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The Red Skull had no way of knowing that Fini wasn't just acting to humor him; a part of Fini truly intended to keep the "Hydra Leader" card in his back pocket.
In other words, Fini was preparing for any eventuality.
After everything that had happened, Fini was done being lenient with the Space Stone. He was determined to "eat" the Tesseract; not even S.H.I.E.L.D., nor Asgard itself, could stop him!
Thus, preparing for a potential fallout with Nick Fury wasn't a bad move. Once he returned to Earth, if Nick Fury dared to withhold the Cube, Fini would simply pivot and join Hydra. He found it hard to believe that the Red Skull didn't have at least a few die-hard loyalists left in the shadows.
Recording the video was for evidence. Even if he only claimed the title of leader on paper, having a legitimate claim was what mattered most.
Of course, if everything went smoothly, Fini would just remain a "Leader of One" in solitude and tell no one. If he had to deal with Hydra later, he could just treat it as "cleaning house" without it affecting his current heroic reputation.
The Red Skull was oblivious to these calculations. The moment the video finished recording, he felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt lighter than he had in decades.
Fini tucked his phone away and, seeing the Red Skull looking a bit lost, stepped forward to offer some comfort. "Don't worry. When I get back, I'll keep an eye on Hydra for you."
"If the opportunity arises, I might even bring some people here to visit you."
The Red Skull didn't doubt Fini's words for a second. Between Fini's own miraculous abilities and that bald-headed teacher who had appeared out of nowhere, it was clear Fini had the potential to bridge the gap between worlds.
A flicker of genuine anticipation finally appeared on the Red Skull's face.
"Though, if they find out you're this weak, they might be a bit embarrassed to call you 'Founder'," Fini added, giving him a little verbal jab to keep him motivated.
"That is only because you are too strong," the Red Skull retorted, not taking the bait. He still harbored doubts as to whether Earth had truly changed that much, or if Fini was simply an extreme outlier.
Despite his words, the Red Skull no longer resisted their training sessions. If it was possible to get stronger, he wanted to grasp that power for himself.
Oddly enough, after "passing the torch" of leadership, the Red Skull's combat performance actually improved. This surprised Fini; had he known, he would have accepted the title months ago.
Even with his increased strength, however, the Red Skull was still no match for Fini. Every battle ended the same way: in the old soldier's defeat.
At the end of a long day of fighting, Fini summoned the Blue-Eyes White Dragon to prepare its meal. This task was far more taxing than the fighting itself.
He had to calm his mind, clear all stray thoughts, and then use Ars Magna to gather the stray energy floating around the planet. At the same time, he had to conceptualize and compress that energy into a small sphere that mimicked the output of an Arc Reactor.
The slightest error in focus would cause the process to fail.
After a long period of intense concentration, Fini let out a long breath and tossed the glowing energy sphere to the dragon. After three months of this feeding regimen, the third star on the Blue-Eyes White Dragon's card was now vividly clear. Evolution was close.
Fini was desperate for it to reach Rank 3. He planned that once it evolved again, he would try to let it absorb energy directly from the Soul Stone. If it could handle the power of an Infinity Stone, he'd never have to worry about "dragon kibble" again, and he could finally see the true power of the legendary dragon.
Time marched on.
While Fini was steadily building his strength on Vormir, at the far reaches of the universe, a certain prince was living a much more difficult life.
"I am a God! The rightful King of Asgard!"
Loki clenched his fists, roaring in fury at the bizarre creature lunging toward him.
"Roar!"
The creature roared back—whatever it was saying, it wasn't an apology. It lunged forward with its maw wide open, but as it went to sink its teeth into Loki's neck, it passed right through him.
A split second later, a spear pierced through the creature's open mouth, pinning its head to the ground in a gruesome display.
"So, you truly have no concept of the power of a God," the real Loki said, stepping out from the shadows. He looked at the twitching carcass with a expression of pure disgust.
Thoughts of Asgardian delicacies crossed his mind, and his face momentarily softened with longing.
Loki pulled out a dagger, expertly butchered the creature, and used a bit of magic to start a fire for dinner. But just as he was settling in, a sudden bolt of lightning cracked across the dark sky.
Loki flinched violently, staring up at the gloomy heavens. His mind raced back to the events of eight months ago—the events that had cast him down into this wretched place.
"I was the one who was right!" he screamed at the sky, his face a twisted mask of hatred, jealousy, and despair.
Just as his echo faded, a bolt of energy slammed into him from the side, sending him tumbling across the dirt. This time, he hadn't been prepared with a protective spell.
Fortunately, his Frost Giant physiology was sturdy; he took the hit and scrambled up, relatively unharmed but furious.
Loki didn't have time to dwell on his existential crisis. He dove for cover and looked toward the source of the blast. It was a Chitauri—judging by the armor, a scout.
Loki knew of the Chitauri; they were an infamous, invasive species feared throughout the cosmos. He hadn't expected to run into them in this godforsaken corner of the universe. To him, however, this was a stroke of luck. He had been drifting for eight months since falling from the Bifrost; he finally had a way off this rock.
"Hey!"
Loki projected an illusion of himself, walking out with his hands raised to show he was unarmed, intending to negotiate.
But the Chitauri weren't known for their conversational skills. Before Loki could utter a word, the soldier raised its rifle and fired. The bolt passed through the illusion and struck a rock behind it.
Loki gave up on the diplomatic approach. He noticed the soldier was carrying a tracking and communication device. The Chitauri were a hive-minded race that lived on massive motherships rather than a home planet, always ready to invade the next world. If there was a scout here, a mothership had to be nearby.
Dispatching a single Chitauri soldier was child's play for a self-proclaimed God, even one who had been living like a scavenger for months.
After retrieving the map and tracking device from the corpse, Loki abandoned his dinner and hurried toward the indicated coordinates. When he finally saw the massive, leviathan-like mothership looming in the sky, a wicked, elegant smile spread across his face. He had a plan.
Using his mastery of magic and deception, Loki successfully slipped onto the mothership.
He made his way cautiously toward the command center, intending to seize control of the Chitauri leader. However, before he could make his move, he was detected.
"Who goes there!?"
The leaders of the Chitauri weren't pushovers, and Loki—having drifted for eight months, starving and exhausted—was at his weakest.
Loki lost. He was humiliated and brought to his knees by the Chitauri commander.
But just as the commander prepared to execute him, ignoring Loki's silver-tongued attempts at manipulation, a priority transmission flashed on the console.
Seeing the source of the message, the Chitauri commander froze. Forgetting about Loki for a moment, he quickly activated a restraint device on the prince and rushed to answer the call.
(End of Chapter)