Loki After Endgame: Cheating Death

Chap 9: God Of Mischief

Loki:

After Strange strengthened the enchantment, the spell has become even harder to break. I huff, feeling frustrated. Try as I might, it simply doesn't budge. I curse myself and begin to pace the room. I completely lost the element of surprise by saving that damn girl. What was I thinking? Why did I risk my escape just to help her? Now it's going to take me several more days to weaken the enchantment. And I'm certain Strange will keep a closer eye on me, now that he knows what I'm capable of. Why did I save that foul wretched human? She's clearly stark-raving mad!

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. My mind races trying to come up with an angle to turn this to my advantage. I saved her life, so she must trust me, I can use that. She seemed reluctant to release me, and yet she said she wants to help me. But I'm no fool, it's clear that she's just using me to teach her more powerful magic. I'll find out what her endgame is, even if I have to pry the truth from her cold dead lips.

So, she's a rule breaker, who's been hunting criminals down. Wildly unstable and out of control, but interesting nonetheless. As fascinated as I am by her vendetta and her unbridled rage, I've got to focus on using this to my benefit, which shouldn't be too hard. I'm suddenly jolted from my thoughts when I hear her bedroom door creak open. Kamilla appears in the hallway with a mop and bucket and silently begins cleaning the blood from the floor. As the humans say, you'll catch more insects with honey.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I prod politely in my most charming manner.

She ignores me and pulls a sponge from her water bucket and begins scrubbing the floor vigorously, the muscles in her thin arms trembling with exertion.

"You once told me that you didn't judge me for my past crimes." I pause and sit down in my doorway to get eye level with her. "I'd like to return the favor. If you'd like to vent, you'll get no judgement from me."

She huffs, eyeing me warily, but says nothing.

I smile gently, "I think it's rather amazing what you've been doing. Helping children, killing villains. That's quite an impressive resume you've got there."

"Someone had to do it." She mutters. I nod kindly and wait for her to continue.

"It's just the Masters, they have all this power, and they don't do anything to help hurting children. I didn't want to be like them, I just wanted to make a difference. Is that so bad?"

"Not at all." I say solemnly, "Humans can be so arrogant and single minded."

"Ha, you got that right." She sighs, "I just don't want children to suffer, like I-" She falters and goes silent.

"I understand. You wanted to defend the defenseless. There's no shame in that. Strange was wrong to scold you. You are clearly the only one here with enough foresight to do the right thing. They are all impudent fools, too blinded by their own self importance."

She finishes scrubbing the floor and stands up, lost in thought. Then stares past me, her eyes glazed, "I was nineteen during the decimation. I had just finished high school, and with half the population missing, I was desperate for any amount of power. So I searched for the Avengers, planning to beg Black Widow to train me. But none of the Avengers would take the time to meet with me, so I went to New Asgard and snuck in to see Thor. He was the only Avenger who was willing to talk to me and even though he was hardly speaking to anybody, he told me about the Masters of the Mystic Arts and where I could find them. So I made my way overseas to Kamar-Taj and begged Wong to train me and eventually he did. I was an excellent student, I learned magic very quickly and within a year I earned my sling ring. Soon I realized that I could use my magic for good and began hunting down the monsters who kidnaped children, and eventually I used the Scrying Orb of Agomotto to find out where missing children where being kept. Once I discovered their exact location I would hunt them down and kill their captors. Some of the children were kept in such bad conditions and beaten so badly it made me sick." She clenches her fists, her rage barely concealed. I make careful note of everything she tells me, my mind whirling with possibilities.