I Need Air


Loki fell.

It wasn't the kind of fall you take after you trip, nor was it a figurative fall into passionate emotion. No, Loki was falling because he let go.

And as sure as he was falling in space, Loki knew he was falling in time. Hurtling backwards—or was it forwards?—into an unfamiliar front, he knew he would soon be at a disadvantage. A god, out of proper context, was only as strong as his will—though that was no worry. Wayward, hell-bent Loki had never been known for his mild manner. Yet an iron will can only take you so far as a god; as much as you believe in yourself, another must believe in you.

"Just one," Loki thought, feeling his body reach terminal velocity. His arrival to Midgard was imminent. "If I can tame one, I can tame them all."