After breakfast, Loki went to work. On his arrival, a few people came over to express their relief that he had not been not harmed in the unfortunate Banana Incident, and to tell him they were glad he had decided to stay on the team. Loki smiled politely and thanked them, feeling a tiny urge to explode something in a celebratory manner. He refrained.

Today was the day he got to perform the big death scene. While he was waiting for it to be prepared for filming, he helped a group of supporting characters with their lines. Then didn't necessarily ask for his help, but they were sitting in a circle not far from him, and whenever one of them recited a line wrong, he automatically corrected it.

After a few more minutes, his scene was ready to be filmed. So far in his career, he had done a wide range of stunts from fight scenes to flying leaps, including one memorable scene where he had to drown. Today, he finally got to jump off of something tall. Of course it didn't look that tall from the bottom. Four storey's only. He climbed up the ladder and stood in position near the director.

Melissa was standing a few feet behind, ready to run up and call after him.

Loki noticed absentmindedly that it looked quite a lot taller from up here.

"Okay," called Ross, sitting in his Director's Chair, which Loki had replaced for him as a thank-you. "Action."

Loki let his foot tip over the edge and stared down at the airbag below. It looked terribly small and insignificant. Nonsense, he thought. Just step off. So he did.

Wind raced past him. He was falling quickly, but it all seemed terribly slow. He could hear nothing but the wind rushing past his ear, and knew with a sudden strike of panic that there was nothing to hear, because he was alone in the void and he would never reach the bottom.

Calm down, Loki thought, trying to breathe evenly. It will be over soon, it's only four storeys, the ground is right there—

"No!" Melissa called, looking into the camera with an expression of devastation.

Loki was a few feet above the airbag when a shimmer of light seemed to envelop him and he disappeared.

Ross looked at the airbag, and then at the building.

"What happened?" Melissa shouted.

"I—Uh—he—" Ross noticed a camera still rolling. "Cut!" he snapped, and stood up.

Norman from Props glanced over at his best friend Earl, who had been eating popcorn. He was staring into the air with his mouth open.

"Did we just see someone spontaneously combust?" he asked.

"Don't be silly," Earl said, putting the popcorn down. "I'm a pyrotechnic. I've replicated spontaneous combustion more times than you can count—or at least more times than you have. There would have been flames, or smoke, not green light."

"Aren't flames green when they get really, really hot?"

Earl put down his popcorn silently.

Norman picked it up. "He's got magic, right? Maybe he's not really dead?" He glanced over at his friend.

"—Right, yeah." Earl trailed off. "Maybe."

.

.

.