Introduction

The sound of marching feet fills the hallways of my castle. My guards were disposed of quickly, not that they would have made much of a difference. They were simply slaves meant to die by either my own hands, or by those that they defend me from.

I already know who it is that has arrived at my halls. The stomp of his metal boots, and the thundering cracks of his mallet. Yes, it is Thor, my foolish brother. Well, a Thor, one of the millions that come to me, rage and righteous vengeance burning in his body and mind. He hopes in his heart that I can turn from the path that I have walked, that in his hubris, he can change me.

He will hold back despite what I have done, and that will be his undoing.

He will fall like the countless before him. The countless Asgardian children that believed that I am a mistaken being, that I am foolish and with their infinite wisdom, they can make me change..

The first memory that I look back on was climbing into my brother's crib and wrapping my tiny hands around his neck in an attempt to end the disgusting crotch spawn. Yet what did he do? Even as a tiny child, he threw me out of the crib, laughing as if I was just playing with him, that this was all some joke.

Booom Booom

His mallet repeatedly strikes the doors of my hall, and the very world shakes with the power that he holds in his hands. If this was the first time that I had fought and killed a brother of mine, perhaps I would have felt some degree of fear, and my heart would have wavered, yet this was not the first time, and after the countless confrontations, even this has become boring.

I could have hidden somewhere that Thor could not have found me, yet that would have been pointless, as I want him to find me, and have made it possible for that to happen.

This sense of accomplishment fostered in my brother is nothing but a cruel thread of many that controls his movements. That sense of hope that since he found me, he might have a chance to 'save me' is what stays his hand, that since he broke down my defenses he would have very little to worry about from me myself. This sense of order and control is yet another deception to make the raging Asgardian feel that he is on the top, instead of deep in the bottom of the pit that I have carefully built to trap and control him.

While he knows me, he will be preparing for a dagger in his back, or some slippery spell that will deprive him of his power, for that is the reputation that I have fostered. The damning tracks that I have left for him to come find me. Yet the death he will face will be directly from the front.

However, something strange has happened. I don't hear his raging voice. In fact, I haven't heard my brother say anything at all, and that is slightly unnerving. Yet that is within prediction, as he may be waiting to address me when me meet face to face. Still, something bites at my heart. Some feeling that something is dreadfully wrong.

CRACKOOOOM

The doors to my hall shatter, and splinters of metal flash throughout the hall with frightening speed.

Thor steps through the remains of the door. Magical power flares around him and his eyes are filled with a cold hatred. Right, this must have been a Thor from a universe where I sold his mother and father as slaves to the frost giants, and then left. A smile threatens to break out across my face as I remember my various deeds however I do not let it form, as the spectacle is more valuable than some momentary amusement.

I rise from my throne, raising my arms about to welcome my brother.

However things do not play out as I expect. In fact, the one thing I never expected happened.

Crack

Everything when black.

My head splatters like a melon from the unbridled power of Mjollnir, and my body falls to the ground, a pool of blood quickly forming below me.

I had died again. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a crib again. A strange energy filled the world around me, and even as a baby with my senses weakened, I could tell the power of the gods when I felt it.

So where was I?

This certainly wasn't Asgard, and it didn't have the same feeling as Midgard. If I could sigh to make my displeasure with the situation known, I certainly would have, yet it would be of no help in this silent room. I looked my body over, it was not that of a Jotunn or that of an Asgardian. No it was that of a mortal with no magic to speak of. Already I was feeling exhausted, as the mind of this baby was not meant for such complex concepts, and since I didn't seem to be in any danger, I closed my eyes and fell back to sleep, leaving the thinking to future Loki.

And such, I slept, something I would do a lot given my situation.

Ten years later, such a short amount of time, merely a blink to Gods such as myself, I had grown into a young boy of twelve years, and I was raised by a rather reticient mother, who had been divorced mere days after I was born to a father who cared very little about me or my new mother. Not that I cared, I've gone through death and rebirth many times, and things like a loving family of mortals would only get in my way, especially after I found out where exactly I was.

An alternate universe where the Gods and Goddeses went down to live amongst mortals. It was demeaning, degrading, and I almost wished death upon myself if this was the world that I would find myself in, yet there was hope. Perhaps the version of me from this dimension could aid me in my goals? I would have to find out after making a name for myself.

My new mother named me some pathetic name, but I wasn't about to be named by some pathetic mortal who can't even maintain power in a relationship, and names held a lot of power.

No, I chose my own name, albeit reversed, Ikol. For the time being I would wait, amassing power and magic, to regain my divinity, then reveal myself when the time was right, yes. After all, Time was on my side.