When they found Thor, he was frowning, clearly troubled by the events unfolding in Asgard.
Arthur wasn't any better.
Odin had played his hand, and while Arthur had technically benefited from it, he couldn't bring himself to feel grateful. There had to be a deeper reason behind Odin's actions— one Arthur hadn't figured out yet.
Never underestimate the All-Father. His mind was a labyrinth, filled with schemes that ran deeper than anyone could guess.
That much was clear from the way he had maneuvered Arthur into meeting Hela.
Arthur's thoughts halted there. This was too complex to dwell on now— there were more immediate matters to handle.
He looked at Thor, seated across from him. "The original plan stays the same."
Thor met his gaze, his expression sharp. "I agree. I've already thought about it— rescuing Jane isn't the hard part. The problem is getting to the Dark World. Did you know? Father just ordered the Bifrost sealed. No one gets in or out of Asgard."
Arthur smirked. "That's not a problem. Have you forgotten that someone once left Asgard without using the Bifrost?"
"Loki."
Back then, all of Asgard had been locked down, the Bifrost under tight control— yet Loki had slipped away effortlessly, evading even an entire manhunt.
Arthur nodded. "And he's already part of our plan."
Thor exhaled through his nose. "I'll talk to him when the time comes."
"When the time comes?" Arthur glanced outside, gauging the situation. "No. We do it now. The closer we get to the deadline, the worse it'll be for us."
"But what about a strategy?" Thor hesitated. "We need a solid plan."
"The plan is simple," Arthur said. "We find Loki. Then, I knock all of you out and store you away. After that, I teleport straight to Jane, get her out, and we escape in the ship. Once we're in, that's where Loki comes in. If we move fast enough, by the time they realize what's happening, we'll already be in the Dark World."
"...Knock us out?" Thor considered it for a moment before chuckling. "My friend, I'd like to see you try."
Just as he finished speaking, a large gray figure appeared beside Arthur.
Thor's expression shifted as he eyed the Abomination, the towering mass of muscle and power. He let out a slow breath and said, "If we can keep this quiet, it might actually work."
"We don't have time to waste," Arthur said, standing up. "Your father's approach to the Dark Elf problem is simple— sacrifice Jane. Lock down Asgard, keep the Dark Elves out, and make sure they can't get the Aether. Once the Nine Realms' convergence window closes, their plan collapses, and the threat disappears."
"But the Dark Elves will attack," Thor countered. "And the more time we give them, the more prepared they'll be. You're right. We move now."
Arthur dismissed the Abomination, and the two of them made their way to the prison.
Loki was just as composed as ever when they found him.
There was something striking about his presence— elegance wrapped in effortless charm, with just enough mischief to make him dangerously charismatic.
"The two of you, together?" Loki clasped his hands behind his back, stepping toward the cell door. "That can only mean you need something from me."
His voice was smooth, confident. But Arthur and Thor weren't fooled for a second.
It was just another illusion.
Arthur gestured toward the Eye of Horus beside him and said, "You haven't gone so dull that you can't sense it, have you?"
Loki's pupils contracted briefly before he bared his teeth in frustration. The refined, noble figure standing before them flickered and dissolved.
The real Loki sat slumped against the wall, his usually immaculate appearance in ruins. His hair was disheveled, his complexion pale.
His eyes, hollow and distant, were filled with something Arthur had never expected— grief.
Arthur had seen this scene play out in the movies before, but witnessing it in person was an entirely different experience.
The Loki he remembered— arrogant, sharp-tongued, always one step ahead— was barely recognizable.
There was a raw transparency in his gaze now, something he never would have allowed in the past. Loki's eyes had always been filled with mischief, cunning, or mockery— but never this.
Then his gaze shifted to Arthur, his expression twisting with bitter hatred. "Why?"
"Why?"
Arthur's eyes swept over the cell. The last time he had come here, the place had been almost comfortable— a bed, a coffee table, chairs. Now it looked like a ruin, a forgotten space no one cared for anymore.
Loki had given up.
Arthur let out a short, sharp laugh. "Because of you."
The words hit like a dagger. Loki's eyes flickered, pain flashing behind them.
Arthur had warned him before— told him to stay quiet when it mattered most. And yet, Loki had spoken, said that one fateful line, setting everything into motion.
He had no one to blame but himself.
Loki clenched his fists. "Don't think you've already won."
"There are no winners," Thor said, his voice steady. "I need your help. If you still want revenge for our mother, then stand up."
"Revenge?"
Loki blinked, then let out a cold laugh. "I just want to get out of here."
"Then help us," Arthur said. "We need to get to the Dark World. I think you know the way."
—
Arthur's figure flickered, and in an instant, he reappeared in a quiet room. Jane sat in a chair, arms resting on the table, gazing blankly out the window.
Arthur's sudden appearance startled her.
"What are you doing here?" Jane asked, eyes widening slightly.
Arthur didn't answer. He stepped toward her, placed a hand gently on her neck, and pressed down.
Jane barely had time to react before she slumped forward, unconscious.
Arthur frowned, flexing his fingers.
The Aether had fought back.
It had been brief, a mere instinctive reaction, but if it had been any stronger, subduing her wouldn't have been so easy.
Without hesitation, he secured her in the Disassembler space, then flickered once more— vanishing from the room.
Following Loki's directions, Arthur arrived at the edge of Asgard, where the golden city met the endless cosmic ocean.
Standing by the shore, he was just about to summon his spaceship when he sensed someone approaching.
The figure walked at a measured pace, stopping a few feet away.
Then, with a sigh, they spoke.
"I don't think this is a good idea."
(End of Chapter)
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