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Asgardian Dungeons.
The cell block was silent, save for the hum of energy fields. Hermione walked up to the containment field holding the God of Mischief. Loki lay on his cot, tossing a cup in the air.
"Frigga is fine," Hermione said, getting straight to the point.
Loki froze. The cup fell to the floor, rolling away with a hollow sound. The tension that had been keeping his spine rigid evaporated. He sat up, his mask of indifference slipping for a moment.
"Come out," Hermione continued, holding up a golden token. "You're free."
Loki raised an eyebrow, recovering his composure. "Father... Odin just agreed? So easily? Did he hit his head?"
"What else?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "I gave him an offer he couldn't refuse. And you're the only one who knows the back roads."
She pressed the token against the console. The golden barrier flickered and died.
Loki chuckled softly, a low, smooth sound. He stood up, straightening his collar. Knowing his mother was safe, the weight of the world lifted, and he reverted to his usual, chaotic self.
"I must say, you're more agreeable than I expected," Loki drawled, stepping out of the cell. "Working for you is much more comfortable than being Odin's son. Better benefits, I assume?"
"Hurry up," Hermione snapped, turning on her heel. "Time is money. The sooner I get the Aether, the sooner you get to 'die' heroically and sneak back to the throne."
Loki paused, glancing at the shattered cells where the Kursed had rampaged earlier. How many prisoners escaped? he wondered. When I become King, I'll have to hunt them down one by one. Tch. What a hassle. I should ask for a raise.
The Palace Hall.
Jane Foster was waiting with Sif. When Loki sauntered in, Jane's face hardened.
"Hey," Loki grinned, spreading his arms. "We meet again. You must be my brother's—"
SMACK.
Before Loki could finish his witticism, Jane stepped forward and slapped him. It was a solid, resounding connection.
Loki stumbled back, holding his cheek, completely dumbfounded.
"That was for New York," Jane said coldly.
Loki blinked, looking at Hermione helplessly. I'm getting slapped by mortals now?
His gaze drifted to Hermione, silently asking for support.
Hermione gave him a thumbs up. "Well done! Great form, Jane."
Loki: "..." Blanch! (Damn it!)
Svartalfheim. The Dark World.
It was a desolate, lifeless rock floating in a void of perpetual twilight. A fierce wind howled across the barren plains, stirring up clouds of volcanic dust. The air tasted of sulfur and decay.
The three of them landed in a swirl of black and red smoke. Jane looked around, shivering in her thin jacket.
"This is Svartalfheim?" she asked, disappointed. "It's... desolate."
She had imagined an alien metropolis, shiny and chrome. Not a gravel pit.
"Dark Elves," Hermione explained, scanning the horizon. "They thrive in darkness and entropy. Why build cities when you sleep in suspended animation for five thousand years?"
"It's cozy," Loki remarked dryly. "Better decor than the dungeons, at least."
"I see the mothership," Hermione announced.
Without warning, she dissolved into a torrent of black and red wind—her Death Eater flight mode—engulfing Loki and Jane. They shot across the wasteland at supersonic speeds, banking toward the massive, cross-shaped ship grounded on the plain.
They landed with a thud in front of the vessel. Jane stumbled, clutching her stomach. She clung to Hermione's arm, her face green.
"Next time," Jane gasped, "we walk."
Below the ramp of the mothership, Malekith the Accursed stood waiting. He stared at the intruders with a bewildered expression.
When he first saw the black and red whirlwind, he thought the Aether had gained sentience and returned to him. It wasn't until the smoke cleared and revealed a teenage girl and the Trickster God that he realized something was wrong.
"You..." Malekith hissed, raising his hand.
"Imperio!"
Hermione didn't waste time with speeches. She pointed her wand.
The Unforgivable Curse hit Malekith square in the chest. His eyes glazed over instantly. The hatred vanished, replaced by a blissful, obedient void.
"Retrieve the Aether Particles," Hermione commanded flatly.
Malekith moved like a puppet. He walked over to Jane. He raised his hand, and the ancient Dark Elf magic resonated with the parasite.
Jane's eyes rolled back. She fainted as the red fluid began to seep out of her pores, coalescing in the air above her. It swirled like liquid rubies, forming a floating mass of infinite power.
Loki watched in stunned silence. His mouth was slightly open.
What is going on?
What happened to the epic battle? What happened to the struggle? How did she mind-control a warlord instantly?
Why doesn't she play by the rules?!
Back in New York, she at least put on a show! This is just... speedrunning!
Hermione ignored Loki's internal crisis. She looked at the Aether.
"Gotcha."
She reached out with her hand. An invisible force—pure telekinetic will—surged forward.
CRUNCH.
The fluid Aether was compressed. It screamed silently as it was forced to solidify. The liquid became dust, and the dust fused into a solid, red gemstone. The Reality Stone.
Hermione pulled out her platinum pendant. She slotted the red stone into the final empty setting.
CLICK.
Blue (Space), Yellow (Mind), Green (Time), Red (Reality).
The pendant pulsed with a terrifying, multi-colored radiance. The air around Hermione distorted. Gravity bent. Time slowed.
"Pfft..." Loki choked on his own saliva.
No... wait...
When did she get the Time Stone?!
What exactly happened while I was in prison? Did she loot the universe?
Loki felt betrayed. I was ostracized! What happened to the 'Her-Lo' gang? Why did you go solo? Can't we subjugate realities together?
Also, he realized with dawning horror, she has four Infinity Stones. She is literally the most powerful being in existence right now. Does she want to be the Demon King?
"Done," Hermione said, clapping her hands. The pendant vanished under her shirt.
She turned to the mindless Malekith.
"Next, cleaning up loose ends."
She slammed the butt of her wand into the rocky ground.
Ancient Magic: Soul Severing.
A shockwave ripped through Malekith. His astral form was torn from his physical body. Hermione pulled out a small glass vial and scooped up the confused soul.
"Perfect. Another battery for the collection."
She nodded in satisfaction. The sequence was seamless. Efficient. Brutal.
Loki's scalp tingled. He was witnessing a master at work, and it terrified him.
The surrounding Dark Elf warriors, finally realizing their leader had just been soul-ripped, raised their plasma rifles.
Hermione didn't even look at them.
Legilimency Link.
"Imperio."
A wave of mental domination washed over the battalion. Hundreds of Dark Elves froze mid-stride. Their weapons lowered. Their eyes went blank.
"Alright," Hermione said, turning to Loki. "The stage is yours. You know the script. Fool Jane. Fool Thor. Make it dramatic."
"And Loki?" She smiled sharply. "Don't mess it up."
CRACK.
A portal opened, and Hermione vanished, taking the unconscious Malekith's body and the army with her to be recycled.
Moments Later.
Jane Foster groaned, blinking her eyes open. Her mind was foggy.
"Ugh... what happened..."
She looked around. She was sitting on the cold rock of Svartalfheim. The massive Dark Elf ship loomed over her. But she wasn't alone. She was tied back-to-back with Loki.
The sickness in her chest was gone. The Aether was out.
Relief, she thought. Then panic.
"Why are we tied up?" Jane whispered urgently. "What's going on? Where is Hermione?"
Loki sighed heavily, putting on his best tragic face. "It all went wrong, Jane. Malekith... he was stronger than we thought. He extracted the Aether and used its power to escape. Hermione went after him. She lured the main force away, but we were left behind. Captured by the rearguard."
Jane's heart sank. Hermione is fighting alone?
"If I had known this would happen," Jane whispered, "I would have brought Thor."
"It's alright," Loki reassured her, his voice silky smooth. "I have a way."
He subtly moved his fingers.
A duplicate Loki shimmered into existence ten feet away.
"Hey! You ugly freaks!" the Illusion-Loki shouted at a patrol of (mind-controlled) Dark Elves. "Look over here! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!"
The Elves turned, growling, and chased the illusion.
"Hurry!" Loki whispered, conjuring a dagger and slicing their bonds.
They scrambled to their feet, crouching low behind a rock.
"We need to get to the ship," Loki directed.
Just then, a Dark Elf—one Hermione had left specifically for this moment—circled around the rock behind Jane. He raised his jagged sword, aiming for her back.
Loki saw it. His eyes widened. This wasn't in the script, but he had to sell it.
"NO!"
Loki threw himself in front of Jane.
SHUNK.
The blade pierced Loki's chest.