XXXVI

If Jane had had enough optimism to wonder where she would have been and what she would have been doing months after being captured in the aftermath of the Battle of Manhattan, well…

First things first, she wouldn't have been optimistic enough to assume she would have survived at all. So many of her friends and colleagues had been executed once all information had been extracted—willingly or otherwise—from them. They had died ignobly, without dignity or respect, and nothing they said or offered to do for their captors had done anything to prolong their fearful lives by one measly breath.

Jane had never had any reason to think herself special or different from the others. Until the day she sat across from Loki and told herself a story to pass the time until she died, she always assumed she'd go the same way as all of them. Drawing a conclusion from false premises would only lead to bad results. She had never hoped for a way out. But…

Even if she had held a fragment of hope for the future, even if she'd thought she might have been able to wiggle her way out of the rat trap Loki held her in, she never, not in a thousand years, could have seen herself there, standing in the Bifrost generator room on Asgard, surrounded by Giants of flame and frost, waiting until the rest of their army arrived before making a run on the Palace. How could she?

Nope. Who, put in her situation, could have imagined they'd find themselves in her shoes? How could she have suspected all the things that would have happened to her, all the people she would have met, all the power she would somehow hold?

All the things she would have to do? The people she would have to hurt, the lies she would have to tell?

There was no time to think about the past, even if it would hide her from the unbearable reality of the present. But to abnegate the present would be to lose the future. She had to stay focused. Danger wasn't just in front of her, but all around. The only person in the crowd she could trust was Loki. And wasn't that just bewildering?

Still, it was true.

It was hard to stand away from him and watch as he stalked from one side of the room to the other. An expression of greed splashed across his face, and he seemed unable to look away from the brilliant spires of the Palace in the distance as he walked. A fire burned in his green eyes and his fingers were restless, sliding over each other, sparking green flames that reflected off the rainbow crystal beneath his feet. He looked like a panther, all coiled muscle and potential energy, stalking through the jungle, waiting to leap on his prey.

His prey which, at the moment, seemed blissfully unaware of the dangers that threatened them. Their arrival had raised no alarms; Heimdall had been successfully neutralized by the undead soldiers Hela had brought with her. He was still there, standing in the corner, weakened and pale as his captors slowly leeched the life from him under Hela's direction. His golden eyes searched her green ones, wondering and hurt. This was a betrayal he hadn't foreseen, and his failure was hurting him as much as her poisonous influence. It was hard to watch him, though not for the most obvious reasons. Jane liked seeing him weak and vulnerable, but she didn't like that she liked it.

She ignored it as best she could. She knew she'd be doing that a lot in the near future. She didn't like that either.

At least there was no more time to think about it. That was what she had to do; she had to stop thinking and just get through it. If Loki was right, she'd get through it with enough of her soul intact. But was he right?

"The last of us are here, Odinson," Laufey said, "Let us be done with this."

"Very well," Loki turned on the group, almost vibrating as he stood there, "We are all agreed on what must be done? Surtr to the barracks, Laufey to the tower?"

"We all know what we must do," Surtr grumbled, "Let us begin. I am impatient to see Odin at the mercy of my sword as we have so often been at the mercy of his."

"Then let us begin. Jane," Loki reached out a hand, "Join me."

It was such a clichéd villain line that she had to bite down on a smile, because there was nothing funny about all this. Nothing funny about the heavy weight of assembled eyes she felt on her back as she stepped forward—pointedly not taking Loki's hand—and stood at his side, arms folded.

"What?"

"The longer we can postpone our enemies seeing us is an advantage," he gestured towards the long length of the Bifrost, where there was nowhere for their forces to hide. "You can give me the strength to extend a concealment spell over us, or you can make us invisible. Which will it be?"

She blinked. "I'll do it," she said, after a moment. Because she could do it, and it was an act that would hurt no one. Yet, anyway. The faster the fight was over, the fewer lives would be lost. Hopefully.

She turned, raising her hands, feeling silly. But having some kind of action to tie her words to was helpful. As she spoke, she lowered her hands as though settling a sheet over the group, a blanket of invisibility that she tucked in around them, snug as a child at night.

"No one can see, hear, or feel us," she said, "No spell can detect us. Not until we want to be seen."

Nothing happened. A grumble ran through the group.

Jane dropped her hands, shaking her head. "I…I don't understand. I felt it. I believe it. I don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong," Loki replied. "The terms of your spell were such that no one outside our band could see the other. Magic is particular; it is important to be specific. But you did well. It would be dangerous any other way; we ought to see one another. My friends," now he spoke to the group at large, "do not be concerned. You have all seen the power of the Reality Stone for yourselves. You know it is capable of more than this. We have not come this far to falter now."

"Right," Jane murmured, to herself if no one else. She lifted her chin with a jerk and said again, "No one can see us. No one can hear us. No one can touch us. We're invisible to them. Not until we want to be seen and heard."

Then, without waiting for anyone else's input, she stepped onto the Rainbow Bridge and out of the shadows, in plain view of the city.

Nothing happened. Looking down, she couldn't see any ripples of rainbow light from where her timid feet stepped. Behind her, no shadow stretched out to betray her. The birds overhead took no notice of her passing, wheeling onward towards the city with a lonely cry. She was invisible. As she knew she was.

She turned. Loki was a few paces away; he was the only one who had dared to follow her. "It's all right," she said to him, nodding.

"Of course it is," he replied. "I do not doubt you, Jane."

Ugh. Why did he have to say things like that, in that soft sincere voice he used on no one else? Did he know what it did to her, his praise? Did he know how badly sometimes she wanted to believe in him believing in her, even though she knew it was a terrible, dangerous thing to do? Did he trust her because he had engineered a situation where she had no one else to rely on, or did he trust her because he knew how badly she wanted to have a solid spot to stand, and he had made himself into that for her?

Suddenly, she couldn't bear to look at him looking at her, looking at her like he wouldn't raise a hand if she lashed out at him, which she had no intention of doing. She couldn't betray him, she wouldn't. He trusted her, and he was right to do it. If they were deluded, at least they were sharing the same delusion. That was a comfort, even when it shouldn't be.

She faced the ocean instead, watching long rolling waves hurtle towards the shore, hoping vainly that their even rhythm would calm the shaky shudder of her heart.

Over her shoulder, she heard Loki sneer, "Mighty soldiers of Muspelheim and Jotunheim, are you to be outdone by a mortal woman? She has more courage than the pack of you together!"

A greater grumble ran through the group, followed by a rumbling shuffle of feet. The army was on the move.

Jane wanted to wait for them to pass by, but Loki swooped a hand around her elbow and tugged her along with them at the front of the crowd. Despite their much shorter steps, no one passed them by. Whether through fear or respect, the army recognized them as their leaders. Jane's back prickled as she felt the phantom touch of their curious eyes. What were they thinking? Her thoughts were so thick and tangled she could feel them manifesting over her head, a multicolored ball of tangled twine that no careful attention could unknot.

She shook her head. Whatever they thought didn't matter. She couldn't concern herself with them, or Loki, or anything else but the challenge in front of them. They were almost at the end of the Bridge.

As they reached it, their party split into thirds. The Frost Giants turned left and marched into the city, passing unnoticed, unheard, and unfelt by the crowds that wandered Asgard's broad avenues. Several of the Giants leaped aside, contorting their large bodies to avoid touching anyone, but soon they realized nothing they did would be noticed. Their feet, which would normally have spread ice across the cobblestones, didn't even seem to touch the ground.

It was the same with the Fire Giants, peeling off to the right. None of their sulfuric odor pierced the veil of invisibility Jane's power had settled over them. Hell was walking side-by-side with mothers and children, with fishermen and guards, with the elderly and young, and no one felt it pass.

They would know it soon.

As for Loki, Jane, Hela, and her undead, they walked straight up from the Bridge towards the Palace. Despite wanting to keep focused on their goal, Jane found herself distracted by all the new sights on every side. She had seen so little of Asgard—the real Asgard of most of its people, anyway—and it was so different from Jotunheim and Muspelheim, that she was fascinated by everything.

It was so…normal. There were shops and restaurants, little booths and tables lining the street with wares of all sorts. Bolts of colorful fabric spilled from a window here, glittering jewels set into shining metals lined a table there. Each district they passed through seemed to have its own flavor. In one, heady scents of ale and mead permeated the atmosphere, so solid Jane thought she might be able to open her mouth and take a bite out of the air. In another, children laughed happily as they darted through a public park, climbing onto statues of moss-grown heroes of ages past and having wooden sword fights on the lawns.

If she closed her eyes—which she couldn't do, everything was so fascinating—she might have been in any one of a thousand cities on Earth. And like any one of those thousand cities, in a little while its peace and prosperity would be irrevocably shattered.

It wasn't her fault. It wasn't. It wasn't. Everyone here was the beneficiary of the pain Odin and his lineage had inflicted on the rest of the universe. Sooner or later, they had to know that some of that pain would reverberate back to them. Was that their fault? No. But they would suffer for it regardless, just as Jane and the rest of humanity had suffered, because ultimately, the commoners had no control over what horrors their leaders visited on others and what would be done to them in return.

They were equally as helpless.

After that, Jane couldn't look any more. Nor did she have to, for a few minutes later, a terrible crack ripped through the air, punctuated by shrieks and gasps from the people around them.

In the distance behind, a tall building, long and narrow as a needle, gave a lurch. Groaning deeply, it settled into its foundation, tilted, and hurtled towards the ground. There was a distant cry, a thunderous crash, and then silence.

To Jane's right, a stunned voice was the first to speak. "Gyda," a woman turned to her daughter, her face slack and ashen, "go and fetch your brother. He can run for the guard. I will take these," she bundled up an armful of her wares, delicate and fluttering headscarves and handkerchiefs, "to the houses of healing. They might have need of them. Mind the store till I return, but if anything else happens, take yourself and the baby to the watch. They will keep you safe."

The girl swallowed. "Yes, mama," she said, voice faint and thin.

Wasn't that how it had started for them too, on Earth? Confusion reigned during the first attacks, no one fully able to process what was happening to them, or the truth about all that was shortly to happen afterwards. An alien invasion? Preposterous! What had they ever done to deserve something like that?

"Come," Loki spurred her and Hela on, "We cannot let the Palace Guard make their way down to the fight. We must keep Odin's forces divided."

Running now, they raced up the streets towards the Palace, passing bodily through other bewildered bystanders as they clustered together and stared at the plume of dust and smoke rising like a distress beacon into the clear sky. Jane's feet flew without uncertainty, and the effort was a welcome one. It allowed her to put everything behind her, all her worries and fears, as she focused instead her next steps, the next push, the next obstacle to leap. As the Palace grew nearer, this became easier. At least there, she knew who her enemies were.

All too soon, they were racing through an endless series of parterre gardens leading a sweeping vista up to the great golden doors of the Palace. Those doors which, as they arrived, were already opening as though to receive them.

Loki's upraised hand called them to a halt. "Drop your spell, Jane," he said, and the greed she'd seen in his eyes had spread to his voice. It almost trembled with how eager it was to confront whoever was about to come through that door. "Let them know who has done this to them."

"Are you sure?" She wasn't so excited to be visible again; if she could tie up the entire family and throw them in the dungeons, sight unseen, that was her ideal outcome. "Don't you want to keep the element of surprise?"

"They will be plenty surprised," he smiled, wicked. "I would not deny myself the pleasure of seeing it."

"All right," she said, only agreeing because she could hide them again as soon as she revealed them, if necessary. She concentrated, imagining themselves shimmering into reality as she slowly raised her hands. "They'll see us. We're visible."

And in about thirty seconds, seen they were.

Thor was leading the charge, Mjolnir singing in his hand, its bright metallic song at odds with the dark situation. Thor was certainly not singing; they could hear him roaring to his men long before they saw him.

"—me their heads! No one survives, unless you bring them to my father so he can take his time!"

A deep cry of acknowledgement greeted that macabre order, and Thor and a crowd of no fewer than fifty guards stormed out of the gate.

Loki stepped out to meet them, arms spread wide and cape billowing in the breeze. His grin was the only thing wider, and the manic light in his eyes gleamed like a fever. He laughed. It ran shivers up Jane's spine, equal parts gleeful, mocking, and unhinged. He laughed as though any second he would start crying.

"Well, my brother," he laughed, "I will spare you that trouble. Here I stand. Take me to your father, if you wish. Let him give me the punishment I deserve. Let him know how badly his failures have been, that his own children stand here, ready to watch him die."

"You will not live to see Odin," Thor said. He had stopped upon seeing their forces standing ready before him, but now he swaggered forward, flanked by his men. "I will take your lying head from your shoulders and present it to him. Perhaps he will have our sorcerers cast a spell to preserve it when he sets it on a pike on the city walls. Then you will have the recognition you have always craved. You never cared whether it came from glory or ignominy."

"A creative punishment indeed. I am impressed your feeble mind could conjure it."

"'Twas not mine; our mother thought it up when she could no longer make excuses for you."

Jane was close enough to see the flinch in Loki's shoulders. She didn't understand his affection for Frigga—who seemed coldly callous in a way the rest of her family couldn't quite manage—but she could imagine how much it hurt, knowing your mother couldn't force herself to love you any longer.

"Yes," Thor stepped closer; Mjolnir was dangerously in range, "your own mother. But she was never yours, was she? Bastard son of Jotunheim. Will your own father take you in now we will have no more of you? At least you will never have to know."

Quicker than lightning, his massive arm swung forward, Mjolnir coming within millimeters of Loki's nose as he dodged back.

"Perhaps she would have loved you still, if you had not corrupted our sister along with you. Hela," he leaned around Loki and spoke to her, "our father will still have you back. You will suffer for this, but not forever, and not to your death. Help me kill this snake. Come home."

"Come home to stand beneath you?" Hela snorted. Jane had ensured that Hela would not betray them—stoking the woman's hatred for her brother to even greater fury had been easy—but the disgust that permeated her voice was all hers, and it was corrosive as acid. "Never. I will accept Odin's apology if and only if he repents for the way he has favored you, who deserved none of his praise save the cock you share."

Thor smirked. "Then after today, my claim to the throne will be uncontested. Perhaps we would have come to blows one day regardless. I thank you for this, then; it makes my life easier."

"You think you will be successful here today?"

"I think you have given me the best reason possible to kill you both," he replied, swinging again at Loki. Mjolnir stuck in midair, moving slowly as if through syrup; a green aura shone around the hammer. Loki's hand was up, fingers straining to hold the spelled weapon in place.

"Your arrogance, Thor," he muttered, "I will take great pleasure in tearing it out along with your heart."

"I would return the favor," Thor grunted, trying to brute force his hammer through the spell, "if you had a heart to lose."

With a grunt, he dropped Mjolnir and instead struck Loki across the face with his left fist. In shock, Loki and the spell both broke, Mjolnir falling to the ground. Loki lashed back with a flurry of tiny daggers that made Thor stumble back so he could climb back to his feet, but the dam was broken.

With a yell, Thor's soldiers ran forward to meet with Hela's undead. The fight was fully joined, with Jane right in the middle of it all.

She dodged backwards, imagining herself in the center of a ball of steel, impossible to penetrate. Her own reddish aura bubbled outwards, a manifestation of her invisible might. Though some of Thor's soldiers were eager to try taking her down, in order to win her strength for themselves, they bounced off her shield without making a dent. Protected, Jane could now fight herself, though her 'fighting' didn't quite deserve the name. Her goal wasn't to hurt anyone, so all she did was concentrate on one soldier after another and visualize him in her old room in the Palace. They could bang on the door all they wanted, but there would be no way out.

At first, Jane focused on men at the fringes of the fight, mostly plucking them away from where they fought Hela's undead, while avoiding where Hela, Thor, and Loki swirled around each other like a tornado made of knives. But as Thor became more and more pressed by his siblings, the more he shouted for his men to help. Jane watched Loki fight off three men at once, their laser-edged blades coming within inches of his throat, before risking it; she nabbed two of those soldiers by their collars and tossed them into her makeshift prison.

That caught Thor's attention. With a bellow of "Get that witch!" he hurled Mjolnir in her direction and charged through the battle.

Jane wasn't immune to doubt. Withstand an average Asgardian soldier? Sure, she could do that. Withstand a magical hammer currently hurtling towards her face?

In her moment of uncertainty, her shield wobbled. She threw her hands up and dropped to her knees. Mjolnir flew over her head, rustling her hair as it went, and boomeranged right back to Thor's hand.

"I'm invincible," Jane muttered, closing her eyes and pressing them into her crossed wrists. The Aether built inside her, pressing out through her skin, turning it into something invulnerable and flawless. "Nothing can hurt me. Not Thor, not Odin, nothing."

She rose. Thor was still charging her down, followed by his men, who were followed by Loki. He wouldn't make it in time, but that was okay. Jane could handle this. She would handle this.

In one moment, Jane was squaring her shoulders, waiting for Thor to bounce off her as his other men had done. She could even feel a little smile curling her lip, imagining his surprise as he found himself powerless to hurt her. In the next moment, her vision went white-purple as something gouged through the soil in front of her.

A beam of light carved through the earth, striking her head-on, jolting her body so that every bone seemed to rattle in its socket. Jane was invulnerable and she didn't have time to doubt it, which was the only reason she was still alive as the beam of light knocked her off her feet and sent her soaring through the air. She saw everything in slow motion as she arced through the air, rotating as she went, and landed face-down into a crater her impact made.

For a moment, everything went dark. When the world returned, she hauled herself upright and turned back to the Palace, where Odin stood on a balcony, looking down on the fight, the Power Stone in his hand.

Note: Was I stupid enough to think I could finish the Asgard war in one chapter? Yes, because I always underestimate how much buildup I like to write to every goddamn thing! But that's okay, we'll finish next time. Stay tuned, babes! And to my American readers, Happy Thanksgiving!