Morgan woke up in a haze of nausea. When she rose up from her couch, her legs did not support her. She stumbled on the floor and collapsed.
She opened her eyes seconds later. Her head was hurting beyond reason, she was sweating and wanted to throw up.
"Ow... What... is... going on..." She mumbled.
She laboriously crawled on the floor to reach her satellite phone, to call Archie, or whoever might help, but she collapsed a second time.
When she woke up again, she did not move a muscle.
"Alright, stay on the floor, play dead, the most important is, do not faint again." She thought.
She began counting down the possibilities of what could have happened to her.
First, a snake had escaped and bit her. Morgan turned her gaze towards the shelf. She only had three snakes. The king brown, a pygmy copperhead and a dugite. All of them were in their boxes. And she detected no other intruding lifeform in the house.
Second, a very sudden and severe food poisoning. But the symptoms were strange. She indeed had shivers, sweating and nausea but she also had this specific migraine that only her powers could create.
Which left her with the last option; physical exhaustion. Morgan sighed. Of course. She had overused her powers. Not only had she ventured in Whatever-its-name and allowed the coexistence of both her and Loki's mind almost every single day, during weeks, but she had attempted to transfer her resistance not only to his mind but to his body. This had been the coup de grâce.
She needed a long break. But she did not want to.
"Really." She muttered "Couldn't this happen after I help Loki getting out?"
On second thought, maybe it was better like that. She needed all her strength to confront Whatever-its-name. She had to rest as much as her body required.
"So, what do I require?" She asked herself out-loud.
Water.
Right. Still unsure about her legs, she crawled towards the fridge and seized a water bottled, which she emptied very slowly.
Next, food.
She grabbed a large box, which contained not really good-looking squares. One would have doubted that these were actual food. Morgan bit into one, taking her time to chew and swallow.
Pemmican was a high-energy mixture of fat and protein that she had learned to make in Canada. It was traditionally made of moose or bison meat, with some berries and nuts, and could be kept in perfect condition for months, or even years. She had cooked tons of it, using beef, before driving into the Outback.
Morgan already felt a little better. She was taking long breaths. Her headache was still terrible, she was still sweating like in the middle of the desert (which she kind of already was), but at least, no more shivers. Good start. Minutes later, she felt good enough to stand up, clinging to the walls, to grab some painkillers and a towel in the bathroom. She put a generous amount of cold water on the towel and wiped her forehead. Better. The hardest part seemed to be behind her.
"As far as I understand, you were half-dead." Som summed up.
"Pretty much. God save the Queen." Morgan answered, right after having put the heart queen in the middle of the table.
"And you are doing all of this for him. You know what, when I will meet this Loki of a god face-to-face, I will break a bottle on his head."
"He won't feel anything."
"I know. But it will make me feel better."
Som put a club on the top of the pile, rose up and jumped, then sat down.
"So, I guess... From the way you talk about him..." He started.
"Spit it out." Morgan smiled.
"Would you be drifting, and I say that just in case, towards a not-so-innocent-more-than-friendship-kind-of-a-relation?"
Morgan put a pair of spades and clapped her hands twice. Som considered it as an equivocal silence.
"I was sure. Two hundred percent."
Som and Morgan were playing the Best Game in Port Augusta. The proper name was the Best Game in Every Place We Play It. It was also called Mao, and the main rule could not be simpler; there are no rules. Talking about rules was forbidden, the winner of each game invented a new one, and everyone they had ever wanted to play with had ended up running after them in an attempt to smash their face on the table, or to make them swallow the entire card deck, or both, in a fit of creativity.
"So, you think you will get him out or you are sure you will get him out?"
"I am sure." Morgan asserted "And, if not for my physical exhaustion, I would do it right away."
"I know. I mean, I know that you are extremely strong. But, this White World... You can still be trapped again."
"This is a possibility. But, as you say, if we never attempt anything, nothing would ever be attempted."
"I was also sure you would say that." Som laughed.
He took another swallow of beer. Australian beer, this time. He and Morgan were playing cards in front of the ocean, close to Port Augusta. It was the end of the day. Nothing around them except seagulls. Morgan had spent nine days without going a single time in Whatever-its-name, and she was more than happy to see Som again. They always talked about everything that could possibly be talked about. Like her, Som had this intellectual curiosity that made him so eager to discover new concepts and ideas. His will to explore and question, combined with his bullet-proof self-confidence, was almost like radiation. It contaminated everyone around him. There was only one thing Morgan did not want to explain to him, and it was the White World. She knew that he craved explanations but pretended not to care, after having seen her devastated by her first experience. But now, things had changed. She could describe it to him. Although she figured that waiting for Loki in order to do so was probably not a bad idea.
"What time is it?" She suddenly asked, putting her cards down.
"Seven o'clock. I thought you did not want to hear about time."
"Except when it's your birthday, kiddo."
Morgan took an envelope out of her pocket and handled it to him. Today was April twenty-fifth and Som had just turned twenty-nine.
"Oh... How did you do that?" Som said, his blue eyes shining with surprise "I mean, stuck in the middle of nowhere and you still find a way to... I shouldn't even be surprised, but still..."
"I had to find something to the height of your present." Morgan chuckled.
"Thanks, La Fay."
"You are very welcome, Elf."
The next day, Morgan was back in Oodnadatta. She felt good. Actually, she felt good for days, but she really wanted to take as few risks as possible (if possible was probably more accurate) when entering Whatever-its-name again.
It was the middle of the night. Morgan decided to go outside just in case Loki's possible comeback would destroy her house. Anything was possible.
She sat down. Time to go. She closed her eyes.
"Morgan!" Loki shouted again.
"I am here! I am alright!" She said "How long have you waited?"
"Not long. What happened to you? You seemed to be pain!"
Loki had to admit, these had been among the most terrible ten seconds of his entire life. And he had lived for centuries.
"I was exhausted, that was all. I overestimated my capacities. But I am fine, now."
"Are you sure?"
"Don't you trust me now, Loki?"
Hearing her pronouncing his name, which she did not do very often, was almost hypnotizing. He brought his hand just above hers, palm downwards, and she followed his gesture, turning her hand upwards. As if they were about to touch each other.
"I trust you, which is why I do not want to lose you."
"So, do not lose me." She smiled.
Her eyes turned bright gold once again. This time, Loki felt like an electric current was running down his spine, right towards his head. It was not very pleasant, but not painful either. He felt a very subtle taste of metal in his mouth. His head was tickling him a little, as if he had numerous sparkles around it.
"I... think it is done." Morgan said.
Judging by her tone, she had expected something much more spectacular, or maybe agonizing.
"Way out." Loki whispered.
"Yes, but how?"
"No, I mean, this is written over here." The Asgardian pointed.
She turned around and saw the door. It was a very simple wooden door, with the letters WAY OUT written above it. It stood in the middle of whiteness.
"It really looks like the beginning of Alice in Wonderland. I look forward to meeting the Cheshire Cat."
"Is it another literary reference?"
"For sure. Should we go?"
Loki and Morgan walked toward the door. The god of Mischief grabbed the handle and opened it. On the other side stood nothing less than Space. With asteroids, stars, and galaxies, basically everything one can expect when thinking about Space.
"This might be a lengthening." Loki said.
"What do you mean?"
"I was thinking about how impossible it seemed to get out of Whatever-its-name. But getting out, for both of us, actually means "going to Midgard". So, I figured that if we take a completely unpredictable and illogical way out, it might paradoxically be easier."
"You are a genius."
"God."
"Right. Do we count to three?"
"What for? There is no time yet."
Travelling between Space and Time was not really something Loki and Morgan were keen on doing. Being only a soul, Morgan was spared all the disagreeable sensations of endlessly falling, brutally stopping and sometimes not feeling some parts of the body. However, she could fully enjoy the sheer terror of not knowing where they were heading, and actually if they were managing to head somewhere. As for Loki, it was the other way around. Despite feeling like slowly crushed by a steamroller, he was so determined to find his way that he did not even think about getting lost.
Which was what saved them. The mere idea of defeat is often enough to cause defeat. They fell and ran and jumped, from nowhere to everywhere. They came across more dimensions than they could conceive.
"Woah, Loki! Wh-where are you?" Morgan screamed, utterly terrified.
"Focus on me!" Was the only thing he managed to answer.
Suddenly, they found themselves in a place he knew too well. Corpses were spread on the floor. Someone was tied up by metal pieces. A gigantic individual held a seemingly lifeless body in his hand.
"Is this..." Morgan began.
"Thanos. And... me."
How strange it was, to see his inert body dropped in front of his brother, how painful to see his face torn by despair! Loki looked at himself. Eyes opened, he seemed perfectly dead. Morgan was looking as terrified as he was. With now two Infinity Stones fixed on his Gauntlet, Thanos proceeded to destroy the Asgardian ship. Blue and purple explosions surrounded them and Thor, who was crying over his brother's body. Everything was falling apart. The god of Thunder was projected further away, while Loki's body was slowly turning blue, coming back to his Frost Giant appearance.
"The cold..." He muttered.
The deep cold he remembered. The cold from outer space. The cold seemed to revive the very small sparkle of life he was clinging to. Morgan extended her hand and, to their common surprise, managed to touch his Jotunn skin. Then, purple and blue flashes blinded them, they fell again, rapidly, more and more rapidly, Loki wondered if he was actually feeling Morgan's hand, and suddenly they stumbled in the Australian dust.
Suggested end song: Queens, We are the Champions. Nah, just kidding. But that's what Morgan is thinking right now.