(LOKI)

"Are you there?" she said, reverberating in the darkness.

What?

I hadn't been dreaming. A void surrounded me. Time didn't exist, nor did space. My body was far away—a broken entity to house my rested mind.

Her voice roused me from the suffocating silence. "Ginny, is that you?"

She asked again, "Are you there?"

"I'm here," I said, reaching with my spirit to find her. When I'd visited with Mother from Asgard's dungeons, we shared a connection that manifested in the same illusions I cloaked myself with—but Sigyn wasn't able to project herself, was she?

Flash.

What once was black now bleached white—glaring white—hurting my nonexistent eyes. The space where I stood wasn't quite a room, nor was it dream; I had a body, but it had no feeling. No pain or pleasure, warmth or cold. This magic was pure, innocent, and incapable of deception. An astral place where physical bodies meant little, and souls could connect despite distance.

Yet I was alone. "Ginny?" I cried, terrified that she'd been lost somehow. "Where are you?"

"Sleeping." Her voice surrounded me, but she wasn't visible. "It doesn't feel like a dream."

"No, it's no dream. I must be well enough for conduction. Has someone taught you the way?" If I had a heartbeat, it would've sent me to another realm—the energy her presence came with flickered with more brightness. "You're so close. Concentrate. I'm not leaving."

The walls waved in and out as if made of gelatin. An illusion of my own hands and feet manifested beneath me, granting a sense of whole being.

How do I even see myself? With no mirrors, only she would know for sure.

My back tingled, sensing a closeness. Something or someone. A static tickle, like a hand inches in front of one's face, but far enough away to give no contact.

"I feel you," she whispered, right behind me now.

The white room tempered with a slight blue, the same tone as the eyes I missed so much. "As can I."

"I'm afraid to turn around. What if you disappear?"

"And leave your side?" I chuckled, finally relaxing enough to have some semblance of my former self—the one she knew; the man she pulled from secrecy and into her heart. She might've feared the unknown, but I didn't, so I twisted to face her.

As I suspected, her connection was weak. A sheen of light pink surrounded her form—typical for an amateur. Years of practice might perfect it, but for now, it would suffice. While her back was to me, it was evident by her humble attire that Sigyn viewed herself as simple and common, undervaluing her strength. She nervously tugged at the bottom of her tunic, which phased between a light brown and black, like she couldn't decide which color would suit best.

I reached for her and hit an invisible wall, like a pane of glass separated us. Not a surprise, but still a disappointment. "There you are."

Sigyn finally looked at me, smiling with closed lips that quivered the longer she took in the view. "This is much better than a dream."

"Yes, though in my dreams, I can still touch you." I put my right hand flat against the barrier to invite her into the same position. "Seems there's still something to wait for."

She nodded and put her hand on the opposite side.

I had to lean down to catch her wandering eyes. "Have you any idea when they'll wake me?"

"Freyr says your body will know when it's ready. Grid thinks the harvest will encourage all manner of rebirth...the way she said it implied that might mean you, too. Several weeks, at least."

I nodded. "Little compared to the future, I think."

Her lips curled in a slight smile and she dropped her hand from the barrier as I did. "With what Freyr told me about how this works, somehow I thought you'd be dressed in your armor. But I'm glad you prefer this." She gestured up and down over me.

"I can't see it. How do I appear to you?"

"As you did when I found you in the bell tower. Dark green, brown leather. Your hair's long again."

Made sense to me —I clung to my last night as a man, not a pariah. "Well, I'd think you'd want to appear in the grand robes of a hero. You've certainly earned it."

"You flatter me." Her projection waned a bit. Concentration going elsewhere. She must've blushed in her sleep at my words. Charming, but another sign of how little she understood how to maintain her presence.

"Stay focused." I lowered my tone, speaking slowly. "The more you do this, the better it will be."

She clenched her fist. "I wish we didn't have to do this. I wish you could visit me some other way, so I'd feel you beside me."

"Give it time. Patience reaps great rewards."

"Patience." She rolled her eyes. "Just a polite way to talk about waiting. I can fill my time with other things, but it's still waiting. So many things to be patient for, when all I want is to start over. Can't do that until more things are certain."

"Such as what? If we'll stay here or settle in The Don City?"

Sigyn's eyes shot wide open, and the gleam around her form flickered again. "I suppose that's one thing I'm troubled with. Where we'll end up. If we'll spend the rest of our lives hiding from Odin's wrath."

"A worthy concern..."—I hesitated before telling her what I'd seen from the power of the river—"...so, yes. I'll agree that those plans will be best made when I've returned to my full strength."

She opened her lips as if to speak, but only nodded instead.

"Sigyn, I can feel your worry."

"Well—"

"Is it the Vanir? Have they not taken care of you like I asked?"

"No, they're wonderful. It's lovely here. I suppose this is leftover disappointment from the circumstances." She closed her eyes, becoming more transparent by the second. "Foolish when I think about it."

I shook my head, confused. "What's foolish?"

She rambled, letting her insecurities out through her words. "The fleeting moment when I...I dared think what we had was more important than Odin, or Thor, or the rest of Asgard. A wish to find real happiness. Now I doubt complete happiness exists with all these threats behind us, in front of us, some we know, some we don't—"

"Happiness?" I only interrupted when she suggested it was lost. "I can hardly recall such a thing. My life's been filled with so much disappointment, I'd given up on ever knowing what more than a moment felt like again. But when I see you..."—I searched her face, which was missing some of the landmarks I enjoyed the most because she likely didn't know they belonged there—"...it remains. It's new. If we find happiness when we get what we want, then it's already here. I've chosen you, Sigyn, as you chose me. Happiness isn't lost to us. Merely delayed."

"Oh, Loki." The obstacle between us grew thicker, pushing her away. "No...I think I'm waking up. I don't want to go yet."

Already? It was such a short rendezvous, my own illusion wavered from disappointment. "Will you try again? Even if I cannot find you every time, will you make an attempt?"

Her soft smile lit her whole face—what I could still see of it. "Of course. I want you to rest. Please heal quickly." She shifted to the side, turning around to walk into the white void.

An unlikely reality hurt my heart while she walked away. Every time might be the last. "Ginny, wait," I yelled. "Say it again."

She met my gaze again, too far away to gauge her expression. No words.

Acknowledging how I'd asked before would let her know I hadn't forgotten. I lifted my hand and signed as I would with my real body. [Say it again.]

She beamed, barely able to call back to me before she disappeared. "I love you, Loki. Come back to me."

I pressed both hands against the wall, speaking with no audience. "All my life's battles, allies, enemies, and great conquests, yet love stayed the hands of death against me." Knowing she hadn't made the claim as a desperate comfort to me before I would succumb was all the motivation I needed to plan our future.

The white room surrounding me dimmed to a dark gray, as if a cloud settled in. I stepped back and looked over myself, but the illusion remained. This was a presence even darker and more sinister than my own.

What followed was a voice so monumental and low, it was difficult to understand beyond the vast reverberations that ran circles around me. "Loki of Asgard, do you seek vengeance?"

I grinned with a low chuckle. "Am I being challenged?"

"No. Recruited." Steady booms of footprints came closer and closer until another barrier behind me formed between us. "I wish to conquer the thunderous god who once devastated my home, uprooting the underworld and my grip of Earth."

"Kill Thor, hm?" Already my poetic justice was designed. I turned to face him, holding my head high and praying my form would change to show the warrior I was. "And who might you be?"

He towered above and outward, with a body that matched the command of his voice. Pulsing veins snaked over his exposed physique, which was an unnatural shade of maroon. Not quite blue, not quite red—like concentrated blood starved of air. Without hair, swirling symbols of a language unknown covered his head, constantly moving. He wasn't of any realm I ever knew.

"Pluto," he said, smiling with two rows of blackened teeth, as if his mouth hid another inside. "Agree to control my army and bring me to Asgard, and I'll leave you the rest when Thor's paid his debt."

I tipped my head. "And in return?"

"I can clear Thanos's bounty on your head." He chuckled this time, letting spit drip from his lips. "If you say no, I'll tell him where to find you."

It wasn't a choice, but motivations didn't matter. If he had an army and a grudge, I had an advantage. Claim my throne, clear my name, and start again?

Oh, yes, Ginny. Happiness isn't far off at all.