The several months leading up to the Infinity Endeavor Reaping are filled with rigid training measures. Odin allows Hela to set up a training hall in the throne room and she puts Veers and I through a grueling regimen. Thor and Valkyrie are also subjected to similar training, Thor reveling in the chance to strut his skills once more. The Black Order's destruction of the training arena has prevented him from sparring with Fandral and Volstagg and I can tell he enjoys the chance to practice on Veers and I.

Veers and my brother thrive on the dueling practices. I haven't seen the Kree warrior so alive since our own alliance in the arena. She and Thor fight every day without fail. They are fairly evenly matched and although Thor will gripe to me about her strong abilities, I can tell he enjoys it.

Valkyrie also joins in the training, and seeing her in action is oddly inspiring. She doesn't duel that often, but when she does, it's with Hela or with me.

When Valkyrie duels with me, it's intense, double knives for weapons. Usually, we're evenly matched, but occasionally I can get the drop on her. On the other hand, when she fights with Hela, it's a whole other level of mastery.

I have never seen Hela fight before. She never even had to leave her podium to kill her twenty-three opponents in her Contest. So when she steps lazily into the center of the throne room the first time, between the pillars, and extends her arms out and down, flicking her wrists and summoning twin necroswords out of thin air, I know I'm in for a treat.

Until she selects me to duel.

"Loki, step forward."

I start as all eyes flick to me. "I beg your pardon?" I stammer, unsure I've heard correctly.

Hela lifts an eyebrow. "Are you deaf? Loki, step forward and fight me."

I glance at Thor, Valkyrie, and Veers, who all just look back at me. "Well?" Thor says. "Our sister asked you to step forward."

Shooting a glare at him, I summon my daggers and move forward, standing across from Hela in the center of the throne room. Hela gives me a lazy, deadly smile, like she's a snake and I'm the unfortunate mouse chosen to be its meal today. "Are you ready, brother?"

"I'm always ready," I reply smoothly, assuming a defensive stance. "Are you?"

In answer, Hela charges forward.

Unlike Thor, our sister's charge is smooth and elegant, a swift run straight at me, whipping her swords up to cross in front of her. When her necroswords cross with mine, I feel the shock reverberate through my arms, my entire body jarred. She then begins a barrage of blows, driving me back across the throne room. I'm barely able to defend myself.

"What are you the god of again?" she taunts, when she has me up against the wall, her blades crossed over my neck, only held back from touching my skin by my own daggers. The pressure of the necroswords on my knives is intense and it takes all my concentration to hold them back, so I can't even reply. I can't be sure Hela won't kill me if I give in. I can't be sure about anything when it comes to Hela.

"I thought so," she smirks at my silence, then steps back, drawing her blades away. I stagger forward, falling to one knee, before quickly rising again and preparing for another attack.

Hela just gestures dismissively and calls on Veers. I must say I get some pleasure on watching her administer a similar beating to my district partner, who finds that her usual method of fighting does nothing against the literal goddess of death. Before long, Hela has Veers pinned on the flagstones, her knee pressed into her chest and both blades angled at her throat.

That is the only time Hela fights against either of us, and she never deigns to duel Thor at all. Valkyrie is the only one she duels more than once, and it's always a different kind of fighting. I can't explain it, but Valkyrie throws herself into it like she's about to die and Hela acts like she could completely annihilate her but just...doesn't.

Sometimes, Gamora joins the training sessions. She starts by watching from across the chamber, and then eventually begins offering tips and various techniques. Veers always gets tense whenever the daughter of Thanos is around, and gets annoyed whenever Gamora offers advice. And I know that when Gamora gives Veers advice, it is not to help but to hinder.

But seeing Gamora in this setting, watching her but never able to duel with her, cuts me in a way nothing else does. We don't talk much and she doesn't acknowledge my confession of love to her that night I found out about the Infinity Endeavor. I almost wish I'd never said it, because it feels like the words are hanging in thin air, waiting to realize their time is up and they are actually dead, like flowers in a vase.

At night, after training, Hela, Valkyrie, and Thor give Veers and I lectures on the champions we might be facing. We go in order, starting with Wakanda and working through Vanaheim. Jane sent us all the old recordings of the previous thirty-five Contests so we can study their experiences and styles.

I've already seen Thor's and Hela's Contests many times, and although I've never seen Valkyrie's, there really doesn't seem to be a point. Hela agrees with that and Valkyrie doesn't say anything, although she looks about to argue with my sister.

We start with Zuri's Contest, of District 1. He's not much of a warrior, but he survived by attaching himself to one of the powerful contenders and waiting until he eliminated almost everyone else. Then he stabbed him in the back and went on to win the Contest for himself. T'Challa wins his by sheer fighting ability, and Shuri uses technology to get the edge.

For the HYDRA district, Darren Cross or the Yellow Jacket is their first champion, who comes off kind of crazy. He uses knockoff Pym tech to shrink himself to a smaller size. Bucky Barnes wins by brutally killing most everyone else, Bruce Banner shifts into the Hulk to smash his opponents, and Ava Starr has strange phasing powers that make it impossible to pin her down or kill her.

SHIELD's champions comprise Hank Pym, the Ant-Man, Sam Wilson or the Falcon, Scott Lang or the other Ant-Man, Steve Rogers or Captain America, and Hope Van Dyne, or the Wasp. Watching this group of champions makes me think of Cassie and my chest tightens. I can't help but remember when Scott thanked me after the Contest, for staying with Cassie.

District 4 is up next and all I can think about is Peter Parker and the ashes he turned into as he died. Peggy Carter is the first champion, followed by James Rhodes or the War Machine, Tony Stark, and Pepper Potts. District 5, the Sanctum Sanctorum, shows us Kaecilius, Karl Mordo, and Stephen Strange. District 6, Jotunheim, sponsors Grundroth and a female contender whose Contest is so boring I can't even be bothered to remember her name.

Then District 7, Pietro Maximoff's home, whose only champions are Helmut Zemo and Wanda Maximoff. District 8 has Ronan, Korath the Pursuer, and Minn-Erva, and watching all three of their Contests makes Veers tense. But she provides helpful commentary, having seen these recaps several times before and personally knowing two of the three champions.

Then we have District 9, with Yondu Udonta and Peter Quill, and District 10 with Annie Weying and Eddie Brock. District 11 is so unmemorable that again, I can't remember the champions' names.

Going over these recaps, Hela, Thor, and Valkyrie quiz us on every single champion and their strengths, weaknesses, and preferred fighting styles until we've memorized everything possible. Then we train as if we're fighting each and every single one of them, so nothing can surprise us in the arena.

Finally, the day of the Reaping approaches. It comes with a sense of finality, of resigned acceptance, which I feel from everyone on Asgard. They know this is because of us, all because of us, and that it is extremely unlikely Veers or I will return. Certainly not both of us.

Hela allows us the day off from training, the day before the Reaping. "Do what you have to do," is all she says, before dismissing us.

I end up wandering the mountainside, throwing rocks into the lake and watching the ripples expand and missing Gamora. I miss her so much it hurts.

"Hey."

I turn just in time to see the blade slashing toward my head. Belatedly, I summon a dagger and just barely manage to deflect it to the side, twisting away. Gamora's second blade flashes up and just like that, we're dueling.

Exhilaration floods my body as her swords cross with my daggers, stepping and whirling across the mountainside. It's a dance, of longing, of love, of everything we'll ever feel but can't ever have. But it's also like nothing ever happened, like nothing changed, like it's a normal day and I never went to the Contest and screwed everything up.

It's both, which is odd, since both sides of us shattered in that brief, fleeting moment before I left Asgard.

I lunge at Gamora, catching both her blades on my daggers and shoving them out. I crash into her, sending her falling and we roll down the mountainside, deadly blades intercutting with the gleam of the silver implants above her eyes. All I see is her and all I want to see is her.

As the mountainside levels out, near the shore of the lake, we stop rolling and I end up on top, straddling her abdomen, knees pressed against her arms and holding them down. My daggers are at her throat and I'm panting, grinning down at her.

"I win," I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. Gamora's also catching her breath, but I can see a slight smile on her lips and it's almost like old times.

"So you did," she replies. "You need to promise me something."

I recoil slightly, for I know what she's going to say. "If I do it, will you snub me again? Like before?"

Gamora glowers at me and twists suddenly, unseating me. I roll away and come up, meeting her angry eyes. We both glare at the other, then shift and end up sitting beside each other, weapons relaxed at our sides. This feels so much like old times it hurts.

"I didn't expect you to come back with her," she says softly, hesitantly. "All my life, I've had you. Then you were gone. It was worse than if you died – it was like you were taunting me."

I'm startled by this admission. Gamora has never spoken so honestly to me before, never in our long years of friendship.

"It was like you'd replaced me."

"I wanted you," I burst out. "Gamora, it's just...I wanted you so badly, I did anything to win, to get back."

"You didn't have to save her, though," Gamora points out. "You didn't have to save her, at the end. You could have won alone."

I furrow my brow. Yes, I could have, I could have betrayed our pact and slit her throat then and there, illusions be damned. I could have let her die, after the symbiote infected her. I could have not aided her in her fight against Mantis and Drax to begin with, although I'm not sure if that would have done much toward finishing her off.

But I hadn't done any of that.

Well, getting the medicine to save her from Carnage was a necessity, for if she had succumbed to the symbiote, I would have had to fight it all over again. And afterwards, at the finale, I had to save Veers. It was the only way to prove to Odin that I, like Thor, was a worthy son. I may not have won in a bloodbath, but I still won in an unprecedented fashion. I set an example. Thor had only been copying our sister, just less efficiently.

And I really hadn't wanted to kill Veers.

I've been pondering Gamora's point for months at this point, and it's only as she says it to me that I realize I couldn't have done it. I wouldn't have been able to kill Veers, for some reason, and I don't know why. It has nothing to do with love, that I know for sure. My feelings for Gamora and the knowledge that I will most likely die within several days are the only things of certainty in my life, and even the surety of those vary from moment to moment.

"But I didn't," I whisper.

"I know," Gamora says sadly. "And now he's sending you back." She glances over at me. "Will you swear to me to return?"

"Thanos wants me dead," I remind her, ever the pessimist.

"No, he wants balance. As long as you play by the rules and win within those rules, he will let you live. He'll have to." Gamora turns completely to face me, her hand cupped around my neck to keep me looking at her. I feel her fingers slide into my black hair and a shiver runs down my spine. Her presence is intoxicating, more so than any liquor I've ever had. "Just come back to me, Loki. Swear to me you'll come back."

There is only one thing to say, even though I know that even if I somehow survive, Thanos will never in a million years let me anywhere near his daughter. "Whatever it takes," I tell her softly. "You know that."

Gamora leans forward, placing her other hand on my neck and softly kisses me. I wrap my arms around her and return the kiss, wanting nothing more than this, than her. When we eventually break apart, all I want to do is kiss her again. I don't want to leave, for then I'll have to acknowledge that I will never be able to keep my vow, for Thanos will not let me leave that arena.

And I know I can't lie to her.

"I don't think the odds will be in my favor," I whisper, leaning my forehead against hers. "I don't think –"

She stops my words with another kiss.

We spend the rest of the day lying in the grass by the shore of the lake, Gamora curled into my side in the circumference of my arms. We stare at the sky and talk of memories, for the past is all we have. There is no future and both of us know it. But for a moment, we've mastered the illusion that is us and I don't ever want to let it go.

Finally, Gamora props herself up, looking down at me as she places one hand on my chest. Her red-tinted black hair falls over her shoulder, dusting my leather tunic. "I refuse," she says. "I refuse to let this be one of your magic tricks."

I lift a hand and touch her face, running my fingers along the silver implants on impulse. For a moment, she allows the caress, and then catches my hand in hers. But she doesn't break it; she simply entwines her fingers in mine, like a vine in a trellis. "You don't know how long I've waited to do that."

"Did you hear me?" Gamora asks. "This won't be an illusion, Loki. I won't let it."

I prop myself up on my elbow, turning to face her. We're so close, I could kiss her again. "You think I want it to fade?" I challenge. "You think I want to see this all shimmer and die? No. All I want is you. But I can't have you, whether I win or lose, I can't have you. Your father will never allow it, never allow us. We always knew that, I think. I just...I hate believing it."

Gamora scowls. "So what? Were you lying, then? When you...that night?"

"I don't lie to you," I shoot back. This is the first time we've talked about the night the Infinity Endeavor was announced. "I...I meant it. But that doesn't mean it's not an illusion, something from an alternate timeline. I...you know it as well as I. The two of us? We were not meant to love. Anyone."

Gamora stares at me, her gaze sorrowful and angry, but I know she knows I'm right. There is no timeline that will accept us, no reality that will allow us. There never has been; that moment before the Contest, that feels oh, so long ago, was a stolen, illegal moment that we can search for but never find. It was not ours to begin with – we just so desperately wanted it to be.

"Whatever it takes will never be enough," I add brokenly. "I already paid the price, and I can't pay again. I know that, although I don't accept it. It's just...some unspoken thing."

"I can't let this be an illusion," Gamora whispers. "I've already lost everything else, I can't lose you, too."

"You've already lost me," I tell her, my voice low and pained. "We never had each other. We just thought we did."

We stare at each other for a long moment, her angry, me just sad. I'm right, I know it. And she knows I'm right, she just won't accept it.

"I'd ask you to run," Gamora says softly. "But there's nowhere to go." She lets go of my hand and I feel suddenly adrift. She's so close to me, so close, and yet I can't have her, never can. "All right, then. We better go."

We rise and walk over the bridge back into the city in silence, and there we split, with nary a goodbye or any feeling of resolution to the mess that is us. I head toward the palace, my heart sinking in my chest. My vows to master the illusion that was my love for Gamora feel empty and silly now. Mere child's fantasies that will never come true. I hate that, hate that so much.

But what else is there to do? I already paid the price, and the price was her.