April 30, 2025 at 05:18 AM
Against the monstrous, descending moon, the vast ship collapsed in on itself, crushing the hopes of a planet. Loki cared nothing for that. The crumpling ship looked like his life. Yet another failure brought on by bravado, foolishness—by choosing pleasure over guile. He got drunk, sang that song of home, of Asgard—that turned out to be more fragile than he had thought. As soon as he stopped trying to destroy it, it burned, and some version of himself had lit the fuse. Now Sylvie turned from him with contempt. Furious as it made him, it was well deserved.