As I watched my dear brother leave the room, I revealed the illusion that hid my face. I rose from the throne I had so deeply desired for as long as I could remember, and made my way to the darkest part of my long, forgotten home. The dungeons were a vile and vicious place, so vile it was hard to believe I had once resided there. When I passed by, each criminal in every cell stood to greet their king. Except one. I turned to face the vermin in the cell, and recognised his face instantly. He was tall and handsome, yet dark and mysterious.

I was me.

I stared at the troubled creature In front of me; its eyes filled with sadness and longing. I knew how he felt, yet I had the strongest desire to keep him in there, in the big, luxurious glass box. I leaned closer towards the glass and whispered, with a smile, "Hello father. Having fun?" The look on his face told me everything. He hated the cell as much as I had, but he didn't understand why he was there. I could have left then, left him whimpering like a frightened child. But I didn't. Instead, I felt the urge to upset him further.

"Oh father." I sighed, shaking my head. "If only you could see how I'm ruling Asgard. Well, I suppose I could order your release, but where's the fun in that?" That had done it. The look on my father's disguised face was a delight to watch. It was a face of both terror and defeat, and caused him to slowly sink down onto the floor.

"Please, Loki" Odin whispered, in a voice so dry and hoarse, he sounded nothing like the noble leader he once was. "Please, let me go, before Asgard falls to its knees." I peered at his face once more. It was mine, but it looked nothing like me. It looked desperate and weak, sad and alone.

"Thor was right. You are an old fool." I walked away, chuckling to myself, and leaving him to suffer my fate.