"You want me to be the savior?"
Loki stared at Ben as if he had grown a second head. A part of him, a childish and long-suppressed part, had always fantasized about being a hero. He dreamed of being like Thor, a shining beacon in the heat of battle, the one who could single-handedly turn the tide.
But that was all it was: a dark fantasy. He knew himself. He knew his own weaknesses better than anyone. He was no hero. When faced with true danger, his first instinct was to flee. To not betray his allies was, for him, the highest form of loyalty. He was a god of mischief and silver tongues, not a warrior of unwavering courage. He was not suited for this responsibility.
And yet… when Ben placed the Casket of Ancient Winters and the Tesseract into his hands, Loki felt something stir within him. The cold, blue blood of the Frost Giants, a heritage he had long despised, began to boil.
This was the first time anyone had ever entrusted him with something so vital. In his long life, no one—not Odin, not Frigga, not even Thor—had ever truly believed he could be a hero.
But Ben was different.
Loki looked into his eyes and saw no trace of mockery, no hidden agenda. He saw only sincere, absolute belief. For a moment, he was speechless. He felt a strange, burning sensation in his eyes, as if they had been stuffed with onions. For one fleeting, terrifying second, he actually believed it himself. He believed that maybe, just maybe, he could do it. That he could be the one to stand against the storm, even if it cost him his life.
And for no other reason than this: someone believed in him.
He opened his mouth, but it took him several seconds to force out a single, broken word. "…Why?" He shook his head, the motion almost violent. "Why would you believe in me? I have already betrayed you once. I am a coward… I might… I might take these artifacts and deliver them to Thanos myself, if only to beg for my own life." He wasn't sure he would, but he knew it was something he was capable of.
"I believe in you, Loki," Ben said simply.
A bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaped Loki's lips. "Even I do not believe in myself."
"But I do," Ben insisted. "Just as I did on Sakaar." The words transported Loki back, to the moment Ben's faith had freed him from his shackles. "Look at them, Loki," Ben said, gesturing toward the heroes fighting desperately in the void. "None of them possess the power of a god, but not a single one has given up." He met Loki's gaze, his own eyes burning with intensity. "So, are you going to be a coward? Or are you going to be a king?"
"Do you truly think I am qualified?" Loki asked, his voice thick with sorrow. "I will never be able to lift that hammer. How can I possibly be worthy?"
Ben didn't answer directly. Instead, he posed a question of his own. "And who decides this qualification?" He shook his head. "Do you think I can lift that hammer?" Without waiting for an answer, he said, "I can't. But I am still the King of Sakaar. Not because of some birthright or prophecy, but because the people of Sakaar trust me. Because I saved them, protected them, and brought them hope. That is the true measure of a king." His voice softened slightly. "Is that not why you truly chose to stay with the Plumbers?"
Loki stammered, unable to form a coherent denial. "I… I just… I did not know what else to do…"
Ben smiled faintly, not pressing the point. "Loki, what kind of god, what kind of king, needs the recognition of a piece of metal?" His voice was quiet, but it resonated with profound power.
"It's just a hammer. Be a hero."
He said nothing more, letting the words hang in the air. He trusted Loki would understand. "Send me to Jotunheim," he commanded, his tone now sharp and unyielding.
Startled by the sudden order, Loki's mind went blank. He acted on pure instinct, his hands moving before his thoughts could catch up. He raised the Tesseract, and a swirling portal of nebular mist tore open reality before them. An icy blast of Jotunheim's frozen winds invaded the satellite.
Ben walked into the snowstorm without a backward glance.
Loki was left alone. He stood in a daze, Ben's words echoing in his mind. He still didn't know if he could do it.
But sometimes, you don't have time to think.
"WHAT IS GOING ON?!" Tony's voice, sounding like his hair was on fire, screamed over the comms.
By now, nearly all the heroes had retreated from open space. Tony, huddled in the core of the Veronica armor, was playing the part of a carrot dangling before a donkey, luring the dying Leviathan into the kill-zone. It had already passed the halfway point of the designated shield perimeter. The shield should have activated by now. Fearing the worst, Tony was screaming his lungs out.
The sound shocked Loki back to reality. He slapped his cheeks, gritted his teeth, and slammed the Tesseract back into the satellite's core machine. He keyed the comm. "There is no Ben Parker here," he announced, his voice shaking slightly. "Only Loki."
Tony was stunned into silence for a second, then his mind leaped to the worst conclusion. "What did you do to him, you backstabbing—!"
Loki ignored him. He took one deep, shuddering breath, trying to empty his mind of everything but the task at hand. Just do it.
"Hold that beast steady for five more seconds, Midgardian," he said.
Then, with a final, resolute movement, Loki slammed his hand down on the activation button.
The energy of the Tesseract was unleashed.
BOOM!
A dazzling, blinding beam of light erupted from the satellite. The raw, endless energy pulsed outwards, a surging torrent that slammed into the satellite's frame. From the core, intricate patterns of blue light spread like cracks in glass, and Loki felt as if he were standing on a shore, being battered by cosmic waves. The power flowed into the conduits, a testament to Ben Parker's genius. This modified satellite was pushed to the absolute limit of what Earth technology could withstand.
Closer to the atmosphere, Tony saw the satellite ignite, becoming a new morning star in the night sky. Three beams of pure energy shot out from it, racing toward their destinations.
The planetary shield was activating.
It would take time for the energy to reach the other satellites and link together. "Everyone, try to slow it down!" he yelled.
But the remaining heroes were exhausted. Now caught in Earth's gravity, maneuvering their armors became a monumental task, all while fending off the endless swarms of Chitauri. Venom and Peter, without armor, were in freefall, the symbiote shrieking as the heat of atmospheric reentry burned against it. They managed to hijack a Chitauri skiff and re-join the fight, but they could do little against the descent of the main beast.
"Who can hold it back?!" T'Challa yelled.
Natasha, still trapped inside the plummeting Leviathan, felt the sickening lurch of an out-of-control elevator.
Tony was out of ideas.
But then, a new voice joined the channel. On the H.A.M.M.E.R. Helicarrier, Norman Osborn had initiated the second line of defense. Under his command, a massive volley of missiles launched, a reverse meteor shower screaming up from the horizon.
The sky became a maelstrom of explosions. The intense bombing slowed the Chitauri's descent, buying them precious seconds.
And then, the shield began to form.
Like a bubble expanding at impossible speeds, the huge network of energy converged. It was as swift as a ripple in a pond. The next moment, the azure plane of the shield solidified, slicing the colossal Leviathan cleanly in half.
The creature was finally, truly dead. Its lower half began its fiery descent to the planet below, while the upper half, caught on the shield, slowly disintegrated into dust under the intense heat.
A wave of relief and excitement washed over the heroes. But for some, the battle was just beginning.
Peter, his eyes now Venom's, saw The Other still standing defiantly on the head of the falling wreckage, plummeting toward the Earth.
And Loki, alone in the silent space station, clutched the Casket of Ancient Winters, turned, and waited for the new portal that would bring the Black Order to his doorstep.
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