As if possessing divine timing, Shade Winter stepped through the front door the exact moment they reached the ground floor.
At the sight of Loki, her striking blue eyes ignited with an intense, melting affection—a look that defied her reputation as a cold, untouchable goddess.
Standing a couple of inches shorter than his five-foot-seven frame, she glided forward without a word, slipping into his arms. She pulled him down into a tender, welcoming kiss. Loki’s hand slid down the back of her head, his fingers tangling in the impossibly soft, snow-white strands of her hair as the kiss lingered, then slowly broke.
"Wife, dinner will be ready soon," Loki said, his voice soft. "Why don't you go take a bath beforehand?"
Shade shook her head. Her gaze shifted to the Dark Elf standing a short distance away. When she spoke, her voice carried its usual lack of outward emotion, but to anyone who truly knew her, the warmth in her heart was undeniable. "If Taki is willing, I can spend more time at your side with her water magic. May I?"
Taki Tsuki, her eyes closed in her characteristic serene expression, gave a quiet nod. With a brief manipulation of her elemental magic, she cleansed the travel fatigue from Shade in an instant.
With the domestic matters settled, the four of them moved into the fine dining room. Loki took his rightful place at the head of the table. Shade sat directly to his left, immediately slipping into the role of a doting wife as she meticulously arranged his napkin, silverware, and wine glass.
To Shade’s left sat Taki Tsuki. As a mistress Loki had already favored and grown deeply intimate with, she carried herself with a quiet confidence, laying out a pair of fine chopsticks brought from her Elven homeland. While she was perfectly capable of using a knife and fork when the cuisine demanded it, old habits died hard; she had used chopsticks for far too long to abandon them now.
On Loki's right sat Yin Meng, who mirrored the Elf by laying out her own high-quality chopsticks. Tonight, Yin wasn't dressed in her usual maid attire.
Loki had strictly insisted she wear her sharp, flowing white cultivator robes instead, treating them as elegant casual wear. Though Loki hadn't officially bedded Yin just yet, both of them knew that dynamic was bound to change. Once Shade departed for her home in the north, Loki and Yin would be left to their routine of sharing late-night baths and washing one another's hair.
Feeling Loki’s intense, green-eyed gaze locking onto her, Yin blinked. Comprehension dawned on her features, and she instantly guessed the wicked direction of his thoughts. Flushing a deep crimson, she self-consciously pulled her cultivator robes a fraction tighter over her chest. Loki caught the movement and flashed her a wicked, knowing smile.
Creak.
The heavy front door groaned open, interrupting the quiet romance of the room. Thorin trudged into the foyer, looking thoroughly exhausted and completely buried under a mountain of elaborately wrapped gift boxes.
Loki knew at a glance exactly what those were: political bribes from the royal family to secure Thorin's loyalty. He couldn't resist the urge to poke the bear.
"Shade, look at all the gifts our brother bought us!" Loki called out, his voice dripping with exaggerated cheer. "Thorin really is the best brother in all of Myst!"
Shade caught on instantly. Matching his playfulness, she looked over at Thorin with an expression of fake, wide-eyed anticipation just to keep her husband amused.
Thorin had entered with a gloomy pout, which briefly vanished when he took in the luxurious interior of the estate he would now call home. But seeing the entire dining table turning to eye him for presents he hadn't actually bought, he froze in sheer, awkward shame.
"I... these, um..." Thorin stammered, clearing his throat. "They are gifts from Prince Vali and Princess Lana."
Loki doubled down, refusing to let him off the hook. "Oh! They sent us all welcoming gifts?! How thoughtful. I wonder if Vali got me a wedding photo holder? Or maybe Lana sent over a mud mask cosmetic kit?"
As the head butler stepped forward to relieve Thorin of the heavy packages, the young warrior caught the collective smirks of the women. The realization hit him like a physical blow.
"Dammit, Loki, it's all your fault!" Thorin snapped.
A maid stepped in, politely guiding a grumbling Thorin to the opposite end of the massive twelve-person dining table.
As the servants rolled out the first course of fresh salads, Loki offered an expression of innocent, genuine curiosity. "Hey, what did I even do? All I remember was putting those school uniforms in your arms, right?"
Thorin deadpanned across the long expanse of the table. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand and started counting his grievances on his fingers.
"First, you completely abandoned me into the jaws of the Balder siblings, leaving me behind while you skipped out on school registration. I am emotionally drained, Loki. Drained." He dropped a finger. "Second, you absolutely did not have to push me toward Lana Balder with those subtle 'couple comments' about our matching blonde hair. I mean, sure, I admit she’s incredibly beautiful, but that whole situation is shallow and drowning in royal politics!"
Another finger dropped. "Third, before you absolutely roasted Vice President Lisa Swallow, couldn't you have done it faster? Like, before I arrived?
Because you executed a flawless verbal Blitzkrieg, I’ve been bombarded by the entire city asking about you and your absurd talents!"
Thorin shook his fist, his voice rising in comical outrage. "And the absolute straw that broke my camel's back—or rather, broke Brown Sugar’s back—was walking into the stables only to find Sleipnir actively humping my damn horse! Loki, I swear to gods that stallion is doing it on purpose!"
Loki didn't even try to hide his laugh. Sleipnir was absolutely doing it on purpose. In fact, watching the horse's smug demeanor lately, Loki was constantly reminded of Maximus, that cynical, long-haired blonde horse from the old Earth fairy tale movie.
"Thorin, you were literally drooling over the Princess and practically begging us to help her earlier," Loki countered smoothly. "So of course I sold you out... I mean, guided you to her. She totally has the hots for you, anyway."
Loki took a bite of his food before continuing. "As for the matchmaking? You're both blondes, and you're both airheads. It’s a perfect match. As for my timing with the Viper President? Why didn't you just show up later? Technically, I got there first. And about your horse... what do you want me to do, hose them down and scold them? If she gets pregnant, hey, that’s a free horse for you. If it bothers you that much, I suggest buying a stallion to interfere with their true love."
Chink! Chew, chew, chew.
Defeated and furious, Thorin violently stabbed a forkful of salad and began chewing it with aggressive vengeance.
By the time the steaming bowls of soup arrived, Thorin had finally calmed down enough to ask a serious question. "Are you seriously skipping the first day of school the day after next? Your name has already spread across the entire city."
Loki took a slow, appreciative sip of his cream of mushroom soup, then shook his head. "The royals will find a way to drag me back to school eventually.
I’m far too popular now, and they know they can't easily brainwash or monitor me outside of campus walls. But I’m going to enjoy a few days of absolute rest at home first. I want to make Mrs. Swallow regret being stupid for a little while longer."
Thorin nodded slowly, accepting the logic. Knowing Loki would eventually show up to the academy was enough to lay the matter to rest.
"I... I love you, my Loki...!"
Slump.
As they finally concluded their second intense round of lovemaking, Shade collapsed weakly against his chest, her soft, shapely bust pressing tightly against him.
Loki remained joined with her, his hands gently tracing the elegant, tender curves of her body. A warm smile spread across his face as he looked down at the passionate woman currently melting in his arms—a woman who, to the rest of the world, remained buried behind a permanent glacier of ice.
"Finding and marrying you is truly the greatest blessing of this life, Shade honey," Loki whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so deeply, you know?"
Shade lifted her head, her beautifully crafted, long white hair spilling over his shoulders like a silken waterfall. Her piercing blue eyes locked onto his, staring straight into his soul with profound seriousness.
"When you first said you wanted me... my heart, my soul, and my body felt completely relieved. Satisfied, Loki. Thank you for wanting me... I... love... you... Loki."
Slowly, her beautiful face lowered. Her lips met his in a gentle, lingering kiss—not born of raw passion this time, but of pure, unadulterated affection.
Yet, the moment their lips touched, a heavy, unnatural wave of exhaustion washed over Loki's mind. Without his permission, his eyelids grew impossibly heavy, and he dragged instantly into a deep, inescapable slumber.
The darkness swelled, and the nightmare returned. It was the exact same terrorscaped memory he had suffered a handful of times before.
A fourteen-foot-long Black Mamba, its massive body covered in familiar, beautifully dark iridescent scales, had its wicked fangs buried deep into his shoulder and neck.
In this dream, he was trapped in his old, mortal Earth body—the body of Luke Sky. He could feel absolutely nothing from the neck down. Paralysis had already set in. In the periphery of his fading vision, he could see Amaya Kaida, his Earth girlfriend. She was clutching her own arm, which had already turned a horrific shade of bruised purple from a venomous snake bite.
As Earth-Loki suffered through the rapid failure of his sight and hearing, his dying mind noted the absurdity of it all. This was his bedroom. A giant, monstrous Black Mamba had absolutely no business being inside a standard residential home. The details of the memory were constantly slipping away, blurred and eroded by the lethal cocktail of neurotoxins coursing through his veins.
But the core sequence remained. He remembered that right before the serpent struck, he and Amaya had made love for the very first time. They had rushed into it because they knew humanity had exactly five hours left to live.
Just one week prior, a world-shaking hurricane named "Zoe" had utterly ravaged the southeastern United States before breaking all laws of physics and vanishing into thin air. The world had descended into chaotic uproar, with millions claiming it was a harbinger of the apocalypse.
As it turned out, the doomsday preppers were right.
Just five hours before he and Amaya decided to spend their final moments living as husband and wife, a massive, hyper-velocity asteroid had materialized out of the blind spots of deep space. It slammed directly into the Moon, tearing it into two colossal chunks. The orbital decay was catastrophic; the remnants were projected to rain down and incinerate the Earth within ten hours of the initial impact.
Even now, through the bedroom window, the night sky was blindingly white. The atmosphere hissed as fragments of the shattered moon burned up in the upper atmosphere—a raining curtain of fire ensuring zero chance of human survival.
And yet, this massive snake had interrupted their final hours, appearing out of nowhere. Oddly enough, the serpent didn't seem to harbor any malice or hatred toward them; it was simply acting on primal, cosmic instinct.
Perhaps, Loki’s subconscious realized, this is exactly why I have such an irrational fear of snakes here in Myst.
Then, his dying brain began to hallucinate. Or at least, the venom made it feel that way.
"I cannot believe Saga actually found him in her reincarnation," a woman's voice echoed, light and melodic. "Nobody would believe it, haha."
Loki could distinctly tell there were three separate women standing over his dying body, their voices distinct and ethereal. He couldn't make out their faces through the haze, seeing only long, blindingly radiant hair that pulsed with divine energy. They looked like goddesses. Or angels. Or the final firings of a dying nervous system.
"The others have already departed for the new world," a second, colder voice chimed in. "It is time for us to follow, before he dies and triggers the gate to Myst."
Myst? Loki’s fading mind gripped the word. How do they know about Myst?
A third voice, rich and heavy with seduction, spoke up. "Who wants to feed him this apple? That one-eyed bastard already ate one and fled first, not to mention his own son did the same before Luke Sky could even cross over."
The cold voice spoke again. "I owe him the most, after all. I will do it... Perhaps he will find it in his heart to forgive me in the next life."
The first melodic voice sighed. "I still find it hard to believe that Baldr would really be the first to be born in Myst again, all thanks to his murder. The hatred Frigg carried for him was truly a long, exhausting one. Maybe I should be the one to feed him."
The seductive voice cut through the debate. "Why don't we each feed him a piece? Perhaps he will remember us when we meet in Myst, and we can start entirely anew to wipe away our old hatreds. It's a shame Sif didn't come with us."
"Fine, they are my apples," the melodic voice agreed. "I'll go first, here. I'll cut it... You know how Sif is. She could never bring herself to admit their affair, after all."
The haze in Loki's vision shifted as a divine silhouette leaned down over his paralyzed form. He felt the soft, impossible pressure of a woman's lips pressing against his, pushing a crisp, sweet fragment of an apple into his mouth.
"I'll remember that night in the forest when you saved my soul, and our brief affair," the voice whispered against his lips. "I hope you enjoyed that kiss, and my apples."
No sooner had she pulled away than the second silhouette leaned over, repeating the action. The intoxicating scent of perfume and raw allure washed over him.
"Fate played you like a puppet, mortal," the seductive voice purred. "But you can rest in peace now. I only hope you are slightly less annoying in your new reincarnation, you jerk."
Finally, the coldest, brightest silhouette lingered over him, her radiant hair casting long shadows across his dying face.
"Sigh. My father was really... forget it," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with a deep, ancient sorrow. "You and I shared a bed once, and I know I caused you the most pain. In our next life, let's just forgive and forget. Saga told me everything after you died and became Luke Sky... and now I just want to send you off to Myst with my own regrets. Goodbye, Luke Sky."
The divine light began to fade into a singular, crushing point of darkness as his brain activity flatlined. Yet, right before the dream shattered into nothingness, one final sentence echoed through the void.
"Stop kissing him, he is about to leave... Look, the portal to Myst is open. Take all three of them into the portal with us, we are the last. The Greeks are already entirely gone. Let's go..."
Slowly, the heavy darkness fractured, and light returned.
Loki opened his eyes to find his wife, Shade—the reincarnation of Skadi—kissing him tenderly in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom.
The lingering dread of the dream vanished as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, alerting her to his awakening. Pulling her down, he forced an even more passionate, breathless kiss, deliberately using her warmth to shake off the phantom cold of the apocalypse.
As their lips parted, a sense of profound clarity washed over him. He knew, with absolute certainty, that this was the very last dream of Earth he would ever have in his natural sleep.
From this moment on, the past was dead. The future was bright, and his sleep would belong only to the normal, peaceful dreams of the living.
Review, Comment, and light up Favorite Buttons...