Despite everything, I actually sleep through what's left of the night. But when I wake up, sunlight is streaming into the room and Gamora is gone. In the palm of my hand is her double-sided switchblade, the one with the rubies on the handle that she showed me all those years ago, on her first arriving in Asgard.

Slowly, I sit up, a headache gathering in the back of my head like a thunderstorm in the distance. I look at the knife, remembering how she used it to demonstrate Thanos' conception of the Balance. I had told her knives were better used for stabbing than for remaining perfect balanced.

Whatever it takes, she said to me last night. And in response, instead of saying I know like any sane person should, I had told her I loved her.

Had she responded? I don't remember, can't remember. Is that why she left? Was...no. Be rational, Loki. She must have left because she's the daughter of Thanos and has duties to attend to. Hopefully.

No. It was an illusion, all of it, and we both knew it. I so wanted it to be real, to be genuine and possible, but that defies the nature of an illusion – which is to deceive, to be fake. And again, I fell for it. Fell for her. And for one brief moment, I had her – but like all illusions, it faded right when I thought I held her forever.

Gamora promised she wouldn't leave me.

Slipping off the bed, cursing myself, I place the dagger in my belt and leave my room. I'm exhausted and drained and sentenced to die. The only worse combination than that is being exhausted and drained and sentenced to die and in love.

Which I am, so bingo.

My feet carry me to the living room, not sure where else to go. As I enter, the room is empty, and I cross to one of the sofas, sinking down onto it. Putting my head in my hands, I sit there for a while in contemplative silence, just mulling over the tumultuous events of last night, before someone enters.

And it's Veers.

I rise instantly on seeing who it is. She hadn't watched the announcement with us last night, but I know she knows. Someone would have told her, sometime between last night and now. The Kree walks right up to me, her expression a mix of sorrow and set determination.

"I'm sorry," she says, and hugs me.

Absently, I return her hug, wondering again whether she'd be a champion for Asgard or for Hala. I pull back, the question on my lips, but she seems to know what I'm going to ask.

"I talked to the Allfather. I will be a champion for Asgard in the Reaping." She amends her statement. "A possible champion. It'll be a choice between me, Valkyrie, and Hela, anyway."

So it will be me and one of them. By the look in Veers' eyes, I can tell she wants to go back in. Why, I don't know. But I know it will be a good chance it will be Veers and I both in the arena. How symbolic for Thanos will that be? The two responsible for upsetting the Balance sent back in to fix it by their blood.

We retreat to the sofa, sitting together in companionable silence. Neither wants to talk about the impending doom – and it's worse for me, because I don't have a choice. There's two thirds of a chance it won't be Veers.

Eventually, Thor and Odin enter the chamber and we both rise, as if we were waiting for them. In a way, I think I was.

Odin approaches me and Veers steps back, retreating away as if to grant us some privacy. I'm not sure what he's going to say when he places a hand on my shoulder. There's a long moment of silence, and then "Son, I'm sorry."

Then he's enfolding me in his arms and I'm hugging him back, like I never have before. I don't want to cry again, like I did last night, but then Odin's shoulders begin to shake and I can't cry now, because he is.

"I had hoped...I had thought you'd be safe. I'd thought you'd be safe."

"I know," I say, although I didn't. It makes sense, I suppose – after all, he is my father, or the closest thing I have to one. He's supposed to care about me. And now, I can see he does. Pity it took this long. "I know. Father...this isn't your fault."

Odin draws back, cupping his hand to my cheek. Tears glisten on his cheeks. "No, Loki."

I feel pain prick my eyes and I duck my head, not wanting to let the tears fall. "I will make you proud. I will prove myself a worthy son." It's the only thing I can think of to say.

"You have always made me proud," Odin whispers. "And you are far worthier than you know. You were the only one to stand up to Thanos when he tried to punish Heimdall. And for your heroic act, he is now punishing you."

Thor steps up, his gaze serious. "Brother, you swear on Mother you will...." He hesitates, his gaze flickering to Veers, then he resumes. "....do your utmost to beat this injustice."

My gaze also goes to Veers, who is solemnly watching us. Thor didn't want to tell me to win in front of her, for winning means she'll have to die. There will be no illusions to save us this time, no matter how lifelike they are. Thanos will only allow one champion this time; all else must perish.

If I want to win, if I do whatever it takes, it will mean whoever my partner is must die – either by my hand or someone else's. And I can already bet that partner will be Veers, for the symbolism to the universe will be too good for Thanos to miss up.

I can right this. I can fix this, make it up to Thanos. I can do it right this time, kill all my opponents in the arena, and right the Balance. Then Thanos will leave me and my family alone.

I grip my brother's forearm. "I will, Thor. That is a promise."

There's not much else to say. The four of us head to the dining chamber to eat, Valkyrie's chair empty. Odin sends a servant to her chambers, to bring her a plate of food. She's been so diligent recently, so sober and alert, that her relapse last night is a startling contrast to her whole recent "defender of the throne" mentality. I didn't think about it too hard last night, when I was swimming in misery, but now, in the light of day, her drunken state is jarring and pitiful, all at once.

"Allfather."

Gamora's crisp voice breaks the silence of the meal and shatters whatever composure I'd knitted together. My head jolts up, snapping around to the sound of her voice, and I fix startled eyes on her as she enters, her stride faltering as she sees us all at the table. Her eyes flit past me like she doesn't want to confront the memory of last night, and I feel the wound in my heart start to bleed again. She made a promise and she broke it. She said she'd never leave, yet she did. I find my hand going to her dagger in my belt, my fingers running over the rubies.

Gamora has a job to do, my mind reminds me, but I brush it away. It has nothing to do with a job, and everything to do with an illusion that can't be tamed.

Odin shifts to meet Gamora's opaque gaze. "Yes, daughter of Thanos?"

I notice the slightest flicker of her eyes, the only flinch she'd show to being addressed that way. Before, Odin always referred to her simply as Gamora, only using her status if formality dictated. But things have changed.

A lot of things had changed, after Frigga died.

"I am relaying a message from your daughter Hela, indicating her imminent arrival on Asgard," Gamora states. "Ebony Maw has already authorized her landing, and sent me to inform you of her coming."

Thor, Veers, and I all look to Odin after exchanging glances among ourselves. Normally, if Hela were to return to Asgard outside of an official capacity, she would need to request Odin's permission since her current status is as an exile allowed temporary, conditional returns. For all of my life, that meant Contest related activity. But for this arrival, she either hadn't bothered to request permission or Maw had taken it upon himself to approve her return without consulting Odin. That was a power beyond the Black Order's domain.

But I guess that, too, had changed.

"On what purpose is my daughter arriving?" Odin inquires, holding his tone steady, but I can tell from his frown that he also sees the discrepancy and doesn't like it. But what can he do? If Maw can murder Asgard's queen without fearing retribution, then approving Hela for a visit is a trivial piece of cake in comparison.

"It wasn't disclosed."

"Thank you, daughter of Thanos," Odin says stiffly, and turns determinedly away from her. Gamora hesitates, her eyes shifting back to me, but I don't say anything and so she pivots and leaves. An urge flares inside me, to run after her, but I quell it as I'm moments from rising from my chair. I don't know what's true and what's false anymore and Gamora lands squarely in the middle of all that uncertainty.

Silence drapes the dining chamber, all of us glancing at each other questioningly. Hela is on her way back to Asgard – the day after the Infinity Endeavor was announced. Coincidence? I think not.

A couple hours later, Hela arrives, striding into the palace with determination lacing her step. We're all congregated in the living chamber, minus Valkyrie, and she finds us there almost immediately.

"Well, well, so Loki's going back into the arena," is the first thing out of her mouth.

"Yes, we all know," I snap.

"And I'll be going back in, too," Veers says quietly. When we all look at her, she continues, "It only makes sense. Thanos is doing this because of Loki and I, right? So it only makes sense that it be me to go back in."

Hela just looks at her for a long moment. "Yes, you're right. That does make the most sense, Veers. You and Loki, after all, are the contenders who Thanos hates the most right now."

"Why have you returned?" Odin asks his eldest in a quiet tone.

Hela looks at him and her face is suddenly grave. "Due to the Infinity Endeavor involving former champions, Thanos has ordered all champions currently working away from their home districts return immediately, until the Endeavor Reaping. He's effectively detaining us, to prevent us from getting any ideas." Her lips twist into a brief, sardonic smile.

"What now?" Thor inquires.

Hela's eyes gleam, the solemn look she'd had a moment before vanishing. "We prepare."

/**/

Just a note - my semester has begun again and, like normally happens, updates are likely to get skewed, what with all my homework and thesis prep stuff. I'm going to try my hardest to keep on a every other week update schedule for this book, but I'm probably going to miss some days. Just a head's up on that.

I hope you enjoyed!

Skylar Wittenborn