It was too late. No matter how many times I said it, no one took notice. They didn't take notice to the sorrow that was reflected in my eyes. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I was too weak to stop it. Even if I did stop it, it would have happened one way or another. I would have simply been killed and things would have been much worst.
I never wanted to go back to Midgard. I never did want to attack it. But have I not attacked Midgard then I would have been killed. I now know that death would have been a much less severe of a punishment than what I am facing. But that would have been selfish of me and one of the realms would have been completely destroyed. The Allfather would not have approved of that. I have learned my lesson.
After trying to prove myself worthy to my father, I knew that destroying a realm was futile. It only brought hatred and grief among those you wanted to so willingly prove your loyalty and love to. That's why I let go. I was willing to die, but death wasn't so kind.
Instead he found me – the one that threatened to destroy Midgard. Instead I proposed that I become king of that realm, so it wouldn't be destroyed. I didn't want that pain to be brought forth to anyone anymore. I already had a glorious burden upon my shoulders.
This baggage of which I brought to Midgard was immense, but it would have to keep this realm safe. So I set out to conquer it. If I should fail – which I did – then he would find me and kill me. By keeping me locked up is brought a great danger to everyone. He will find me, and by attempting to do so he will destroy every world until he does so.
Death is all he cares about. I care about ruling – which requires those to be alive in order to rule. The infinity gauntlet is the only way. It's the only way to stop him and bring order to the universe that desires a ruler. It may not be I, but someone else. Despite how much I crave the lustrous desire of power, I now realize that I am not suit to be king. I am but a mere god among the mortals.