Sigyn's Discovery (Part 1)

The Chitauri Attack (LOKI)

Would she wear it as I intended her to? As proof of her...well, what did she have? Allegiance? Loyalty? Admiration? Or was it something closer to devotion—not just trust in what I could or would do for Asgard, but what I might do for her personally?

Our few interactions were something I came to look forward to, to my dismay. The way she'd quip with me briefly in the afternoons was a comfortable break from council meetings that dragged for hours. When we couldn't speak, I found her in the background, hoping she might glance my direction for some kind of tacit signal that she knew I was watching.

Sigyn wasn't worth the trouble to destroy. Perhaps she was worth the trouble for something else.

I drummed my fingers on the armrest of the throne and pondered the girl. If anyone watched me too closely, they might've seen the mischief on my face, but I trusted they didn't. My soldiers were too preoccupied with their reports and want to impress me than to suspect me. Minding my posture as Sigyn once directed, I stared into nothing, only half listening to the latest reports.

Daydreaming was far more interesting than waiting for the enemy. Weren't they supposed to arrive by now? Had Thanos decided my people weren't worth his drones' sacrifice?

Though I sat at the center of the crowd, I was far away from the throne room. Alone in the dark, Sigyn visited without words or whispers. She snaked her hips, seducing me with nothing more than her blue eyes and the glint of desire within them. The curve of her body, which felt so light and soft within my arms so many weeks ago, might be even more forgiving without the boundaries of fabric. I ceased my drumming and pressed my palm down, imagining her skin was just as smooth, only warm.

She turned, letting her hair down and inviting me to untie her robe as I reached greedily...

A violent smash through the pillars of the judgment hall snapped me back into reality. A black and silver vehicle carrying two well-armored aliens crashed through, forcing the few guards not paying attention to yell in surprise. These first warriors were followed by two, four, then seven fellow ships which blasted my soldiers away with blue fire from their long guns.

I knew those weapons. Chitauri. So the minions of Thanos did come.

They were no match for me. Gungnir, Odin's sceptre, was far more powerful than any of their machines, no matter how many of them there were. I stood and struck with certainty at every ship, decimating several before their pilots could disembark. Asgardian soldiers flooded in from the lower floors, though their wide eyes and few battle cries showed their fear. To them, the Chitauri were horrific with their exposed teeth and gray flesh beneath the brass breastplates. Perhaps only Heimdall knew where they'd come from for certain, besides myself.

Crimson Hawks and Valkyrie soldiers spread along the periphery of the noble floor, attempting to keep the fight contained to the judgment hall and away from the citizens below. I thanked Valhalla that they hadn't arrived with one of their monstrous, gigantic squadrons that could've destroyed the whole palace with its crushing weight. Yet one of the Chitauri set upon me specifically and isolated our battle from the rest by cornering me behind the throne.

Back and forth, he shot at me and I shot at him. If I'd been in my true form, he would've perished within a few steps—but trapped in Odin's heavy frame, I struggled against him. My illusion was too perfect and it manifested weight as well as the disadvantage of only one eye.

An intense boom shook the floor and both the enemy and I stopped striking one another to gain our footing. Another Chitauri ship invaded at the end of the hall and a scurry of more soldiers rushed to meet it.

They were too late. One of the creatures leapt from the ship and aimed for the stairs. A woman's shriek, no doubt that of a servant, bounded off the walls and up to the domed ceiling.