The air around them was thick with tension, the room spinning as Y/N's mind raced.

Her heart hammered in her chest, and the weight of everything she'd just seen pressed down on her like a suffocating force.

Loki's voice cut through her panic, his tone calm but insistent. "Y/N," he said, stepping closer, his hands gently resting on her shoulders.

Once again, his true form began to force its way through, icy blue seeping across his skin in defiance of his control.

No matter how much he tried to hold onto his Asgardian guise, it was pressed back, revealing the frost giant within.

Loki clenched his jaw and forced himself to ignore it, hoping—praying—she wouldn't notice.

"Look at me," he urged, his voice softer now, steady despite the storm inside him. "You're not alone in this."

Even though Loki was clearly trying to pretend it wasn't there, Y/N saw the tightness in his jaw, the effort it took to act as though nothing was happening.

Y/N's breath caught as a flicker of blue at the edge of her vision sharpened into focus. Her gaze snapped to his hands. The icy hue creeping across Loki's skin was impossible to ignore, a stark, undeniable reminder of the power radiating between them.

Her thoughts spiraled, each realization more terrifying than the last. If her power could strip away Loki's Asgardian guise—Odin's power—then what hope did she have of stopping herself if things spiraled out of control? If even Odin's magic couldn't stand against her, how could anyone, even she, contain what lurked within?

Her chest heaved, panic prickling beneath her skin as fire sparked at her fingertips and frost crept toward her heart. "How... how do I control this?" she murmured, her voice barely audible, trembling under the weight of her own question.

Loki's grip remained firm, unwavering despite the turmoil within. "Control starts with understanding," he said, his voice steady, though the faintest crack threatened to betray him.

Y/N staggered back, her breath hitching as she pressed against the cold, empty wall.

The fire flickering at her fingertips flared to life once more, while the frost creeping from her chest pulsed in time with her ragged breaths, swelling and receding.

The storm within her raged, building with every passing moment, threatening to consume her entirely.

Loki moved closer, his gaze intense. "Focus, Y/N. Why did you respond to me through my vision? Why do you have the power of fire and frost if you're not the balance? These powers... they chose you for a reason."

He took another step, his sharp gaze locking onto hers. "You're terrified, I know. But fear won't stop what's already begun. You have to face it. We have to face it."

"I never asked for this," she whispered, her voice frayed with panic, her gaze darting wildly as though searching for an escape. "I don't want to be... her."

Loki closed the distance, his sharp gaze fixed on her trembling form. His hand lifted instinctively as she turned away, reaching to catch her arm, but he stopped himself.

"It's a prophecy," he said, his voice even but strained, the weight of his own uncertainty bleeding through. "Not a certainty."

Her silver eyes met his, filled with fear and defiance. "Then why," she murmured, her voice trembling as the frost crept forward again,

"does it feel like I already am?"

*

Before Loki could answer, the sound of soft footsteps echoed through the chamber.

Both Y/N and Loki turned sharply, their defenses rising, but it was Frigga who stepped into the room.

Frigga, the Aesir goddess of foresight, wisdom, and the protector of family, stood with an air of quiet authority, her serene presence cutting through the tension in the room.

Her long, silver-blonde hair was intricately braided, with strands woven into delicate patterns that reflected her regal status.

She wore a flowing gown of fine wool, embroidered with gold thread, the colors of her garments shifting between pale blues and soft whites.

Her sharp, clear blue eyes, filled with ancient wisdom, lingered on the murals with a calm yet knowing gaze, as if she could read the very future they depicted.

When she spoke, her voice carried the calm weight of timeless wisdom. "I wondered how long it would take for you two to find this place."

Y/N hesitated, suddenly feeling small in the presence of the queenly goddess. She had heard tales of Frigga, but none had prepared her for the commanding grace that radiated from the queen of Asgard. Still, she held her ground, meeting Frigga's gaze with steady resolve.

Summoning her courage, she asked, "You knew about this?"

Frigga's gaze shifted to Y/N, soft yet piercing, as though she saw through her defiance with a mix of recognition and understanding.

There was a flicker in Y/N's silver eyes, something that reminded Frigga of Odin's own willfulness—or perhaps Thor's brashness—but unrefined, like something still in the process of shaping.

But when her eyes fell on the necklace Y/N wore, her expression subtly changed. She watched it for a moment, her face briefly shadowed with calculated worry, as though something important had just clicked into place.

Then, in an instant, her features masked the concern, and she resumed her composed demeanor.

Y/N, absorbed in her thoughts, missed the fleeting shift in Frigga's expression.

But Loki, ever observant, noticed it immediately. His gaze flicked between Frigga and the necklace, the brief moment of worry hanging in the air. He chose not to address it then, sensing that now was not the time.

Frigga spoke again, her voice warm, yet carrying a subtle edge. "Of course. The Room of Prophecy has existed since the dawn of the realms. It isn't hidden—merely forgotten by those too fearful to remember."

She stepped closer to the mural of the tree, her fingers grazing the edge of its intricate carvings. "But it seems you've uncovered the truth Odin has long sought to bury."

Loki's posture stiffened beside Y/N, his arms crossing tightly over his chest as his sharp gaze flicked to Frigga. "And what truth might that be, Mother?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with underlying skepticism, as if trying to mask the emotional weight behind his words.

Frigga turned her head slightly, her gaze softening as she looked at Loki. "The truth, my son, is written in fire and frost. The balance the Allfather fears. The bridge that can unite—or destroy."

Her eyes then traveled to the figure at the base of the tree, her expression unreadable. "That the balance of the realms was never tied to Odin's blood."

Y/N's brow furrowed, her voice cautious but edged with curiosity. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Frigga turned, her piercing gaze settling once more on Loki. Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "It's tied to you,...

Loki."

*

Silence fell over the room.

Frigga stepped closer to Loki, her gaze unwavering yet tinged with an unexpected softness. "You are the bridge between the realms," she said, her voice calm but weighted with certainty.

Y/N's wings flared, the metallic feathers catching the light as tension rippled through her. Her breath hitched, and her voice cut through the charged silence, sharp with disbelief.

"Wait—what? Loki?" she demanded, her words coming fast, unsteady. "Isn't Loki a Frost Giant? How can he have the power of fire?"

Frigga stepped closer, her gaze steady, her tone calm but heavy with the weight of ancient truths. "Loki is a child of both realms," she began, her voice soft yet unwavering. "His mother, Laufey, was more than the queen of the Frost Giants—she was the heart and the bridge between fire and frost, the balance that once united Asgard and Jotunheim. Loki, her son, inherited that balance. He is the living embodiment of the harmony that was lost."

She paused, her expression clouding with something unspoken. "When Odin found Loki as a child, he saw only a Frost Giant—an abandoned prince of a fallen realm. He never saw the power hidden deep within Loki's heart. And when he decided to change him—to alter his appearance and make him appear Asgardian, to claim him as one of our own—he unknowingly gave Loki a fragment of his own power. The fire that now burns within him."

Her gaze grew distant, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Odin has since lost his power of fire. He has searched for it everywhere, unaware of the truth. He does not know that Loki bears it now, hidden in plain sight. A power he never meant to give away."

Y/N's wings twitched again, her voice still trembling with confusion. "But if that's true... why do I feel fire and ice within me?"

Frigga's gaze softened, but there was an edge of sorrow in her eyes. "The power of frost and fire was never meant to be yours, child," she said gently. "It was always Loki's."

As she spoke, her eyes once again drifted to Y/N's necklace, and for the second time, her expression faltered. It was barely perceptible, but Loki caught it once more.

Loki stepped forward, his tone firm but measured. "What do you mean by that?"

Frigga took a deep breath, her eyes turning toward the mural. Her voice was steady, though laden with sorrow. "Laufey knew she couldn't evade Odin forever. She knew he would find her, take you, and mold you into the bridge between the realms—a tool to maintain his rule."

Loki's hands curled into fists, his voice low and taut with rage. "You're telling me Odin didn't just take me... he killed her." His emerald eyes burned with fury, the weight of the realization crashing over him.

Frigga held his gaze, her silence confirming the unspoken. "She gave her life to protect you for as long as she could."

Y/N's breath caught, the air around her growing heavy with tension.

Frigga turned to her now, her tone softening, though her words carried a heavy burden. "So Laufey sought out your mother, Yrsa—a Dísir—for her blessing. Laufey was desperate, knowing the lengths Odin would go to. Yrsa agreed to help but warned Laufey of the consequences."

Y/N's wings twitched, their movements betraying her unease. "What... consequences?" she asked, her voice trembling, edged with fear.

Frigga hesitated, then exhaled deeply, her tone turning grave. "Yrsa warned Laufey that accepting the blessing would bind her child's fate to Laufey's son forever."

Loki frowned, his brow furrowing. "Is that a bad thing?"

Frigga's gaze softened, but the weight of her words remained. "Yrsa's child," she said quietly, "would be the harbinger of doom."

Y/N staggered back, shaking her head as though trying to wake from a nightmare. Her voice was a whisper, trembling with disbelief. "So... it is true. I am Ragnarok."

Loki's jaw tightened, his voice sharp and unyielding as he broke the silence. "What did she mean by... tied?"

Frigga stepped back, letting the weight of the moment hang in the air. Her silence forced them to connect the pieces themselves.

Y/N's mind churned, the puzzle snapping together with terrifying clarity. She broke the silence, her voice trembling but determined. "The vision... it was meant for you, wasn't it? But I saw it too. We both did."

Loki's face tightened, bitterness seeping into his voice. "The power—frost and flame—was meant to be mine. But Laufey's gift never came to me. When you took the leaf..." He faltered, the weight of the truth hitting him like a physical blow. "You took... what was rightfully mine."

Y/N's breath quickened as the truth unraveled. "That's why my powers are so overwhelming... I don't just have my own, but yours too."

Her eyes widened as the full weight of the realization hit her. "But... if frost and flame are your powers..." Her gaze shifted to the mural, a deep dread pooling in her chest. "Then what is mine?"

Loki's expression darkened as the gravity of the situation hit him. "If my powers are balance," he said slowly, his voice laced with an unsettling finality, "then your power must be..." He trailed off, the words hanging in the air, unspoken.

Y/N's chest tightened, her voice trembling as she completed his thought, her words barely a whisper. "Destruction."

Y/N looked back to the mural, the weight of its message pressing down on her.

The swirling chaos between the two figures seemed to mirror the turmoil in her chest, each stroke of color a stark reminder of their shared fate. The reality crept into her mind, heavy and unrelenting.

Her voice, bitter and laced with resignation, cut through the silence. "We were never meant to be together, Loki. Balance and destruction... they were never meant for one another."

Loki's jaw tightened, the words striking a nerve. "Don't," he said quietly, his tone edged with warning.

But Y/N pressed on, her gaze unwavering despite the sorrow pooling in her eyes. "We were born rivals," she continued, her voice trembling. "Born to destroy the other."

She glanced back at the mural, the figures locked in eternal conflict. "There can only be one—either balance or destruction," she said, the finality of her words a weight neither could ignore.

Her breath hitched as her words hung in the air, sharp and final. Her silver eyes met his, steady and unflinching.

"And the other... has to be destroyed."