Loki landed in a partial crouch, one hand on the cold stone floor and his legs bent beneath him, ready to spring into action. As he slowly rose, he realized that he no longer had his shield. He had lost it sometime during his journey through the worlds, most likely when that portal had sucked him into Muspelheim.

He was standing at the end of a long corridor. The floor beneath him was tiled with stone, and thick wooden beams made up the walls, rising to the dark ceiling. The lighting was dim where he stood, although it brightened a little at the other end of the corridor. There, the shadows danced along the walls in the flickering light from two torches propped in wall sconces.

Lightning flashed, and Loki's eyes widened as the dark silhouette of a figure emerged from the lightning bolt. The figure was tall, but not too tall – so a small giant, if that was even his species. He had black hair from what Loki could tell, and eyes that gleamed in the light.

Green eyes.

As he was wondering whether he should walk down the corridor or not, the figure held out a hand and beckoned to him. "Come here, Loki."

It was the voice that had spoken to him in Muspelheim, Niflheim, and Ginnungagap.

Loki hesitated. As he was debating whether or not he should comply with the order, the corridor rippled beneath his feet and suddenly, the long, empty passage was gone. He was now standing right in front of the figure.

The figure stepped forward, so Loki could make out his features. His hair was definitely dark, and his green eyes had mischief written all over them. He was a frost giant, by the looks of it. His features had that strong, fierce look about them, and his skin was the typical pale of that race.

"Who are you?" Loki asked impetuously, suddenly and inexplicably afraid of there being any silence between him and this strange jotun.

The jotun grinned. Spreading his hands out, he said, "I am everyone, Loki."

Loki jumped as the jotun shifted, growing to the height of fifty feet, his features transforming into Skrymir's. Before Loki had time to register what had just happened, "Skrymir" shifted again, but this time into the seven foot Ragnarr. Then he returned to his first form and smiled again at Loki.

"Who are you really?" Loki demanded, moving from foot to foot nervously.

"You don't know me?" the jotun asked. "I suppose that's really not that surprising. You never had any reason to know me."

Loki wrinkled his brow as the jotun stepped towards him, eyes gleaming. "Loki, I am your father.

"I am Farbauti."

Loki froze. This...this was his father? He couldn't believe it. No, he just couldn't believe it. He couldn't. There was no way. There was simply no way.

Farbauti cocked his head, studying Loki inquisitively. "Don't believe me, I see. Boy, how else could I know exactly what your mother said to you about fire and ice?"

"That's not proof," Loki said quietly.

The jotun sighed and ran his fingers through his thick black hair. "What do you want, boy? How do you want me to prove it to you?" Striding towards Loki, Farbauti reached out to grab him. The trickster jumped back in shock.

"Relax, boy," Farbauti said, but his tone made it sound more authoritative than soothing. Eyes wide, Loki stood still as the jotun took his arm firmly. "I'm not going to hurt you. Not yet."

With that thinly veiled threat, Loki allowed Farbauti to yank him forward. He didn't have the strength to resist. He felt like he was ten years old again, asking his mother why he didn't know his father.

You're better off not knowing, baby.

At ten, he had felt like he was too old to be called "baby." Now, he would love to hear her voice call him that, once more.

"I know you asked about me," Farbauti hissed, his green eyes glowing intensely. "You asked your mother why you didn't have a father. Why you didn't know him. Why you didn't know me. You loved your mother. You hate the Aesir, for their rejection of you. Of your mother. Yet you can't stand the jotuns – can't stand me. Which is why you swore an oath against us, trying to leave your past behind. But it won't work, boy. Your past always catches up to you."

It wasn't his words that convinced Loki – indeed, he could have come up with many ways that Farbauti could have known those things – but it was his eyes. His burning green eyes showed Loki what he needed to know.

For they were a mirror of Loki's poison green eyes, containing the same fire, the same glitter, that displayed itself in his own orbs. Loki stared into Farbauti's eyes and was forced to accept the fact that the jotun standing before him was, in fact, his father.

Farbauti seemed to sense that Loki had accepted the truth, for he relaxed his grip on his son's bicep. Taking a step back, the jotun began to speak, eyes glowing fiercely.

"I've created a weapon," he declared, raising his hands up triumphantly. "A weapon composed of the core essences of fire and ice. This weapon will destroy the gods and the Nine Worlds all together."

"What?" Loki demanded. "A weapon?"

Farbauti's eyes gleamed proudly as he smiled. "Yes. A weapon."

"What kind of infernal weapon is this?" Loki asked, almost to himself.

"You."

Loki jumped, jerking his head up. Farbauti was staring at him intensely, which looked the way Loki felt when he regarded one of his brilliant schemes coming to completion.

"Me?" Loki echoed, a shiver running down his spine. "I'm your weapon?"

Farbauti cocked his head. "Yes, indeed. You, son of ice and fire. I am ice. Your mother was fire. You contain both of their essences within you. A volatile and unpredictable combination."

Loki stared at Farbauti incomprehensibly as the jotun continued. "You are the catalyst of Ragnarok, my son. You will tear down the Aesir from their mighty thrones and spring the vengeance of the jotuns upon them."

"Why?" Loki uttered hoarsely. "Why? Why me?"

Farbauti spread his hands out. "Why not? I've spent years watching you, waiting to see the power reveal itself in you. Although, on the whole, I'm been very disappointed in you, you have had your shining moments. Like your schemes behind the death of Baldor. Brilliant! That was your crowning moment, Loki. In that moment, I knew. You did possess the power I was hoping for. I had almost given up hope of it ever manifesting itself before you killed Baldor."

Loki tried to hold back a shudder but failed. "Why am I here?" he asked desperately, feeling more lost than he had when he had first been brought here.

"You are here so I could test you again," Farbauti told him. "You don't know how disappointed I was when you failed the trials the first time! It was a low point, I must admit. I had hoped you were stronger than you were. But never mind that; Baldor's death told me you deserved a second chance. So here you are!"

The only thing Loki could think of to say was, "What took you so long?"

"The stubborn Aesir," Farbauti answered. "I sprung disaster after disaster on them, trying to plan them so they would have to release you to fix them, but they were stubborn. They really didn't want to break your chains, and rightly so. Breaking your chains heralds Ragnarok, no matter who breaks them." With a smile, he added, "It's on the horizon now, boy."

"So," Loki said slowly. "You stole Brisingamen so the Aesir would free me so I could find it. Then you posed as Ragnarr to lead me to Utgard so you – as Skrymir – could tell me I was right all along. Then you crafted a maze to see if I could find the Yggdrasil portal?"

Farbauti's smile widened. "See, you're catching on."

"All the other giants?" Loki queried.

"Figments of your imagination," Farbauti said flatly. "Illusions. Nothing more."

"What's Skadi's place in all of this? And where is she?"

"She's back in the main hall of Utgard, frozen in place," Farbauti said. "And she doesn't have a place in all of this. She's like an extra piece."

"And...now what?" Loki questioned. "I'm here. I've passed your trials. What happens now?"

"Not yet," Farbauti warned. "You've just found me. You still have to pass the last trial."