NOTE: Excuse my writing mistakes, English is not my native language and I'm still learning. Any corrections about grammar or spelling are welcome.

Here it comes the second chapter of this story.

I recommend listening to the music I used to write this ("A Battle Between Worlds" from the soundtrack of Thor) while reading.

CHAPTER 2

THE PRICE OF LIFE

It was painful. He cried until he lost his voice, falling directly through chaos, glimpsing the worlds in his path, inside a destructive version of a travel through the Bifrost.

There were no colours, just white, black, white, black, white, black, spinning in hypnotic circles like a deadly and lifeless rainbow. And cold, very cold, except when he seemed to have gone through Muspelheim where the unbearable heat made him scream even louder.

Somewhere in the fall, when he no longer cared about anything and just wanted to die, a swirl of something that at first glance looked like red dust stuck on his skin. He immediately knew it was dark magic, perhaps coming from Svartalheim, and he could feel in an almost physical way how the magic tried to extract his thoughts and fill his mind with only darkness.

And Loki fought it by simple instinct, gathering all his strengths and power, which answered his call in an instant. It was like another battle, only this time his opponent was greater than he was. He was not surprised. He knew that hidden within the limits of the worlds and outer space there were strange things, terrible, powerful and deadly things that nobody had ever survived to tell if they came across them. Murderous red dust. It wouldn't be unusual at all. If he weren't so busy fighting it, Loki would have laughed. Actually, even though he was busy fighting it, Loki laughed as he fell and defended his thoughts.

Suddenly his pain had subsided, now he was in his element, doing what he knew how to do, without any disappointed father watching him and no other problem in sight. Long series of powerful words left his lips, like an endless recitation, repelling the attack of the dark magic. He began to feel tired, as if he were trying to hold a closed door as a giant pushed to enter.

And it was there, as he struggled to keep his mind intact, where he realized he didn't want to die. Simply he did not want. Even after everything that had happened, after all that despair and hatred, he wanted to live, somewhere where he would not have to continue to be rejected by everyone.

There was a world where even though they had tremendous problems of racism and wars, Loki would not be rejected. He would be more accepted than in any of these other worlds that self-proclaimed civilized and liberal, like Vanaheim and Asgard. Loki was not a big fan of humans, but now Midgard was synonymous with paradise in his mind. If he landed on the human Earth, maybe he could fix his life before returning to face the damn egocentric people of Asgard and the other worlds. Mistakes and all, humans would be those who would accept him when even his supposed "family" didn't accepted him.

He kept falling, along the fringes of the worlds without entering any of them, just falling, and he knew that at the end of all he could expect only death and oblivion into that nothingness deep down, And then he glimpsed the seas and continents of Midgard, which was about to pass by him and escape his reach forever. And Loki would not allow that.

Although he himself did not believe it, Loki was exceptionally powerful. That magic that was trying to consume him was a very strange and twisted one, and he, a god, a single god, was facing it and managing to keep it at bay, and he got rid of it just as they passed by human Earth. When he travelled through the Bifrost, the rainbow bridge, he could decide his exact destination and get there without any mishap. If it had been in the Bifrost, Loki would have simply wished to land in Midgard and he would land in Midgard without any problems.

But outside the bridge, there were no rules, no security, there was only chaos. Someone who fell as Loki did, would have no way to choose where to land and would not survive the experience. But he was not like any other.

In an instant, Loki had to bet it all.

At the precise moment that the red dust finally left his body and freed him to use his magic on something else, in the limited three seconds Midgard passed by his eyes, Loki allowed all his power to flow in a single sentence that created a kind of personal and unique Bifrost which lasted an instant and allowed him to choose his destiny.

London, in Midgard, he thought, and felt how his fall took a different direction, he was surrounded by a flash of bright and blinding colours, and saw the ground coming at full speed, continent, island, country, city, river, and Loki broke the spell just before he ran out of magic. The Bifrost he had created vanished in a blink, and Loki found himself falling without control nor direction from four hundred metres high. The River Thames was directly below him, and with a whistling sound, Loki's body rushed into the stream. The collision and the warm water paralyzed him, and he could only see bubbles before bottoming out and losing consciousness.