tried to lead, right?"
Loki: "..."
I suddenly regret getting out of prison.
Earth. Greenwich. The Royal Naval College.
Thor paced back and forth near the observatory like a caged tiger. He glanced up at the sky every few seconds, gripping Mjolnir until his knuckles turned white.
"Damn it," he muttered. "Why is there no news..."
He had informed S.H.I.E.L.D. as Hermione instructed. Director Fury was mobilizing. Tony Stark and Captain America were en route but delayed by atmospheric disturbances.
VWOOM.
A familiar orange halo sparked into existence on the plaza.
Thor's heart leaped. Hermione's portal!
Jane Foster stumbled out, looking disheveled and traumatized.
"Jane! Are you alright?!"
Thor dropped his hammer and rushed forward, catching her in his arms.
"I'm fine," Jane gasped, clinging to him. "The Aether... it's gone. Hermione removed it."
"Good! Very good!" Thor breathed a sigh of relief, burying his face in her hair. The nightmare was over.
But then he pulled back. Jane's expression was shattered. She wouldn't look him in the eye.
"But..." Jane's voice choked.
Thor's heart stopped. An icy premonition gripped him.
"But what? Jane, tell me!"
"Loki..." Jane whispered, tears spilling over. "Loki... he's dead."
Thor froze. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.
"What?" he whispered. "No. That's impossible. The Trickster... he always survives."
He looked around wildly. "Hermione was there! She wouldn't let him die!"
Jane shook her head, sobbing. "The Dark Elves... there were too many. Malekith escaped. Hermione went after him. Loki... he jumped in front of a blade meant for me. He saved my life, Thor. He died a hero."
Thor stared at her, his mind blank.
Loki was dead? His little brother? The boy he grew up with? The enemy he had fought, and the friend he had loved? Gone?
"No..."
Thor fell to his knees, a roar of pure, agonizing grief building in his chest. The sky above Greenwich darkened, thunder rumbling in sympathy with the God's pain.
The Bus. S.H.I.E.L.D. Mobile Command.
"Loki is dead?"
Skye ripped her headphones off, staring at Coulson in disbelief. She had been monitoring the comms from Greenwich.
"The God of Mischief? The guy who destroyed New York? The guy who killed you?" Skye asked, pointing at her boss. "He's just... gone?"
Coulson sat in his chair, his face unreadable. He touched his chest, where the scar from the scepter still sat.
"If Thor says it, and Jane Foster confirms it... it must be true," Coulson said quietly.
There was a strange silence in the room. The boogeyman was dead.
"Wait..." Skye's brow furrowed. She replayed the audio log in her head.
Jane said Hermione was there. Jane said Hermione went after Malekith.
Skye stood up, her hacker brain connecting the dots at lightspeed.
"Coulson," she said slowly. "Jane just confirmed Hermione Granger was on an alien planet fighting Dark Elves."
Coulson nodded. "It appears so."
"But... Hermione disappeared from this plane last night," Skye paced the room. "How did she get to London? How did she get to space? We didn't track a flight. We didn't see a vehicle."
"And now," Skye continued, her voice rising, "we find out she's powerful enough to extract an Infinity Stone and hunt down an alien warlord solo?"
She looked at Coulson, her eyes wide.
"She's not a scientist, AC. She's not just a consultant."
Skye pointed at the screen displaying Hermione's file photo.
"She's a super. And she's arguably the strongest one we've ever met."