Chapter 11: Chapter 10
The same place and time.
Yuriko followed her master and made a lot of effort to keep her face calm. Yes, despite the fact that he called himself the name of the Scandinavian God, despite her assurances that she believed him, it is one thing to say, and quite another to feel the truth of these words, to change your perception. Until that moment, she, with her soul, considered Loki just an eccentric mutant. Yes, powerful, but still a man, no matter what he himself claims about this. However, this did not prevent her from wanting to follow him, just as a samurai follows his master. She may not be strongly attached to the traditions of her ancestors, but there was something in them. Moreover, she could find no other way to repay him for his salvation and protection.
Yes, it was like this before, but now? Will she be able to relate to him in the old way? After all, he really turned out to be God. Those who lived a thousand years ago and will live thousands of years from today. How can she be useful to a creature from this place?
Hazel eyes involuntarily slipped from the hidden green cloak of the back of the creature walking in front ... and ran across the panorama that opened. They had just emerged from a huge spherical building, as if cast from a single piece of bronze, and now stood on a wide, more than a mile away bridge, as if made of glass stones, iridescent with all the colors of the rainbow. The colossal engineering structure stretched in a perfectly flat strip above the water of the huge bay, only occasionally leaning on rare supports rising from the water. And there, in the distance, where the bridge led, a real golden city shone. Tall, like natural skyscrapers, spiers of palaces and galleries, burning with gold and bronze in the morning sun. Inscrutable rectangular structures shimmering with silver and complex geometric patterns, just hanging in the air. Thirty-meter statues of warriors in armor and with huge weapons in their hands, clearly distinguishable even from such a distance. But even this was a trifle in comparison with what was visible to the eye, one had only to look back from the bridge - behind the round building.
Waterfall. A huge, where there is Niagara, wide and straight, as if cut off by someone, a precipice into which the sea lying under the bridge fell. Every second it sent down many hundreds and thousands of cubic meters of water, but it never became shallower for a moment, although it was completely incomprehensible where the water came from, because on the other side there was dry land. The abyss encircling the sea simply was, contrary to all the laws of physics, and if only this ... Above it from all sides the stars shone - completely unlike anything else, constellations of all colors, whole nebulae and as if even galaxies, as they are drawn in films trying to imagine them from the side. They were so close, so genuinely real, it was breathtaking. The sight was magnificent, mesmerizing, but completely unreal. The illusion that her master is master of? It is unlikely - it would be pointless, but it was impossible to believe that all this was real.
Her savior, meanwhile, waved his hand imperiously, and, mentally cursing herself, Yuriko only now noticed that a boat shining in gold, decorated with fine carvings and precious stones, as well as two perpendicularly arranged sheets of metal, stylized as wings on the sides closer, was descending from the sky. to the stern. And she floated through the air. The phantasmagorical nature of the picture was growing. The brunette with his hair slicked back, however, did not see anything strange in this and, waiting for the vehicle to hover over the rainbow surface of the bridge, gestured to two soldiers sitting inside in fancy horned helmets to get out. They, too, wore medieval armor and weapons, as did Loki and that tall black man with a wide two-handed sword who met them after being carried. And just like Loki's, their movements gave out tremendous combat experience.
"Please, board," her savior called them, politely, like some kind of doorman, standing on the side of the boat. And although in context it should have looked funny, here and now Loki's posture did not allow thoughts, even for a moment, to suspect a joke or childishness, which he was a master of in everyday life.
Yuriko, like the rest of Asgard's guests, silently followed the offer. The floor underfoot did not even sway when entering a hovering vehicle, and now, after a few seconds, they are already gaining height.
" Do I really see it?" Sarah called in a trembling voice, looking down with all her eyes. "Is there - beyond the cliff - the emptiness of space?"
Yuriko swallowed imperceptibly, looking at Loki. She saw it too - the higher they climbed, the clearer it became that there was no land below, under the waterfall. There were stars too. And space.
"Asgard is a classic 'Discworld', only without elephants and whales," answered the dark-haired, driving the boat, holding on to a real tiller, as on wooden vessels, only here it was metal and somehow made it possible to control the entire movement of the ship. including up. "It hangs in the cosmic void at the edge of the galaxy, or more precisely, at the top of a globular cluster around the center of the galaxy, if its disk is put on its side."
"But that's impossible," said Dr. Kinney, dumbfounded. "From a physical point of view"
"Why not? However, if it is easier for you, you can perceive Asgard as such a huge spaceship, this is not true, but close enough to the truth."
The scientist swallowed and looked at the sky with such close and unrealistically colorful stars in a new way. Yuriko also looked at them, again feeling the abyss that separated her from the creature that had saved her. Able to move between the stars in a few seconds, immortal, obeyed by the Gods living at the top of the galaxy ... he had no reason to mess with it. Even pay attention. A man in his place would simply kill the useless witness how he killed Stryker. Or just like Stryker. I would use it for my own purpose - to make the performance more believable. No troubles in the family could serve as an excuse for his help - the former prisoner of her own body knew human nature too well: problems, mental anguish, disappointment in loved ones - none of this makes people kinder, only toughens. It makes one cast aside an already not too strong touch of humanism and releases all the rot that is hiding inside under the pressure of society. But he helped ...
The girl turned her gaze to the thin face of a man in a green cloak and shining silver adamantium armor. Thin lips, a perfectly smooth chin without any traces of shaving, a high forehead, now hidden by a fancy horned helmet, azure-green eyes in the rays of the sun. At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about him - his face was not fantastically beautiful, as if it had come off the cover of a glossy magazine; in dim light, his eyes always faded, becoming an indefinitely pale shade; the figure also did not differ in the article and the breadth of the shoulders, which would force to attract the eye. He would be an ordinary and unremarkable passer-by, just changing clothes for something youthful and athletic. But he was not ordinary. Never.
His body was in perfect physical shape, so she could fully be convinced of this, without even trying to peep furtively, because during their trip he shamelessly tried several times to sunbathe in the sun at minus five. His facial expressions and especially his smile were able to amazingly and fully convey many times more context and emotions in a conversation than the words themselves. His pleasant voice grabbed attention from the first sounds, not letting go and not allowing himself to be ignored, no matter how quietly and between times he inserted remarks. He joked often, was amazingly light, and cooked great. During the incomplete week and a half on the road with him, she felt as if she had spent a good month on vacation, everything passed so easily and carefree, imperceptibly and at the same time endlessly obviously washing out old fatigue, fear and tension from her heart. Harmony in his movements, color of clothes, behavior, all this instantly attracted attention, not allowing himself to be forgotten. Wiry, not too tall, with the appearance of a boy just out of college, he was something special, like a man, and this feeling of hers did not affect his abilities and magical techniques.
It was possible to admit to myself - Yuriko was desperately happy that life brought her to Loki, but even more desperately she felt her uselessness - uselessness for him. Even if he didn't show it with a word or a half-glance, it was enough to look around ... at his feet ... in the sky - anywhere to understand what a huge abyss between them. This feeling tore the soul, and, perhaps, a real bushi * or yojimbo in her place would have to leave so as not to burden the master with her worthlessness, but the girl did not have the spirit to do so. Selfish, low desire ... but she couldn't bring herself to give it up. Not after what she went through at the behest of Stryker and others.
With an effort of will, suppressing the stirring emotions, Yuriko looked away from the man's figure and unexpectedly met her eyes with the X-23 project. Laura.
The farmed girl looked at her with her usual silent interest. She looked at everything and everyone like that, only sometimes varying her expression in the direction of greater interest, surprise, or alertness. The former secretary of William Stryker did not like to communicate with her - there was too much in common between them, so that this did not lead to embarrassment and discomfort. They were even taught to fight according to one template, or rather ... At first this template was worked out on Yuriko, and already the final version was used on a child, and this made it hard for a woman to be with her. Ordinary people did not try too hard to make the teaching methods for their mutant slaves pleasant, rather the opposite - only efficiency was paramount, and when the student still cannot die from concomitant injuries ... The former prisoner of her own body did not want to remember this, but Laura was a living reminder. A reminder that makes you all the time realize that through the same thing, largely through her fault, went through the one who did not deserve it an order of magnitude more than she did.
Meanwhile, looking for something on Yuriko's face for several seconds, the girl turned to Loki and, after a little thought, got up from her place to come closer to him and sit down opposite - on the other side of the tiller. The man noticed this, but did not comment in any way, only tenaciously following her movements, hiding in the tips of her lips a hint of a smile, which, according to the Japanese woman's experience, can stop being a hint at any moment, from, it would seem, any act of Laura. For almost a minute, the Scandinavian god and the girl born to be a weapon played peepers, as they did all the time. At such moments, it seemed to Yuriko that they knew how to speak mentally, so strange was their communication. In fact, she had no doubt that such communication was available to Loki, but every time the picture still gave off some kind of mysticism. And now, as soon as the girl lowered her gaze to the metal "stick" of control, and then raised it again to the God of Magic, he, as always, understood what the child was thinking.
"Mental control," the brunette explained with a slight smile.
"…" Laura turned her gaze back to the tiller, then back to Loki and carefully raised her hand, her hand frozen over the metal surface, never ceasing to look into the man's eyes.
"Well, try …" he frankly amused, encouragingly stretching his lips in a snake smile.
"Isn't it dangerous?" Sarah caught herself.
"No, even children in Asgard know how to control flying boats," God shook his head negatively, and the girl had already touched the metal ...
***
Odin's chambers greeted me with silence and the honey smell of burnt wax. Odin loved real wax candles, or rather, their smell, so he sometimes lit them at home, despite all the technomagic advancement of Asgard. Now they were clearly lit by Frigga, who sat faithfully at the head of her husband's bed and gave me a warm smile as soon as I entered. The Allfather's body was covered with a golden hemisphere of healing magic, reminiscent of a classical force field, although, as I knew, it freely passed any objects back and forth. One looked serene - covered with a fluffy blanket to his chest, he slept on his back, not at all resembling the formidable and mighty King of Asgard, from whose name whole worlds trembled. An ordinary old man with a soft, round face, a small tummy and a thick, snow-white beard. In fact, his face exactly repeated the face of the great Anthony Hopkins, which played him in the film, but I be damned if Odin now aroused even the slightest associations with Hannibal Lecter, so remembered in my past world thanks to the talent of this man.
Walking silently across the bedchamber, I rounded the wide couch on the other side of the one where the queen was sitting, and slowly sat down on the armchair that stood there. Strange feelings seethed inside, which to call "mixed" would be a little faded. The human part of me clearly trembled from the intimacy with one of the most powerful creatures of this universe, which was greatly facilitated by Loki's knowledge, which made it possible to realize this power in many times greater completeness than any entertaining film could give. One was God, the full-fledged ruler of this world. Even just sitting next to him, I felt how connected he is with the surrounding space, how Asgard and several other - real - planets and even entire dimensions, even pocket or dwarf ones, are submissive to his will. He was even connected to the Earth! Not as full and deep as with this artificial world of the aces, but this connection was still there, and it was more than mine. The former Loki did not think about it - he was too used to it, and he saw plenty of examples of his father's magical power, but it made me sick to my liver. I, too, could feel the worlds - their soul, essence. But for me it was a distant and vague sensation - I just knew that this soul was there, perceived it as a background, something like a smell or air temperature, but influencing it, forcing it to do something, and even more so - to draw from her power ... All this was inaccessible to me. I wasn't just calling Storm the Goddess for the sake of compliment. Her power was based on communication with the world, on empathy with it, the ability to ask and receive - a phenomenal influence even for a real God. Still, she was not a Goddess, she was a mutant, whose psionic abilities were configured in such a bizarre way that she received her own analogue of the powers inherent in the strongest of the Aesir. One was just God and could well do the same thing that she did, and on a dozen worlds. So my feelings shouted to me, so Loki's knowledge whispered to me. And they also said how bad Odin was. How tired and weak he was. I saw its connection with the universe, I saw its potential, and I saw how the Allfather is now unable to realize it. He was like a huge ancient dragon, defeated not by enemies and weapons, but by old age and weakness, but continuing to inspire sacred awe even in such a decrepit and defenseless state.
But this was only about strength and fear of disclosure. The fear that prompted me to flee Asgard. But he was not the only one who reigned in my soul.
Loki's memory, memories ... that with which I became akin and already, let's be honest with myself, I'm used to considering my own. All this turned upside down at the sight of my father's condition. Strict, quick-tempered, always favoring the Torah, sometimes stupid and stubborn, right up to gritting teeth, but ... father. Always so powerful and fearsome, now weak and defenseless. Abandoned by an adopted child, betrayed in the best feelings and hopes by his beloved son, disappointed and devoured by regret, helpless to fix something and forced to abandon his wife, his kingdom, everything for which he lived his life, at the most responsible and critical moment. The moment you need it most. I realized that I was not the Loki that he was, that Odin was not my father, that I should not feel anything for him except contempt for the disgusting result of raising my children, but I still felt sorry for him. Something thick and nagging rose in my chest, suspiciously like love. I wanted to help, apologize, hug and even, damn it, cry ...
And I was just covered with a hopeless canopy of despair from just the thought of how much I had to pull, if I actually rule Asgard. Administrative duties did not scare me, people scared me. Rather, the aces. Their culture, customs, moral and social principles, traditions of doing business and obeying orders ...
This is where my difference from the previous Loki was manifested most of all - I could not live in this society. I didn't want to live in it. I didn't want to adjust to him. I didn't want to ... support him. The society of technically overdeveloped psychics-long-livers who are stuck in the tribal system is too alien for me. But the Tsar should not only follow the traditions, he should be, as they say, holier than the Pope, especially if he is not all right with the legitimacy of the right to the throne. It would seem, given Loki's reputation, do whatever you want, but in real life it is a one-way trip. Plus ... no potatoes here!
"I asked him to be honest with you from the start," Frigga broke the lingering silence, gently squeezing Odin's fingers over the blanket. "There should be no secrets in our family ...
"We all have secrets," I echoed, continuing to hypnotize the face of the ruler of Asgard with my eyes, "but some secrets are too painful if I'm late with their disclosure.
"He was hiding the truth from you so that you would not feel like a stranger," the asinya tried to catch my gaze. Overpowering myself, I succumbed, raising my eyes to her. "You are our son, Loki," feeling a small victory, she continued with heartfelt pressure, "and we are your family. You should know this.
"Our knowledge sometimes plays a cruel joke with us," turning aside, I try to calm down the feelings raging inside. Well, at least there were no servants in the sleeping chamber now, and I could not be afraid that, wandering around the room, I would face a curious onlooker.
"You can talk to him," speaking in a new tone, she delicately suggested changing the subject of Frigga. "He can see and hear us even now."
"I'm afraid I'm not in that state right now and I can say a lot of unnecessary things, and he is already having a hard time after Thor's antics," I sigh, massaging my eyes with my fingers. I knew that Odin could observe the world even in a dream, but the reminder still did not bring positive emotions. "How long will it last?"
"I don't know," the woman shook her head, looking at her husband. - This time everything is different - we were not ready.
"So my feelings are correct - it will take him years, perhaps decades, to recover," I said, partly asking, but rather asserting.
"You are a good son," Thor's mother smiled. "Now you understand why we need it so much?"
"Yes, but I don't want to rule Asgard!" Hear me the original Loki, he would have died of a heart attack, despite the fact that the Aesir are not susceptible to mortal diseases.
"I don't understand …" Frigga frowned in bewilderment, "haven't you been preparing for this all your life?"
"Yes, but I refused it," I lean my elbows on my knees, preparing to express what I feel, but so that she understands and does not get out of the picture with Loki, who recognized his real pedigree. "I let go of this unrealizable, stupid dream and started a new life. I… I first looked at the world without the prism of the situation in Asgard, without the desire to surpass Thor in your eyes, and… I realized that I did not need power!" I look up from the floor to meet the eyes of the Queen of Asgard. "I do not want to rule, I do not want to rule and command. I have killed more than a thousand years of my life to strive to achieve the impossible, to a dream that is unrealizable, to a goal born of lies. And when I found out the truth ... when I …" I lick my lips, unable to find the exact word, "I got free," I found an analogue, simultaneously shaking my head. "Then I realized that my dreams ... These are mine! They are not about ruling a kingdom. My true passion is magic. I thirst for knowledge, thirst for power, but not borrowed, but my own, which no one can take away from me. And I want my own life too. Not built on a lie, not a gift or grace. And I got this life in Midgard! There, for the first time in my life, my friends appeared. Although it is so wrong to say - they are more likely still friends," I shrug my shoulders, "but still they are mine, not Torah. For them I am not the slippery shadow of a splendid brother, not the son of the King. For them I am I! They evaluate me not for who and what I am, but for what I do. If I reveal to them that I am an ice giant, it will not change anything. In their eyes, I will not change in any way. And if I reveal who I am, to Asgard, Heimdall will be the first to try to put me on his sword, not to mention the other Aesir and Vans! I do not want such a life - I do not want to be an eternal hostage, shaking so that no one would find out his secret. I do not want this wormhole to devour me from the inside, especially at the moment when I just started to truly live."
"… You've grown, Loki," Frigga said with a sad and kind smile on her lips.
"This happens sometimes," I muttered under my breath, feeling something like embarrassment from the speech I just said. In addition, the fact that Odin heard this speech, even though he was now "not with us," did not add to my mood either. Well, the listed circumstances - it was a real vinaigrette from the memories of Loki's past and my motivation.
"Yes, and this only proves that it is better to find the King of Asgard," continued to smile and look at me with genuine pride. "You do not need power, which means that you will not start wars for the sake of obtaining it, you want to live by your ideals and dreams, which means that it will be difficult for you to impose on others."
"You are now trying to do this …" my discontent has not disappeared anywhere.
"No," the woman shook her head, "I'm just trying to show you that you are worthy of the throne of Asgard, and the throne of Asgard is worthy of you. Believe me, Loki, Odin was also not eager to inherit from his father. But we are aces. Our strength and power are great, but so is the responsibility entrusted to us. Someone has to keep the Nine Worlds."
"Then why don't you lead Asgard?" I already knew the answer from the memory of my predecessor, but the person in me could not remain silent. "You have more experience and authority than me!"
"Loki, you know very well that only the King can rule the Kingdom. My place is next to my husband, but not in the place of my husband, as a little one, Frigga explained to me in a motherly way.
"But I'm not even an ace, I'm an ice giant dystrophic with skin pigmentation disorders!" I already realized that she had an answer prepared for each of my arguments, but I couldn't just give up. "I have no claim to the throne of Asgard!"
"You're wrong," the asinya's face darkened. "Of course, you were not conceived by Odin, but you still have his blood in you. You are only half an ice giant, son, the other half is in you from the asgardian."
" Sorry, what?" to say that this news gave me a blow in the stomach is to say nothing. No, I assumed that I could be a half-breed, but carry Odin's blood in me ... "I heard right? Odin's blood flowing in me?"
"Yes," the woman nodded, closing her eyes.
"A-a-a-nd? .." with all my pose, I depict a keen interest in further explanations. I myself would not ask directly who my mother is - I understood that for Frigga it would be a very painful question, and the real Loki would never ask it, because he loved his adoptive mother with all his heart, but since she herself raised the topic ...
"The woman who bore and gave birth to you was Odin's eldest daughter, Hela," the queen confessed with a heavy sigh.
"W-wait a second," I put my index finger in a protective gesture, trying to prevent my eyes from falling out of their natural place. "You mean that very Hela, who is the Goddess of Death? .. Who is Thor's older sister and a shamelessly strong lady, obsessed with a thirst for power and is currently locked up by her father in Helheim?
"Did you know about her?" Frigga was genuinely amazed.
"Did I know that Odin was at one time quite a tyrannical conqueror of the galaxy, who shed rivers of blood so that Asgard would take the place that he occupies now, and that his daughter Hela, who is the Goddess of Death, from whom he later helped him in this renounced and which he imprisoned, tying chains on his own life? Yes, I knew about it," a nervous smile came to my face, and I started to twitch slightly. "And you want to say that here she is - my biological mother?" The answer was written in wide letters on the gloomy face of the asinya. "And Thor, it turns out, is my uncle ?!"
Did I say that the news gave me a blow in the gut? I was wrong. Then it did not affect me at all, but now I was hit by a TRUCK! What kind of Santa Barbara ?! This was not in the script for the films! Marvel Cinematic Universe, what Surtur are you doing to my life? A-ah-ah !!! Thor is my uncle! Don't let the creator, he will find out about it! He's already an insufferable self-centered snob!
And Frigga, meanwhile, nodded ...
"That is, not only am I half a monster with which mothers scare children, not only am I the son of Lafey, but I am also the son of a bloody traitorous maniac who has gone all over her head, who twisted so that she was completely erased from the history of Asgard ?"
"You are my son. And Odin's son. That is our word," now Frigga's gaze clearly read "and I will skim off anyone who tries to blather on this."
"Oh-ho-ho-ho-hoh …" I lower my face into my palms. "I was not ready for this, give me a moment to collect my thoughts …"
There would be something else to get together with, because in my head there was just white noise with discharges of interference, like in old tube TVs ...
"Loki," the voice of my mother brought me out of prostration ... yes, not mine, but now I was almost ready not to even correct myself in my thoughts.
"What?" I open my eyes and squint in the direction of the woman.
In response, she silently offered to look into the far corner of the bedchamber. Following her gaze, I saw Gungnir, frozen on his heel, looking vertically upward, as he always did, as soon as Odin let go of his hand. The spear did not lean on anything, maintaining an upright position on its own, and ... I immediately understood what the queen was driving at.
"Mom …" a heavy sigh escaped from his chest. "Well, I'm the God of Deception and Mischief, half of Asgard hates me, and the other despises me! See?" I stretch my hand towards the spear, mentally sending a call in its direction. "I can't even summon Gung …" I didn't have time to finish, as the golden staff jumped into my hand, overcoming the entire space of the bedchamber, and how the poured fell into my palm ... "I summoned Gungnir?" I hatched dumbfounded on Odin's spear. "And he really knows how?" implying flying into the owner's hand, I turn to Frigga.
"This is the weapon of the king of Asgard," the woman, literally beaming with pride, smiled warmly at me. "Of course, it is no worse than the weapon of the heir."
"But he never did that …" I feel like an idiot.
"Because your father didn't need it, but you did."
"But… wait," I closed my eyes crookedly, feeling like I had eaten a lemon. "Magic doesn't work like that! Artifacts or something, or not able."
"And yet he lay in your hand."
"It doesn't prove anything!"
"On the contrary, it means that you can be the King. In addition, even if you do not love this title, should not the God of Deception and Evil Jokes like the idea of turning around the whole kingdom of the Aesir?" legions of laughs danced in the eyes of the queen of these ases.
"Uh-um-ne …" I look from my interlocutor to the all-metal spear made of metal Uru, which served as the prototype of partisanes on Earth. The power of the artifact flowed into my fingers, mixing with mine and entering into resonance, multiplying my own magical power several times, the skills and capabilities of one of the most powerful weapons in the galaxy were opened to my mind, and I also felt how the pseudo-intelligence of the artifact tuned in to me, forming a long-term connection , as if in all seriousness deciding to settle in my hands for a long, long time. "Well," my shoulders drooped, illustrating complete defeat - I was surrounded from all sides, "you convinced me …"
Notes:
* Bushi is a military-feudal class in Japan, which arose in the 8th-10th centuries, as well as a "warrior" in the broadest sense of the word. The lower part of the bushi estate consisted of the small-scale military service nobility - the samurai. In modern Japanese, the words "bushi" and "samurai" are synonymous.
Youjimbo is a bodyguard.
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