I'm still standing on the bridge when I hear the announcement, blasting down from the sky. In the middle of my scheming, I'm surprised and jump at the sound.

"Greetings, contenders," the voice begins, and I furrow my brow. Normally, voices don't address us from the sky. It takes me a moment before I realize the voice belongs to Christine Everhart, the announcer for the Contest of Champions. Why is she speaking to us? She's supposed to speak to the audience!

Then I remember. Sometimes in the Contest, there are "feasts," events where contenders are offered new supplies, whatever they need, which are left at the Gauntlet. Is that what's happening now? Is Christine Everhart calling us to a feast?

"Tomorrow morning, there will be a feast at the Gauntlet. Packs containing something necessary for each contender will be left there. Be there at the rising of the sun to receive your gift."

Then there's silence again.

I stare up at the sky, pondering Christine's message. Every contender will be offered something. What do I need that I should have to fight for it? Then it hits me. Veers needs medicine or something similar to prevent Carnage from completely taking her over. She's been fighting it, but even though she's Kree, she can't hold out against a symbiote forever. She needs help.

There will be medicine for Veers at the Gauntlet tomorrow.

So I have to go, to save my ally, as she can't get the medicine for herself. And in my heart, I know I will go, willingly. I don't want Veers to die.

Walking to the edge of the bridge, I look around, wondering how I'm going to get to the Gauntlet. Am I in the same space? After a bit of turning around, I notice that there's a steep incline west of where I am, and I can just see the glint of the sun on the metal of the Gauntlet. I must be in the space on the other side of the drop off.

The strains of the anthem start up and Sharon Carter's face appears in the sky, under the "Avenge the Fallen" banner. So Sharon is the other contender whose cannon we heard earlier. When her face fades to ash, Cletus Kasady replaces her and then he, too, is gone.

I make my way down the stairs and head back into the room under the bridge. Veers is lying back on the cot, her eyes closed, breathing slightly labored. Stopping in the doorway, I stare at Veers, tilting my head.

She said she may love me, and I rushed out before answering. Now I have to address that, but I'm not sure how. So I just stand, looking at her, trying to find the right words to mend this situation. Truth or lie, I'm not sure what to say.

The Kree's eyes flicker open and she sees me standing by the door, just looking at her. She attempts to lift herself up into a sitting position but a low moan issues out of her mouth and my feet respond before my mind does, carrying me over to her side and keeping her from rising and further exerting herself. "Just rest," I tell her, the words escaping my lips before I authorize them.

Veers narrows her eyes at me, but she can't hide the ghost of pain lurking in her eyes. I walked out on her declaration of love and I'm not sure how that makes me look to her now. Or to the audience, for that matter. I wonder what Hela is thinking, if she wants this romance. I know she wanted the alliance.

"What?" Veers asks, her eyes searching mine.

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "I didn't mean to leave like that. But I needed to think. Truth be told, I believe I might have feelings for you myself." While I say this, I brush a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture feeling strange and foreign to me. I remember wanting to do this to Gamora, back on the mountain before the Reaping, but I hadn't, knowing if I touched her, she'd knock me to the ground. Veers doesn't attack me, though, when I gently move the strand away from her face.

I know for sure that I admire Veers. She stood up, out of the wreckage, against the odds. But I don't know if I love her. I don't believe I do. But Hela wanted this, my mentor advised me to take this course of action. I know this, because our alliance, this late in the Contest, with only seven contenders left, including us, is unprecedented. We know only one can win, can survive, and yet here we are, allies.

That's why I think the romance was a part of Hela's plan. She heard Veers' interview, with Luis' suggestion of love, and her mind must have concocted some scheme from there. And she was friends with Ronan, the Kree mentor. Perhaps they drew up this plan together.

And then I remember that Hela knew Veers. Veers had said they'd worked a mission together, but hadn't told me any of the details. Hela wanted this romance to happen, she must think I have a better chance of surviving with Veers on my side, but still, only one of us can win.

At least, that's the rule.

Veers is still studying me, as if trying to ascertain if I'm telling the truth. "Are you lying?" she asks me softly.

I don't hesitate. "I never lie to people I care about," I whisper, wishing with all of my heart that my statement was actually true. But it's not, I know it, and I feel a pain in my chest.

Do you want to go home? This can bring you home and earn Father's respect. I can make him proud, I can make Asgard proud. It doesn't matter than Asgard and Hala don't get along. I need to do something to prove to Odin I am worthy, and this is it.

"You heard the announcement," Veers states, and I nod.

"Yes, and I will go to the Gauntlet to get our packs."

Veers narrows her eyes. "The other five will be there."

I nod again, mentally counting them off in my head. Natasha, Clint, Okoye, Pietro, and Wong. "I'll be fine. I have my magic."

"I should go with you," she offers, and I shake my head.

"No. You're injured. Medicine will be there for you, and then once you're healed, together we will finish off the rest of the contenders." I smile at her, and she smiles back, but the quick glint in her eyes alerts me that she caught the underlying message of my words.

Together.

There's a clink from behind me and I spin, a dagger appearing in my hand, as a canister falls through a small electric blue portal onto the floor. I make the dagger vanish and stride across to the container, lifting it up and bringing it over to the cot.

"Who's it for?" Veers asks, tugging the note off the top of the canister. Her brow furrows, then she hands it to me.

For Loki and Vers. Enjoy your meal together. – Hela and Ronan.

For a moment, I'm confused, as I always think of the Kree contender as Veers. Then I recall that her name is spelled with only one "e," but pronounced like there's two. I always think of it like there's two of the vowel.

So Hela and Ronan do approve of the romance.

I tuck the note into my belt as I open the canister, the smell of shawarma filling the air. I have no idea what's in the food, but I know my brother enjoys this dish greatly and I can't help but grin a little at the idea of Thor selecting the meal for us.

There's no other note inside. I carefully lift out the food and separate it into two piles, one for me, one for Veers. I help her sit up, and then the both of us dig in.

The shawarma is hot and delicious, two qualities I've been missing in my food lately. Neither of us speak until we've eaten all of it, and then I aid Veers in laying back down again before cleaning up the crumbs.

"Go to sleep," I tell Veers. "I'll bar the door so there's no need to worry about the watch."

"Wake me before you go, all right?" Veers asks me.

"All right," I agree, seeing no harm in it. Veers closes her eyes and I run over my plan for the early morning in my head before deciding to get some sleep.

I'm only asleep for a couple hours, and it's dreamless. For that, I am thankful, and I ensure I have both my spear and daggers at the ready before gently shaking the Kree warrior awake.

Veers comes right to, her eyes snapping open. She looks worse, her shoulder an ugly shade of red, and her skin seems to have a pale crimson shade running underneath her normal hue. "Hmm?" she murmurs, her muscles tensing. "Loki?"

"I'm going," I tell her, concealing my worry. "I'll be back with your medicine."

For a moment, she just regards me, lifting her hand to touch my cheek. Her skin is warm, too warm, and I instantly know I have to get that medicine today or she will succumb. And I don't want to fight another Carnage. "Come back," she tells me, and I nod. There's nothing I want more than to survive this. "Whatever it takes," she adds.

When I leave the bridge, I make sure the door is securely shut behind me and then start the trek in the direction of the Gauntlet. It's dark out and I can barely see, but I manage to make my way all right. The way is mostly open but as I approach the steep incline, trees spring up, their skeletal branches reaching out for me.

Everything always looks eerie at night. Seldom did I venture beyond the palace gardens after dark, especially alone. But there had been one time, back when we were children, that Thor, Gamora, Nebula, and I had all made a pact to head out to the forest of Asgard in the dark. We had barely made it within the boundaries of the trees before our bravado had melted away into nothing and we were no longer fearsome warriors on an adventure, but children afraid of the dark.

Carefully making my way through the trees, I keep my head on a swivel, constantly checking my surroundings for any sign of another contender. But I don't see anyone, only hearing the occasional sound of a small animal skittering through the undergrowth.

I climb up the incline, leaning forward as I take care to find sturdy places for my hands and feet in the dark. When the incline suddenly stops, leaving me with the hard-packed cliff face, I am stymied for a moment before I take my spear out, have it expand, and prepare to launch myself up.

After making myself invisible, I slam the butt of my spear into the ground, summoning my magic at the same time and propelling myself up over the edge of the drop-off. I hit the damp grass and roll, my spear shrinking back down to its carrying canister. Drawing myself into a defensive position, I scan my surroundings, but no one comes out to attack me. My disguise worked.

I slink off toward the forest, seeing the empty podiums surrounding the Gauntlet where the feast will be presented on the sun's rising. Twenty-four podiums for twenty-four contenders, and only seven of us are left. I think of Hela, shooting down all her opponents simultaneously, and when her question rises to my mind, I have the answer.

What are you the god of again?

I am the god of mischief.

I feel safer as soon as I enter the protective scrim of the forest. Taking up a position by the thick trunk of a tree, I settle down, maintaining my illusion of invisibility, and wait.

Natasha, Clint, Okoye, Pietro, Wong. Natasha, Clint, Okoye, Pietro, Wong. Natasha, Clint, Okoye, Pietro, Wong.

The names of the other five contenders play over and over again in my mind as I prepare myself to face them. Natasha fights with martial arts, Clint prefers his bow, Pietro is quicker than the wind, Okoye is gifted with a spear, and Wong has magic, being a DimJump. I haven't seen him since we all stood on the podiums at the opening of the Contest, but I know he has magic.

And I? I have my magic, my illusions, and my spear and daggers. I don't underestimate myself in the coming fight. I just have to make sure I don't underestimate my opponents.

I have to get this medicine for Veers.

Slowly, the horizon lightens from the inky blackness of night and I watch for the earliest rays of the rising sun. As I see the edge of the sun creep up in the east, I stand, keeping my eyes on the mouth of the Gauntlet.

I know all the other contenders are waiting in the forest somewhere, also watching. All of us will be trying to reach the feast and grab our packs without being killed, possibly taking out another contender while we're at it.

Natasha, Clint, Okoye, Pietro, and Wong. And me, Loki.

Then, as the sun is rising and beginning to flood the field with soft, golden, early morning light, a table slides out from within the Gauntlet, clicking into place at the mouth of the bulky structure. Six packs sit there, each labeled with the number of the contender it belongs to.

1, 2, 5, 7, and the last one is labeled 8+12.

I frown. The pack for Veers has both her eight and my twelve on it, connected with a plus sign. I feel as if it is only emphasizing what I told Veers last night, and what Ronan and Hela wrote on their note.

We are together.