files 1
Thor’s breathing was shallow, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as if to anchor himself to reality. Alone in his dimly lit room, the glow of his computer screen cast an eerie light over his face. The USB drive, now decrypted, had unlocked its secrets—and those secrets were worse than anything Thor could have prepared himself for.
The folder labeled “Sessions” was the first to catch his attention. When he clicked it, a list of names appeared, each corresponding to a student. Some names were familiar: classmates, younger students, even a few of Loki’s friends. But one name stood out above the rest.
“Loki Laufeyson.”
Thor’s heart clenched as he selected his brother’s folder. Inside, the files were meticulously organized by date and time, stretching back over a year. Dozens—no, hundreds—of recordings filled the screen. He hesitated before clicking on one of the most recent videos, dated just a few days prior.
The footage began with a sharp, professional frame: the Grandmaster's studio, brightly lit, everything placed with unnerving precision. Loki sat on a black leather stool in the center of the room, his posture tense, legs crossed awkwardly. The clothes he wore were unfamiliar—an uncomfortably tight white shirt and fitted pants that seemed chosen for their deliberate impropriety.
Then, from the edge of the frame, En Dwi Gast appeared. His trademark sly smile was firmly in place, his presence filling the room like a slow-moving storm.
“Loki,” he began, his voice dripping with that infuriating blend of warmth and control, “today, I expect something extraordinary from you. Show me something… unforgettable.”
On-screen, Loki’s expression was a mixture of defiance and exhaustion, the fight in his eyes dulled but not extinguished. His voice, barely audible, carried a bitter edge.
“What more do you want? You’ve taken everything.”
Gast laughed softly, stepping closer until he loomed over Loki. His hand rose, fingers brushing lightly against Loki’s cheek, a touch that made Thor’s stomach churn. It was intimate, calculated, devoid of any genuine affection. Thor wanted to tear his eyes away, but he couldn’t.
As the video progressed, the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive. En Dwi Gast moved like a director sculpting a scene, adjusting Loki’s posture, tilting his head to catch the light just so. His hands lingered too long—on Loki’s shoulders, his waist—under the guise of precision. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t harmless. It was a performance, and Loki was the unwilling star.
Thor’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. Every second of the video screamed of manipulation, power, and control. Loki didn’t fight back—he didn’t even flinch anymore. He just endured, his defiance reduced to the barest flickers of rebellion in his eyes.
Thor slammed his laptop shut, unable to watch another moment. His chest heaved, anger and guilt colliding in a storm of emotions. How had he let this happen? How had he missed the signs?
He stood abruptly, pacing the room. Loki wasn’t just in trouble—he was trapped, and Thor had no idea how deep the damage ran. But one thing was clear: the Gran Maestro had to be stopped. And this time, Thor wouldn’t hesitate. The "Special" Folder
Thor abruptly closed the video and returned to the main folders. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stop, to walk away from whatever was unfolding on the screen. But his instincts kept pulling him deeper, demanding answers to questions he wasn’t sure he wanted resolved.
The "Special" folder was divided into vaguely labeled subcategories: "Close,”Unique,”“Extras.”He clicked on "close” and immediately felt his stomach churn. File names like “Loki_Confession1,”“Loki_PrivateSession3,” and “Loki_Unprepared” leapt out at him.
Thor’s fingers hesitated over the mouse before he clicked on “Loki_Confession1.”
The video opened to show Loki sitting on the floor of the studio. His face looked exhausted, as though he had been there for hours. A half-empty glass of wine rested next to him, the deep red liquid catching the dim light.
"I want to talk about your family," came the voice of the Grandmaster, off-screen. His tone was soft, almost paternal, but the manipulation laced within his words was unmistakable.
“There isn’t much to say,” Loki replied flatly, though his tone betrayed a fragility that didn’t match his words.
The Grandmaster pressed on, his voice warm but insistently invasive. “Why don’t you tell me about your father? You’ve always struck me as someone carrying an unbearable weight.”
Loki’s gaze drifted, unfocused, as though he were detaching from the moment. Slowly, he began to speak, his words dripping with hesitation, as though every syllable was being pulled from him.
"It... It wasn’t easy," he admitted. “He always had expectations... big ones. But not for me. For Thor. I was always... there, but I was never enough.”
Thor felt a heavy knot twist in his chest. He had never heard Loki talk like this.
As Loki spoke, the Grandmaster’s presence grew more intrusive. He stepped into the frame, sitting beside Loki on the floor. His hand casually found its way to Loki’s knee. Thor watched as his brother tensed visibly, his shoulders going rigid. Yet, Loki didn’t pull away. The camera lingered, capturing every flicker of discomfort: the nervous twitch of Loki’s hands, the slight tremble in his voice, the predator-like way the Grandmaster leaned closer with every sentence.
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"Loki_Unprepared"
Thor dragged his eyes back to the screen. His hand hovered over the keyboard, trembling with reluctance and dread. But he knew, deep down, that he had to see it through.
He double-clicked the file titled "Loki_Unprepared.”*The name alone sent a shiver up his spine.
The video began with a wide shot of the studio, dimly lit. Shadows from the low lighting sprawled across the walls, giving the space an eerie, oppressive atmosphere. In the center of the frame stood Loki, his arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was trying to shield himself. He wore an oversized shirt that hung off his frame and baggy pants that only made him seem smaller, more vulnerable. His posture was stiff, defensive.
The Grandmaster entered the frame, moving with deliberate ease, a glass of wine in one hand and a disarming smile plastered on his face. He didn’t say anything at first, just approached Loki slowly, his movements calm but charged with an undercurrent of intent.
Loki shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze darting toward the camera for a fleeting moment before flickering back to the Grandmaster. There was unease in his eyes, a quiet wariness that made Thor’s stomach twist in knots.
When the Grandmaster finally spoke, his tone was sweet, almost condescending. “You seem tense, my boy. Are you nervous? There’s no need to be nervous with me.”
Loki’s response was barely audible, his voice cracking slightly. “I... I didn’t know this was going to happen today.”
The Grandmaster chuckled, stepping closer, his hand grazing Loki’s arm as if to reassure him. “Sometimes the best moments in life are unplanned. Don’t you agree?”
Thor’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the desk. Every word, every gesture, was another layer of manipulation, another assault on his brother’s dignity.
And still, Loki remained frozen, caught in the Grandmaster’s web, his usual sharp wit and defiance replaced by a silence that Thor barely recognized. "You're more tense than usual today," the Grandmaster remarked, his tone almost casual, though Thor could hear the faint note of satisfaction hidden beneath it.
Loki didn’t reply, but his eyes followed the Grandmaster’s every move. Thor noticed the subtle step his brother took backward, barely perceptible, as the man extended a hand toward him.
“There’s no need to worry,” the Grandmaster continued. “This will be simple. I just want to see you... relaxed.”
Loki let out a soft sigh, as though caught between protest and compliance. Finally, he let his arms drop, his shoulders sagging in quiet resignation.
“I’m not ready for this,” he said softly, his voice almost inaudible.
“Oh, Loki,” the Grandmaster replied, stepping closer. “You always say that, but look at where you are. Here. With me. That says it all, doesn’t it?”
The Grandmaster placed his wine glass on a nearby table and began to circle Loki, his gaze scrutinizing him like an artist examining a masterpiece in progress. His hand brushed over Loki’s shoulder, trailing slowly down his arm until it reached his wrist. Loki didn’t flinch, but Thor caught the faint tremor in his brother’s fingers.
“Lift your head,” the Grandmaster ordered, his voice gentle yet leaving no room for defiance.
Loki obeyed, his green eyes catching the light. They shimmered with an unspoken intensity, but he avoided looking directly at the man before him. The Grandmaster smiled, pleased.
“Perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’re one of a kind, Loki. Did you know that? No one has what you have.”
Thor felt rage boiling inside him as he watched. It was clear the Grandmaster wasn’t simply referring to Loki’s appearance. There was a darker intent behind his words, a calculated manipulation in every gesture and remark.
The video continued, and Thor could see the Grandmaster edging closer to Loki, invading his personal space bit by bit.
“Take off your shirt,” the Grandmaster finally said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Loki hesitated, his hands moving to the buttons but stopping halfway.
“I don’t want to...” he murmured, his voice breaking.
The Grandmaster raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. “Loki, we’ve been through this before. Do you want to go back to the old methods? Or would you rather cooperate and get this over with quickly?” Thor clenched his fists, recalling all the times he had sensed something wasn’t right with his brother but had never asked the right questions.
Loki finally relented, unfastening the buttons with clumsy movements. When he let the shirt fall, Thor saw how his brother tensed, his arms instinctively moving to cover his torso.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” said the Grandmaster, positioning himself behind Loki. “You’re perfect just as you are. I just want you to trust me.”
The video continued, showing how the man moved his hands, adjusting Loki’s posture, his fingers brushing against his skin with a disturbingly familiar touch. Loki barely moved, but his breathing was heavy, his discomfort evident.
Just when it seemed the Grandmaster was about to push the boundaries even further, the video cut off abruptly. Thor stared at the screen, unable to process what he had just seen.
There were so many questions in his mind: what methods had the Grandmaster used before? What had he done to Loki to make him submit so easily? And most importantly, why had no one done anything to stop him?
Thor knew he couldn’t sit idly by. But he also knew he needed to be cautious.
Thor dropped his head into his hands, his thoughts spinning with a mixture of rage, guilt, and despair. He had seen enough to confirm his fears, but he knew this was only the tip of the iceberg. Taking a deep breath, he resolved to keep exploring the files.
“If this is what he does with Loki... what else is there?” he murmured as he moved the cursor to the next file.
There were folders organized under the names of other students, but what caught his attention most was a folder labeled “Special Projects.” Inside, he found more recordings labeled in a similar fashion: names, dates, and cryptic comments like “First Session,” “Resistant Subject,” and one that simply read “Partial Break.”
Thor clicked on another recording labeled “Loki_FifthSession.”
The video began with a static shot of Loki sitting on the edge of the same table Thor had seen before. The lighting was dimmer than in the previous video, creating an almost theatrical atmosphere. Loki wore a tight black shirt that accentuated his thin frame, his hair falling messily over his face, and his expression was more closed off, almost vacant. The Grandmaster was behind the camera at first, his voice soft but imperious filling the silence.
"Loki, darling, you know this is our last chance to do something special. I want you to forget about the outside world and focus only on me. Can you do that?"
Loki nodded slowly, but Thor could see the shimmer of tears building up in his eyes.
"Good," the Grandmaster continued as he moved into the frame. He knelt in front of Loki, placing a firm hand on his knee. "Take a deep breath. Just listen to my voice."
Loki closed his eyes and exhaled, his body trembling slightly. The Grandmaster took the opportunity to caress his cheek with a disturbing gentleness.
"That's it, you're perfect when you surrender."
As the video progressed, Thor noticed how the Grandmaster manipulated Loki, both physically and emotionally. He asked him questions about his childhood, forcing him to relive painful memories while getting closer and closer.
"Do you remember when your father locked you away? How did you feel back then, Loki? Alone? Small?"
Loki nodded weakly, his voice barely a whisper. "He always said it was for my own good..."
The Grandmaster smiled, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "And isn't it the same now? I'm here to take care of you, to mold you into something no one else can have. Do you understand?"
Thor swallowed hard as he read the label of the next file: "Loki_Lockups." His instincts screamed at him not to open it, but something inside him, a mix of protection and a need to know the truth, compelled him to click.
The video began with an image of Loki, sitting in a corner of the same usual setting, lit by warm light that contrasted with the harshness of his words. He wore a worn-out t-shirt, and his gaze was fixed on the floor, as if he couldn’t face the camera.
"What do you want me to say?" murmured Loki, his voice heavy with exhaustion and resentment.
"I want you to talk about your childhood," came the Grandmaster’s voice from off-camera, measured and patient, as though handling a wounded animal. "Those moments when you felt the smallest... the most vulnerable."
Loki let out a bitter laugh and ran a hand through his hair. "Is that what you want? A show of my miseries? I don’t know why I’m surprised."
"It’s not for me, Loki," the Grandmaster insisted. "It’s for you. To free you."
Loki exhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling with effort. Finally, he began to speak, his tone cold but with cracks of pain.
"My father... Odin, he always had a way of justifying what he did. He said it was 'discipline,' that I was 'troublesome.' But his punishments... they weren’t normal."
He stopped, looking to the side as if trying to find the right words.
"At first, it was the lockups. Days, sometimes weeks, in dark rooms where I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. He said it was so I could reflect, to learn how to behave. But soon..."
Loki ran his tongue over his dry lips, deliberately avoiding looking at the camera.
"The lockups stopped being just about being alone. He started coming to me. He said he wanted to make sure I understood the lesson."
Thor felt a knot form in his stomach as he heard those words, and his hands began to shake over the keyboard.
"At first, it was touches on my shoulders, on my face, as if he were trying to comfort me. But then... he sat too close, his hands lingered too long. He always said the same thing: 'This is for your own good, Loki. No one else will take care of you like I do.'"
In the video, Loki finally lifted his gaze, his eyes glassy and his expression one of contained fury.
"I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Maybe because you also know how to manipulate someone. How to take something broken and make it trust you, only to break it even more."
The camera remained fixed as the Grandmaster entered the frame, leaning toward Loki and placing a hand on his knee.
"Loki, darling, this isn’t the same. I’m not like him. I’m here to help you see what you're truly worth."
"Worth? To you? Or to your damn files?" Loki retorted, his voice cracking as he pushed the Grandmaster’s hand away.
Thor slammed the file shut abruptly, his hands trembling and his heart pounding. His mind was in chaos, unable to process what he had just heard.
"This isn’t real... it can’t be real," he whispered.
Thor took a deep breath before opening the next file, titled "Loki_Confidential." He had a feeling that what he was about to see wouldIt would affect him even more than the previous videos, but he knew he had to continue. The screen filled with the image of Loki, once again sitting in what seemed to be the Grandmaster’s studio. This time, the lighting was warmer, but no less unsettling.
Loki was wearing a simple white shirt, open at the collar, and dark pants. His legs were crossed, and he held a glass of wine in his hand, though it seemed more like an accessory than something he truly planned to drink. In front of him, just out of frame, was the Grandmaster, whose voice sounded clear and authoritative.
"Loki, darling," the Grandmaster began, his tone almost affectionate. "You spoke of your father last time. You said his... methods were, let's say, harsh. Are you referring to something more specific?"
Loki visibly tensed, his fingers tightening around the glass. After a few seconds of silence, he took a long sip before speaking.
"Odin... wasn’t the type of father who was content with words," he began, his voice low but firm. "When he felt I had disobeyed, or worse, challenged his authority, his punishments were... physical."
He stopped, as if the words were caught in his throat.
"Go on," the Grandmaster urged softly.
Loki let out a bitter laugh and averted his gaze, fixing it on a distant point.
"The punishments started with a lockup. Not a normal one, of course. I had to be with him. A small room, closed. No exit."
Thor felt a shiver run down his spine as he saw Loki moisten his lips before continuing.
"And it wasn’t just the lockup. Odin... made sure I remembered my place. He said it was necessary, that it was for my own good. He forced me to stay still while he ran his hands over me, looking for any sign that I had learned the lesson. If I moved or protested, it only got worse."
The camera caught a flash of emotion in Loki's eyes, something between anger and pain.
"He said it was his right, as a father. That I should be grateful to him for 'correcting' me."
The Grandmaster stayed silent for a few moments before responding, his voice carrying a mix of interest and satisfaction.
"And now, Loki? Do you still feel that need for correction? For someone to set limits on you?"
Loki slowly raised his gaze, his cold eyes fixed on the camera.