Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The cup of coffee was warm between his hands. It helped him not to get distracted, not to get lost in his thoughts while gazing at the blue sky, which, more than ever, gave him an immense sense of calm.
He could hear the quick steps of squirrels against the damp earth, the chirping of sparrows floating through the air like a song of good omen. The distant conversations of the servants, who tried to move carefully so as not to disturb, reached his ears.

Compared to the forest where he had been training lately and the park that Radgridr enjoyed for picnics in sweet company, this place felt unreal. Every living being emitted a distinct light, assumed a clear value: it was as if, within a painting, all the depicted subjects were the indisputable protagonists.
Joyfully, the colors shifted and took on various forms before his eyes, but it was precisely the clarity of the sky that had impressed him.

Once, Loki had told him that his soul was blue and immaculate like the sky on a warm summer day. And reflecting on that compliment, Simo could not understand how Loki was capable of surprising him in such a way. With every sweet word and kind phrase directed at him, he made him feel, without a doubt, like the happiest person in the world.

But did he deserve that happiness? And how long would it last, still?

He couldn’t stop asking himself.

-Ah, my love, you make me jealous like this.-

-How?-

Simo lowered his gaze again, dedicating it entirely to the god he felt he loved with an intensity so great it hurt in his heart.

Loki’s luminous violet eyes quickly reflected in his own, and his lips did not hesitate for a moment to gift him the most genuine and loving smile. The features of his face had softened, and the index finger and thumb of his right hand began, with the silver spoon, to create a harmonious clinking against the cup of coffee filled with bits of cheese that Loki was also drinking.

-You’re staring at the sky so intensely, ignoring me. That makes me sad.-

Simo gripped his cup, whose rim was still pristine. Lately, he had been carried away too much by assumptions and possible futures, to the point of not being able to savor the present carefully.
If before it was the past that stained his existence, making it dirty and full of guilt, the future intimidated him so that he wouldn’t expect, because his sins would not go unpunished. Not much time left.

-Forgive me.- he murmured, interrupting their exchange of glances to stop and focus on his kaffeöst: -I didn’t mean to ruin our conversation.-

He did not notice the sadness that had dimmed his eyes, but Loki, who was particularly attentive to his needs, did not miss it. His eyes grew sad, and his half-empty cup was abandoned on the table’s surface.

-You haven’t ruined anything! I was just joking…-

-Mh.- he had created an unpleasant situation, and Simo didn’t know how to fix it.

Kaffeöst was a typical drink from his homeland, and its contrast of flavors had won Loki over in small sips. Until a few minutes ago, the god had been savoring it contentedly.
It had been he who had prepared it for him for the first time, and who continued to prepare it whenever Loki wished, just to see him happy and pleased.

If he didn’t want to worry him, he had to try to bring back his smile.

-Simo… I’ve wanted to ask you this for a while, but we haven’t had the chance to address it. That bastard, what has he—.-

-I want to marry you.-

He hadn’t meant to make that declaration so abruptly, but his feelings had spoken for him.
He had allowed his cheeks to take on a deep, burning red, and his heart to pound furiously against his chest, partly grateful for the opportune moment he had managed to seize.

Ragnarök was an unpleasant event, full of death and evoking painful memories, yet with Loki by his side, everything - the guilt of the past, the anxieties about the future - became more bearable.
He could no longer do without him.

-You are a god, and I am a human being. I know it well. It is not certain that Odin would agree to our union, and rumors about us would spread everywhere. But I wouldn’t care. I want to give back all the love you’ve offered me over these years without any remorse.- Simo narrowed his eyes, noticing through the coffee his own blush: -I love you, and I want to show it. But if making our relationship public would cause you problems, I am willing to respect your wishes and do nothing.-

The distant voices of the servants had disappeared, the squirrels had retreated to their burrows, and the little birds had finished their cheerful singing. The deep breathing of Kille, who was sleeping a few meters away, was the only familiar sound vibrating in his ears. From Loki, no sigh was emitted, nor did the spoon that had been twirling in the coffee for a long time produce that rhythmic clinking.

-I acted hastily. I failed.- Simo reproached himself: -In half an hour, I’ve been rude twice in a row. It’s better to apologize and answer the question I interrupted.-

-Loki.- Simo lifted his gaze again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed: -I… I don’t—.-

But his words hung suspended in the air.

Loki’s cheeks had taken on a deeper red compared to the one that had spread across Simo’s own. His eyes were wide open, lips slightly parted. The spoon had been carefully set down on the cup, and his uneven breathing began reaching Simo’s ears.
He had never seen him so beautiful in his vulnerability.

-Simo.- his name was uttered with a tremor: -D-Do you… really intend to marry me?-

-Yes.- there was no room for doubt: -At the end of Ragnarök, if possible, I would like to join you in a wedding rite.-

-A-And you… don’t tell me you were planning to—?- Loki was incapable of forming coherent speech. Overwhelming joy had undone him.

-I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, yes.-

“But I didn’t think I would propose it today.”

Nervously interlacing his fingers, Simo felt exposed. Love had changed him irreversibly, and the fortune of being loved in return had given him the strength to move forward. Even if Loki rejected him… even if he said he wasn’t ready… just having him by his side was enough.

-But if you don’t want to, I won’t—.-

His strong instincts had never failed him. They had always driven him to remain alert, attentive to surrounding sounds and small changes. Yet Loki could neutralize them. Not with schemes or well-planned jokes, not with sudden whims or improvised displays of affection: with actions guided by his heart, with that sincerity he reserved only for him.
That was why, even though his experience as an infallible sharpshooter had made him legendary, he still failed to notice the sound of Loki’s chair toppling backward onto the floor. And when he did, the god of Mischief’s arms were already wrapped around him, his face buried in Simo’s shoulder.

-Loki…-

His heart raced.
He heard restrained sobs, the hug grow more needy, and he let him hold on. He lifted his arms to return the embrace and closed his eyes, at peace.

He hadn’t felt such relief since death had brushed past him.

-Not even if I lost my mind… would I give you up.- Loki murmured, barely suppressing a few ragged sighs: -Being able to have you with me is all that matters. I love you, Simo. I desire you too much. And being able to marry you… to tell everyone that you are m-mine…- another sob shook him.

Simo narrowed his eyes, touched. One hand caressed Loki’s back, and without feeling the need to speak, he listened to his ragged breathing and constant trembling, aware of how much Loki’s will aligned with his own.

After a few minutes of intimate silence, Loki slowly released the hug. A small tear had gotten trapped in his lashes, and Simo wiped it away with his thumb, earning a grateful smile.

-A-Ah… Simo… y-you made me cry.-

Beneath the balaclava, a small smile appeared on Simo’s lips: -It wasn’t my intention.-

-Y-You must take responsibility. It happened, and it’s your fault—.-

-And how do you plan to punish me for showing such insolence?- there was a note of challenge in his voice.

-I’ll have to think about it. But first…- Loki gently stroked one of Simo’s cheekbones with his thumb, bringing it down to the balaclava to remove it: -I have something else to do.-

-And what would that be?-

Simo’s scar was beautiful. On one hand, he didn’t agree with the decision to keep it hidden, but on the other, knowing he could gaze upon every inch in secret, kiss it, and love it, intoxicated him. Just as he was intoxicated by Simo’s warmth and sweetness in confiding in him.

Loki approached his lips cautiously, allowing himself to be hypnotized by his dark, magnetic eyes that immersed him in a love without borders.

-Can’t you imagine it?- he whispered before pressing against his lips.

Simo closed his eyes, returning the kiss with equal need, feeling Loki’s tongue seeking his without pause. He couldn’t hold his breath for long, but when they parted, he recovered it as best he could to make the kisses endless.
He delighted in Loki’s sighs, which were no longer sad, now full of pleasure. He relished the god’s arms that insistently drew him close again.

-Ragnarök will end soon…- Loki murmured against his lips: -…we can already think about the ceremony, how it will unfold… and our vows.-

-Do you want us to prepare speeches? But then there wouldn’t be any surprise.-

-It was just a suggestion. I wanted to get an idea of what the most important day of my life will be like.-

-We haven’t even set a date yet.- Simo observed, amused.

-That’s true, but by next week, I’d say it will be more than fine.-

-By next week? Isn’t that too soon?-

-I wouldn’t say so.- Loki placed a kiss on his lips. And another, and yet another: -Besides, seven days is a sadistic wait. If I waited longer, the pain would be immense.-

“As usual, he’s trying to fulfill his whims as quickly as possible…” Simo absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair, relaxing as he touched it: “It’s my fault for letting him.”

-Would it really be possible?-

-What, Simuna?-

-To prepare a wedding in a week.-

Loki laughed: -For divinities, nothing is impossible. You saw it with the sands of the previous battles, right? For instance, to build that faithful recreation of London for the fourth round, it took less than ten minutes. Imagine if the place for our wedding won’t be ready in just five!-

-And the guests? And the food?-

-I don’t care. But if you want to invite someone in particular, that’s fine, as long as you smile. And for the food, there are the cooks! I’ll make them prepare a gigantic cake that respects our tastes.-

Simo smiled again as Loki’s lips rested on his. Another kiss, longer and more restrained than the previous ones.

-You’re already thinking about everything, huh?-

-You’ve made me immensely happy, and these are the consequences.- with his index finger, Loki gave small affectionate taps on his forehead: -You can’t back out now!~-

-And I don’t want to.- Simo held both of Loki’s hands, intertwining them with his, sparing his forehead from those little taps.

His mind, like Loki’s, traveled further: imagining the day of their wedding, exchanging rings, vowing eternal love with smiles and tender glances. The guests were few but perfect for a private ceremony. Their cake, contrary to Loki’s imagination, was simple and white, and the ceremony took place in an indoor setting, with neutral-colored decorations that added to the sacredness.

He didn’t have many demands. What mattered was that, that day, for him and Loki, it would be unforgettable.

Without breaking the contact between their hands, Loki brought his face closer to Simo’s to rest his forehead against his. He would have been content simply feeling his breath, giving his lips the deserved rest.

-Simo, have I told you I love you?-

Simo closed his eyes, feeling the synchronized beat of their hearts and breaths: -You say it very often.- a smile appeared on his lips: -But I love you too. Very much.-

He had not forgotten Grigorij Rasputin’s warnings. Ragnarök was a real threat, and humanity’s fate balanced between destruction and salvation.
Loki incessantly reassured him that the gods would soon prevail, that he would be forgiven. They had argued before, and he didn’t want it to happen again, but he wished for the other Einherjar to win, that his own time to descend to the battlefield would never come.

The weight of another ruined life would not have tormented him. And he and Loki, far from external conflicts and divergences, would have loved and respected each other in complete serenity.
Little was needed to be happy, and Simo wanted to believe it.

But between illusions and reality, there is a vast, insurmountable difference.
And in this, Earth and the Beyond make no distinctions.

{Marrying Simo is a dream that is about to come true. He was the one who took the initiative, who proposed that we unite even more! Physical pleasure, mere companionship, our conversations… are no longer enough. We share the aspiration to be completely connected. And this… is incredible.
Even now, I feel my heart bursting with joy.
[…]
Oh, my sweet Simuna… how do you always manage to make me so happy?
[…]
I want to buy you a ring. It will have to be the most beautiful of all. I’ve already thought about a material, but I don’t want it to be anything trivial. It must be something special, of incalculable value. Like you.
A gift that can help keep the smile engraved on your lips, even when I’m not there.}

-I didn’t think you’d be willing to meet someone like me, Hilde… what brings on this request to see me again?-

Showing him the most annoyed expression she could muster, Loki crossed his legs after sitting on the edge of the fountain, next to someone he had once considered his best friend.
It had been ages since he had been this close to her, since he had felt Brunhilde’s need to confide in him. The sound of water gushing behind them did nothing to calm him, and the sadness on the Valkyrie’s face left him unmoved.

The distant echo of laughter and smiles resonated sharply in his mind.
In memories where love and Simo were not yet part of his life, Loki saw himself smiling, one hand on his stomach, with laughter spreading through the air, accompanied by Brunhilde’s equally lively laughter.
Jokes and fun had been a significant part of his daily life, and Brunhilde’s smile had been a priceless treasure to keep.
He had believed they would never stop smiling and loving each other. That falling in love with someone else wouldn’t separate them.
But it didn’t happen that way.

Siegfried entered Brunhilde’s life without warning, and although his beloved Valkyrie had never neglected him, the distance between them became inevitable.
In love, and with a different kind of smile - one she had never given him before - Brunhilde preferred to stroll alone with the heroic demigod rather than follow the thread of his witty and inventive jokes. She always laughed when she witnessed one, but that shy, genuine smile never appeared. It remained hidden, waiting for Siegfried’s arrival and his unbearably boring conversations, his pathetic existence.

-One day I’ll introduce you to him. I’m sure you’ll get along very well!-

He had proposed it once, with an unusual golden feather clasp in her hair. And his perfect world with Brunhilde had crumbled; jealousy had taken over.
Just the thought of never seeing her smile again, that one day it would be taken from him, that Brunhilde would marry and leave him behind… no, it was unacceptable.
He would rather tear out his own heart than accept such an unfair fate.
And condemning Siegfried had been as simple as drinking a glass of water: with Fafnir’s senseless death, Odin grew furious and condemned him to the depths of Tartarus, trusting the inexperienced eyes of a young maiden unable to distinguish truth from lies, to see the false Siegfried instead of the real one.

It disgusted him to take Siegfried’s form, but it had been an essential step in carrying out his sadistic plan. He had gotten rid of Siegfried, and joy had foolishly led him to approach Brunhilde to recover their shared laughter without anyone standing in his way.
And he had failed.
Brunhilde’s piercing gaze soon silenced him, and the smile never returned to her lips. They didn’t speak, didn’t laugh at Ares’ strange faces or Thor’s exaggerated impassivity.

Siegfried had vanished, taking those fragments of happy memories with him.

Over the centuries and millennia, he refused to face his guilt. No one knew, and although it was better that way, even though Brunhilde’s green, judging eyes accused him of unspoken suspicions, it was discovering that he was in love with Simo that made a deep sense of guilt bloom within him.
Because if anyone dared to take Simo from him, there would be a massacre. He would forgive no one and would go after him. He would hate the culprit, torture them, kill them. He would erase them.

Knowing that it could be the same for Brunhilde stunned him with pain. Just as it was stunning him there and now, with her nearby. And Simo, who had gotten up early to train, would not be there to support him.

-…w-what’s with the long face? Did something happen? Or…- Loki briefly looked upward, then, smiling, tilted his head forward: -Ah, no, I think I understand. You were reflecting on how wise it is to surrender, right? Undoubtedly, the surviving Einherjar have shown their courage by challenging us, but their victories are the result of a fortunate combination of excellent coincidences. They will not last forever. Our victory, the gods’, is inevitable, and many are beginning to understand that. Surrender would be the most sensible choice.-

Brunhilde stared at the grass beneath her feet. Whether she truly listened or not, Loki didn’t want to know. He felt that if he stopped speaking, some bad news would throw him into crisis.

-You’ve understood in the end, but don’t fear! In the name of our old friendship, I can speak to Odin about your salvation. I’ll have to speak to him about Simo again, so if I mention you at the same time, it won’t…-

-It’s about Simo.-

The god of Mischief felt short of breath. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes, to understand or ask what she meant; Simo’s name had been spoken with a calculated firmness that contrasted sharply with the sadness reflected in Brunhilde’s eyes.

-Simo won’t fight.- Loki jumped to his feet: -Whatever you want to say, you won’t make me—.-

Loki turned to her, surprised. The firmness with which she had grabbed his cloak left him breathless. And those eyes, full of emotions she usually hid, immobilized him.
They weren’t beautiful like Simo’s, nor did they shine like the genuine Brunhilde who had once thrown a watermelon at his face, but they reflected a confidence and hope that Loki didn’t think possible.

-Lord Loki…-

“Brunhilde still trusts me?”

Brunhilde knelt, her eyelids closed and her head bowed in reverence.

-I intend to have Simo Häyhä participate in the next round. Could he fight against him?-

At the thought, Loki didn’t know exactly what he felt in that moment.
The world had turned gray, dull, and paralyzed, he couldn’t stop staring at Brunhilde’s kneeling figure, clearly mocking him behind that desperate request. Simo’s name rang so loudly in his mind that it gave him a nauseating headache. His legs gave way, and Loki didn’t understand how he could still stand.

What he was experiencing had to be a nightmare.

-W-what…?- Loki suppressed a nervous laugh: -If this is a joke, it’s in very poor taste.-

But he knew it wasn’t. Brunhilde had forgotten what it meant to laugh until tears streamed and to push boundaries to make someone else laugh.

-Simo Häyhä can neutralize your deceptions, defeat them. There is no human more capable. Therefore, I beg you, allow them to face each other.-

-You’re sending me to my death.- the accusation burst out in anguish: -Against the person I love most.-

Now it was Brunhilde who didn’t have the courage to look him in the face: -Please, this is the only way to allow humanity to win.-

Loki pressed his fingers against his palms insistently, barely managing to restrain himself. His feet moved first timidly, then quickly toward an unspecified destination. To return to Simo? To reach the first isolated place he could find and destroy everything? He didn’t know. He had to leave before Brunhilde herself became the main target of his inner turmoil, of that crack in his heart that kept him from breathing normally.

-…I won’t let myself be killed. I’m not that stupid.-

-Lord Loki…-

-And Simo will not be involved. From now on, in this damned tournament, his name must never be considered!-

-Loki!-

-Ah, very funny.- Loki stopped, conjuring a red anemone in his right hand and a white lily in his left: -You’ve lost your composure. You forgot to say ‘Lord’ before speaking my name.-

-You can’t decide for Simo. I know he wants to fight and… I also know my request is selfish, but if humanity doesn’t win, no—.-

-“No” what? Speak clearly, once and for all.- with his left thumb and index, holding the lily with the remaining fingers, Loki began plucking the petals of the anemone one by one: -What am I saying, you always do the same. You mistreat others, neglect them, and then expect them to owe you everything you want. With your false benevolence, you manage to be even worse than Odin.-

-He wants to impose his will on him, but that won’t stop him.-

-And if it did? I protect him, I take care of him.- Loki didn’t fully turn, but Brunhilde shivered seeing how lightless his violet eyes were: -And you? It’s impossible that you don’t know the horrors he has faced, the guilt he carries on his shoulders. And among the available opponents, you plan to make him fight me? Seriously?-

-If he doesn’t fight you, he will die.-

-Then why did you choose him!?- interrupting the act of plucking the red petals, she let the remains of the flower fall to the ground: -He is a formidable sniper, who sets emotions aside to fulfill his duty. He has killed countless opponents, and you give him up!?-

Brunhilde had stopped insisting. Kneeling on the ground, she saw out of the corner of her eye how the ruined anemone was crushed under Loki’s shoe.

-You’re not telling me the truth. You’re hiding something, as always.- hissed the god of Mischief, crushing the flower further before walking back toward her: -Why are you doing this to me, Hilde?-

The growing urge to cry prevented Brunhilde from responding to these accusations.
She didn’t want to appear weak, didn’t want anyone else emotionally involved more than necessary. She had taken on the burden of making deplorable and questionable decisions, but… she wouldn’t emotionally involve the one she loved. No matter how much Loki despised her, no matter how much she had pushed him away… she couldn’t burden him with a truth that would surely shatter his unshakeable certainty.
She couldn’t tell him that Odin planned to kill every living being to restore a primal, malignant Chaos, to primordial deities without a trace of remorse or empathy. Otherwise, all her efforts would be in vain, and the sacrifice of those brave warriors fallen in battle would lose all meaning.

-If this is the decision you have made, Lord Loki… I am no one to make you change your mind.- the Valkyrie continued, striving to keep her voice neutral: -However, in doing so, you will condemn Simo Häyhä to certain death.-

Loki kept his gaze fixed on the white lily, admiring the pure whiteness of its petals that so reminded him of the purity of his beloved’s eyes.

-If he cares about his health and happiness…- Brunhilde struggled to contain a trembling sigh: -he would do well to pay attention to me.-

-There’s nothing more you can say.- Loki stopped just a few inches from her, trying to meet her eyes but finding no corresponding intent on the other side: -No one will take me to Simo, let that be clear. Especially not you.-

Although her face remained turned toward the ground, Brunhilde was taken aback by the white lily right in front of her nose. It gave off a pleasant fragrance, and its petals were a snowy white she didn’t see every day. The more she looked at it, the more it felt as if snow had fallen on it and settled on its large petals.

-Eh…?-

-Look at it. Isn’t it beautiful?- Loki knelt in front of her, forcing her to pay more attention: -It has become my favorite flower. I had thought of decorating an entire hall with countless white lilies for my wedding, but you want to ruin this happiness of mine too, when I’ve always done everything possible to maintain yours.-

-Wedding?- the word stirred something in Brunhilde, otherwise she wouldn’t have lifted her gaze, nor looked at him with glassy, saddened eyes: -Loki… I don’t—.-

Loki jumped to his feet, with no intention of giving her the white lily or listening any further: -You should start calling me “Lord Loki” again. You’ve stopped considering me a friend, remember?-

But Brunhilde didn’t respond. Confirming it would have meant breaking an idyllic relationship that had made them very happy, and she didn’t want to deprive herself of the memory of another cherished smile.

-I thank you for granting my request.-

She was probably truly thanking him from her heart for agreeing to meet and talk. But to Loki, that gratitude seemed like a bland heap of lies, specially crafted to trap and manipulate him.

-You must be very desperate.- Loki commented, lightly touching two of the lily’s petals with his fingertips.

As he walked away, Brunhilde couldn’t miss the ruthless way he had destroyed the anemone, which had at that moment become a jumble of ruined petals. The white lily, on the other hand, remained vibrant and pure, allowing the sunlight to enhance its beauty.

One bond had been severed, but the other, still intact, beat on, ready to continue germinating and blooming in its fullest splendor.

{Hilde, you’re an idiot. If you think I’ll harm my Simo, that I’ll let myself be killed stupidly, you don’t know me at all!
Abandoning him and dying would mean leaving him, never seeing him again, never hearing his voice. And I don’t want a final death without him by my side.
You’d do well to play your next cards more carefully, because the next time I find you, I swear I’ll kill you!
I’ll kill you and that piece of trash who tries to take him from me!}

Simo was aware that something had happened. He couldn’t attribute it solely to exhaustion.
He felt a strange anguish pressing on his chest, and the dizziness kept him from holding his balance as the little rabbit just a few steps ahead of him began to blur.

-I must go…- he whispered to himself, hearing how the sounds of the forest quieted as he walked.

Dusk was about to fall and he had not yet returned. Loki must be waiting for him, and although it felt strange that he hadn’t come looking for him of his own accord as he usually did, this time Simo wouldn’t simply scold him. Seeing him so fatigued would surely enrage him, and Simo didn’t want that to happen.

But… why did he have the ominous feeling that Loki was enduring a pain, both physical and mental, far greater than his own?

“He said he had matters to attend to. Did he find someone?”

He disliked making assumptions, but if something had happened to Loki in his absence, he would never forgive himself.
Loki was always there for him, to console and support him, and he had to do the same. That was his responsibility too.

“He promised me he wouldn’t see that Rasputin again. Then why do I feel no peace at all?”

He wanted to find him and ask how he was, hurry to reach him, but a melodious chant stopped him.
As he halted his steps, Simo clearly realized how the forest had chosen, after a few moments, to fall into a tacit and sacred silence.
Not even the crunch of branches beneath Kille’s paws could restore nature’s melodies.

“That voice… I know it.”

Simo closed his eyes, trying to restore calm to his spirit. The song entered directly into his heart, preventing him from curling up in pain over a wound that hadn’t been inflicted on him.
Kille perked up his ears and turned toward the melody. Without rushing ahead, he waited until Simo opened his eyes so he could follow side by side. And Simo wasn’t surprised to see how many animals had been drawn by that heavenly singing, how birds and deer stood motionless, watching the young woman as she sang and sipped a cup of hot tea.

Radgridr had noticed their arrival, but not his. With half-closed eyes, she was clearly waiting. And for Simo, it wasn’t hard to understand that his friend had come there for him.

-Is this a summons?- he asked in a calm tone, making her flinch slightly. The animals that had approached her, their song interrupted, fled.

-Simo… how long have you been here? I didn’t see you arrive.- leaving the empty teacup on its saucer, Radgridr stood, adjusting the folds of her dress.

-I didn’t want to take you by surprise.-

-Don’t take it the wrong way. I’m the one who got carried away by all this tranquility.- the twelfth valkyrie straightened, raising her right hand to her forehead in a military salute: -I came to find you because we’ve been summoned. In the next round, it will be us who must fight to protect all of humanity.-

-Loki won’t be pleased.- that must have been the bad premonition he’d had. Facing Loki, once again, would be very difficult: -But I can’t avoid it.-

Returning the salute, Simo looked into Radgridr’s eyes, fully aware that the time had come to fulfill the role assigned to him.

-Let’s go protect our homeland.-

The summons had arrived a day early, but Simo knew that in the last few hours left before his battle, he would think of nothing but the life he would have to take in order to defend all of humanity and that which was dearest to him. He would have Loki to console him, to offer him all the support he needed, but nothing could take away the painful weight of killing someone. He would carry with him a suffering impossible to heal, and he still didn’t feel ready to reopen a wound that, though never truly closed, no longer cut off his breath with pain.
And because of that, Loki would never allow himself to yield and would stand firm in his resolve not to let him fight. Simo knew him well.

-Simo? Has something happened?- Radgridr asked, surprised to see how his gaze had taken on shades of sadness and thoughtfulness.

-Loki.- just saying that name was enough to make her part of the conflict he was living.

-…Loki loves you very much. I see it in the way he looks at you: you are the center of his universe.- Radgridr lowered the hand she had placed on her forehead, to her side: -And it’s because he loves you that he will try to be understanding.-

-I’m afraid of hurting him.-

-You won’t.- the kind valkyrie reassured him: -He will accept your will and wait for your return. I can’t deny that, knowing him, he’ll worry himself sick, but…- Radgridr stepped closer to delicately take his hands: -Your victory will fill him with pride.-

-Yes…- imagining Loki’s smiling face running toward him after his victory, embracing him warmly, made Simo smile beneath his balaclava: -He’ll be happy.-

-If you’re aware of that, focus on your happiness together and on the peace that awaits you both.-

-Loki’s turn is also drawing near.-

-When his time comes, you’ll show him your support.- Radgridr reassured him again, kindly: -Don’t let yourself be affected by events that haven’t happened yet, Simo. Let’s focus on our mission.-

Simo nodded and, after bidding her farewell, headed toward the enormous structure where Loki was waiting for him, along with what they could consider their personal and cozy room.
He avoided passing through the corridor where Rasputin’s cell was located - it was becoming a habit - and paid little attention to the growl of his stomach.

The urgency to reach Loki took priority, and his heart was beating fast, making him feel as though he were about to reunite with the god he loved after months, not just a few hours of separation.

But his unusual impatience turned into pure surprise when he realized the door to their room was ajar.
Entering silently, he noticed everything was perfectly tidy. There were two plates and two glasses on the table, but they were empty. Kille’s food and water bowls were full and placed on the floor, but not in their usual spots, as though hastily arranged.

-Loki?-

It wasn’t like Loki to neglect doing something that would make him happy. It wasn’t like him not to welcome him festively, embracing him and showering him with kisses. He was extremely quiet, and that… was profoundly strange.

-He must be here. He couldn’t have gone.-

Simo looked around, watching Kille lie down on the couch in the small living room, and only felt his heart lighten when he saw the bedroom’s door-window open. Stepping outside, he found himself gazing at Loki’s cloak fluttering, green strands of his hair covering his face steeped in melancholy. With his eyes he captured the moving clouds, and his shoulders relaxed as he felt Simo’s arrival. In his reserve, the god of Deception was more genuine than ever.

-I was looking for you.- Simo said, overwhelmed by powerful emotions. For some reason, the fear of not being able to find him had left him vulnerable.

-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.- the apology was sincere, but it wasn’t enough.

Simo’s dark eyes clouded with concern: -Loki… what…?-

-I learned that you’ll be fighting tomorrow.-

He hadn’t expected the news to spread so quickly. And that Loki, of all people, would be one of the first to know.
Simo took a few steps forward. He had wanted to tell him in person, but now there was no point in stalling.

-And I will return to you.- Simo’s voice rang cold and full of determination.

-I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.- Loki replied at once, perhaps with less apprehension than he had shown lately: -And do you know who your opponent will be?-

-No.- the sniper’s answer was just as quick and curt: -I don’t know my adversary’s identity.-

-You’ll have the element of surprise… that’s Brunhilde’s doing, isn’t it?-

-Brunhilde?- Simo stepped closer to get a better look at him: -Shouldn’t it be Zeus who decides who will be the gods’ next representative?-

Leaning on the railing, Loki finally decided to turn toward him. A sweet, contagious smile once again drew itself across his lips, restoring the usual lively gleam to his eyes.

-Yes, if only someone actually cared to listen to that fool!- with one arm, Loki wrapped around Simo’s shoulders, placing a kiss on his forehead: -And in a way, it’s a good thing: your opponent knows who you are, you don’t. You’ll have the chance to surprise him with your skills and kill him before he even has the stupid hope of defeating you.-

-Only you could see that as a benefit.-

-It’s because I have enormous expectations of you.- Loki said, winking.

It was clear Loki was doing everything possible to keep both their spirits high. And it was unthinkable that he had truly changed his mindset, suppressing his fears of losing him and being left alone.

Days earlier, the argument they had had exposed their vulnerabilities, leading Loki to reveal his constant paranoia of being abandoned, and Simo to make him understand, albeit indirectly, just how much Loki’s feelings could disturb and affect him.
The love binding them was strong and very dangerous. If they didn’t support each other, if they didn’t believe in themselves, who else could?

-Well then, my precious god of trust. How about we go back inside? Dinner time is near.-

-“God of trust”… not a bad nickname, as long as it applies only in reference to you.-

Simo allowed himself to smile, stepping back into their room. A sweet, lingering scent enveloped him, giving him a sense of security that only Loki’s presence could provide. Presence that was soon completed by Loki’s arms wrapping around him from behind in an embrace.
Simo felt Loki’s heart beating strongly against his back.

-Do you like them?- Simo shivered. Against his ear, Loki’s voice sounded warm and sensual, yearning.

With careful glances, he tried to discover where that sweet aroma came from. On the third attempt, his eyes fell on one of the two nightstands beside their bed, finding a white ceramic vase decorated with gold patterns of a snake and a little dog with their backs turned to each other, and yet, together, keeping other animals at bay.
Simo gently caressed Loki’s hand, inviting him to let go, a request he granted so that he could reach the object that had stirred such curiosity. He smiled at the two animals, pausing first on the dog: its appearance reminded him of Kille, but he had the impression that, even in its attempt at defense, it possessed an unusual, deadly calm. The snake, on the other hand, was coiled upon itself, its mouth open, tongue brimming with venom.

“That’s us two.”

Simo’s smile deepened. When Loki showed his love, he was incredibly creative.
And terribly sweet, as proven by the many white lilies contained in the vase. Simo narrowed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the intense fragrance emanating from them.

Only Loki could have thought to associate him with such a pure and beautiful flower.

-First the northern lights, and now this… if you keep showering me with gifts, I’ll never be able to repay you properly.-

-Consider it an early gift for your victory.- Loki reached him in just a few steps: -Strike down your enemy like that dog does, and return to me.-

-I had already guessed. The two animals depicted are a representation of us.-

Loki chuckled softly: -Perhaps.-

-And the white lilies represent me as well.-

Loki looked at the white lilies with disarming tenderness. He was thinking of him even when he was right beside him: -You’re learning quickly the meaning of my gifts. You have a great talent for deciphering me.-

-But this isn’t right.-

Loki, who was trying to embrace him from behind, looked at him in surprise, his arms left extended into the empty air.

Simo had taken the vase to place it on the dresser they shared, right in front of the bed, against the wall. Counting the number of flowers in his head, he briefly shifted some to one side to see how much space the vase could still occupy. And in that silent analysis, he obtained confirmation.

-What is it that doesn’t convince you?- Loki asked, unable to wait any longer for an explanation.

-There are no flowers to represent you. That’s not right.- Simo clarified, without turning to see how his astonishment was turning into bewilderment and wonder: -These lilies also deserve to be accompanied by a life worthy of their beauty. By flowers that offer a striking representation of yours.-

Simo noticed Loki’s steps approaching again, but decided to ask his opinion before anything else: -What do you think of cornflowers? They come in many colors, but violet is surely the closest to the intense shade of your eyes.- he carefully returned the flowers to their original position, making sure not to damage them: -Unfortunately, I’m not as skilled as you in the language of flowers, but I can research and see if it’s the most suitable choice.-

-You couldn’t have made a better choice.-

Simo finally turned to him: -Is it one of your favorite flowers now?-

Driven by the innocence of his question and the tenderness shining in his eyes, Loki pinned him against the dresser to kiss him intensely, instinctively placing his hand near the vase. He felt Simo shiver in his arms, yielding, opening his mouth so their tongues could meet.
Dinner preparations, the gift, the flowers, the imminent arrival of the eleventh round, all of it vanished. There was only them.

-You personally chose the cornflower… for me.- Loki sighed against his lips, his ragged breath mingling with Simo’s: -That’s why it’s become my favorite flower.-

-You shouldn’t base your tastes on what I say.- but Simo would have been a liar if he denied that Loki’s words had set his cheeks ablaze with a blush that would not soon fade.

-Don’t tell me you don’t like it.- Loki slowly licked his lips, as though savoring his taste: -Because I don’t believe it.-

Simo’s blush deepened immensely. And Loki, without laughing or smiling in satisfaction, simply drank in his lover’s vulnerable, enamored expression.

|Simo Häyhä can neutralize your tricks, defeat them. There is no human more fit. Therefore, I beg you, allow it to be him you face.|

Loki’s stomach churned with betrayal and disgust. How could Brunhilde even propose harming that man, so good and precious? How could she even imagine inflicting on him a single scratch, or a mortal wound? At the very thought, an impulse to vomit welled up from his gut.
His arms latched onto Simo again, in search of a happiness he longed to make immortal.
His stubbornness to protect him grew, and his love consumed him irreversibly.

-I love you, Simo.- Loki’s lips descended on the sniper’s neck, kissing and biting it with reverence: -I can’t wait.-

-Loki…- Simo was forced to tilt his head back to give greater access to the god, determined to fulfill his desire: -We have the whole night to love and be one…- a brief sigh of pleasure escaped his lips as Loki left slower, deeper kisses along his skin: -I need to prepare dinner.- he tried to remind him.

-We can ask the servants to prepare it for us. Tell them what we want to eat while we become one again.-

Simo’s eyes clouded with uncertainty: -I don’t like taking advantage of others.-

-Simo…- trapped in his gaze, Simo realized just how much Loki was pleading with him. The concern he felt for him must have been blinding him: -I beg you.-

Loki wanted a night of passion before seeing him fight. He wanted to love him, kiss him, and protect him so he wouldn’t have to think about how the next day someone might hurt him, threaten his life. And Simo knew that, given the chance, Loki would throw himself into the arena to personally destroy any opponent who dared wound him.
That was his weakness, his Achilles’ heel… and Simo himself wouldn’t know what to do in the same situation. That’s why he understood him better than anyone.

-…alright.- he finally agreed, unable to say anything more while Loki’s strong, muscular arms continued to hold him, carrying him toward their bed.

-Thank you.- Loki thanked him with both words and deeds, pressing his lips to his in a kiss that, though sealed, was anything but chaste: -We’ll take care of that later. For now, it’s another kind of hunger that consumes me…-

Simo didn't have the will to respond immediately. Loki's hands were hungry, attacking his body mercilessly, stripping his of his uniform before he could even change position. They had limited themselves to kisses, but their panting mouths expressed an immense and passionate desire.
Without letting rationality influence him, Simo sank completely into the bed sheets, grabbing Loki's hair and kissing him passionately the precise moment his pants were pulled down.

Loki's tongue licked and caressed him soft thighs, leaving a trail of saliva that was endlessly taken and retrieved. Loki's mouth, freeing Simo's erection from the remaining garment, stopped: it remained half-closed, only after a quick contemplation did it reopen to receive it in his mouth, taking it deeper and deeper and licking it hungrily from the shaft to the tip, already moistened with precum.

-L-Loki... ngh!- he loved feeling the Norse's need against his skin, but if he was already losing control, he couldn't imagine what might happen when they entered the heart of that passionate love.

His hands gripped tightly into the other's green hair, and Simo continued to moan nonstop. Loki was still fully clothed, which could only mean one thing: he was going to take it slow.

-You're so good...- Loki sighed against his erection, capturing it in his mouth again, causing Simo to moan deeper: -And all for me. Forever.-

The sound of Loki's mouth moving hungrily filled the walls of the room. And it was when a hotter lick than the previous ones grazed the tip of his erection that Simo felt a wave of absolute pleasure, and his semen splattered all over Loki without warning, staining his face a little. And swallowing the semen that had ended up in his mouth, the God of Mischief removed the residue from his chin and cheeks with his tongue, like a cat taking its time to clean itself properly.
Seeing him, Simo's cheeks were redder than usual.

-Mmh... we still have many hours left. I want to make the most of them.-

Simo glanced distractedly at the clock on the wall: it was barely 7:30 in the evening.

Loki, who loved watching Simo take the initiative and penetrate him, was stealing the show. The hands unbuttoning and removing his clothes were too slow and rhythmic to be a matter of chance. And his eyes, fixed on the sniper's, devoured him with incredible intensity, unlike the usual Loki, who enjoyed sex.

No. He was preparing to make that night endless. The most beautiful they had ever had.

-You're a fool.- Simo whispered, his heart pounding with love, sitting up and grabbing Loki's right hand as he removed his cloak.

-Simo?- Loki looked at him in surprise, as if he'd just realized he was there, beside him, ready to experience his unstoppable passion.

-You take care of me because you're afraid you can't take it anymore.-

-What are you saying? I told you it's trust that drives me to show you all my gratitude and how much I care for you. I don't question your victory.-

-I don't think you lied... I know you have high expectations of me.- with a tug, Simo caught him in his arms, forcing them both back onto the mattress: -But I shouldn't be the only one who enjoys the pleasures of sex. It should be equal.-

Loki, feeling the firmness of his exposed erection against his pants and the pounding of his heart against his cheek, felt he could do anything for Simo.

-Do you propose any conditions?- he whispered hoarsely, barely able to maintain the self-control necessary to keep from tearing off his pants.

Simo grabbed his wrists, forcing him closer to his face.

The God of Mischief felt an intense heat rise in his stomach, and his eyes, fixed on Simo's, slid into an abyss of lust. And his body, without the slightest hint of rebellion, allowed itself to be dominated by hands that were anything but inexperienced.

-I want to hear you scream my name.- Simo was on top of him. And although the clarity of his gaze hadn't faded, it was the gaze of a predator who had seen the blood of a long-sought prey: -Prove to me that you are the personification of Chaos, as you boast.-

The ticking of the clock was the only sound that could be heard in the entire small dwelling.

-You're practically telling me you want to fuck me until you're satisfied...- Loki licked his lips, listening to his lover without disturbance and absentmindedly caressing his chest: -This condition excites me, but I feel it's incomplete. Even hearing you scream my name is a vision that would make me lose control.-

-But you wouldn't see me acting to satisfy your specific sexual desires.-

-Ooh. So this is it? You want to satisfy me?-
Loki wrapped his arms around Simo's neck again: -You're becoming a real expert with all this sex.-

-More than satisfying you...- Simo closed his eyes, placing his right hand on Loki's face in a gentle caress: -I don't want to regret anything.-

Loki gasped. The other's voice sounded dangerously fragile.

-Simo...-

The sniper chose not to continue openly expressing his emotions. With a thirst he didn't believe possible, he threw himself at Loki. Against those perfect, soft lips that screamed cruelty, yet were ready to pour out sweetness and understanding for him. And the god, immersed in that wave of passion, allowed himself to be touched and desired.

His pants were pulled down without him noticing, and the penetration of Simo's erection inside him made him gasp. No matter how much he moaned, no matter how much Simo made him feel, Loki's mind was elsewhere, fixed on that fearful declaration Simo had made.
He wanted to enjoy every moment with him because he was afraid. Because there was a chance he wouldn't emerge unscathed from that fight. And although he had been the first to scold him for trusting him, Simo was no fool: in war, you win or you die, there are no half measures. And Ragnarok covered up those cruel, unspoken rules.

-S-Simo...- Loki gasped, clinging to him like a lost man seeking salvation: -S-Swear to me... that you'll never stop loving me...-

Simo's response was not long in coming, as was a slightly stronger thrust than the previous one: -I swear.-

Sweat dampened Simo's neck, making his skin look more luminous and suggestive. Loki wanted to bite and caress it again, but his current position didn't allow it.

-P-Push deeper, come on... fill me with you.-

A thrust, faster and swifter than the previous ones, made Loki moan loudly, plunging him into ecstasy.

-You'll have what you want.-

He wanted Simo. He wanted him with all his might; he was his, he belonged to him. And he belonged to him in return; he let himself be loved and desired, allowing him to possess and mark him like no one else could ever dream of.
To see him feel good, he let him do whatever he wanted. Anything as long as their night lasted forever.

A long moan escaped Loki's lips, and seconds later his semen had soiled Simo's stomach. Simo, however, hadn't stopped yet.
Loki moaned uncontrollably as he felt him grab his legs to deepen his penetration.
Simo's cheeks were flushed with audacity and exertion, but his dark eyes still shone with kindness and satisfaction as he watched him struggle between satisfaction and the arrival of another orgasm.

-Simo…!- he didn't want to stop saying his name. He wanted to scream it until his vocal cords begged for mercy: -I love you... I love you...-

-L-Loki... I...- a wave of pleasure, longer than the previous ones, made the sentence die in his throat, forcing in its place a moan of pure pleasure as his seed filled Loki completely.

Simo's chest rose and fell rapidly, and without leaving his god's side, he collapsed into his arms, gasping for air.

Loki didn't hesitate for a moment to embrace him, to bury his nose in his hair to smell his scent. The way he held him, it was clear he was visibly moved. A thousand thoughts must have been swirling through his mind, and his body communicated them with no intention of hiding them.

‘Stay with me.’

‘I love you so much. I want you.’

‘Don’t leave me. Don’t stop loving me.’

And Simo sighed with pleasure and relief, serene in the realization of how united they were even in the darkest moments, when their relationship was threatened and every belief shattered.
They had something to fight for, and they would. Simo no longer doubted that.

-Loki.- saying his name softly against his chest sent shivers of pleasure through the God of Mischief, which Simo didn't miss: -I'm not tired. Let's continue.-

-Do you want to continue?-

The Finn didn't even notice Loki's sudden heartbeat.

-I thought I made it clear before: it should be a give and take in equal parts.- Loki's arms released him, and taking advantage of this, Simo lay down on the other side of the bed, his gaze still fixed on his, with a devotion that would have seemed banal in words: -It's your turn to possess me.-

-Simo... I...- Loki's face was completely red. Simo was aware that Loki was not inexperienced in sex. To appease his instincts, even before he was born, the god must have had countless lovers warming his bed.

But if there was one thing that filled him with tenderness, it was seeing Loki letting himself go, at the mercy of the chaotic feelings he harbored for him, which made him blush with innocence.

-Do you need an incentive?-

-No! Simo, it's just... m-mh!~-

Simo had leaned toward him with one arm and, lying sideways, traced the lines of his muscles with his fingertips while, with his lips - no longer shy or cold, but bold and welcoming - he precisely followed the direction the tattoos took along his body.

His lips moved from his forearms to his wrists and descended to Loki's stomach, which twisted with the visceral dizziness that only the lips of the human he loved so much could cause.

-They're beautiful.- Simo whispered softly, placing another kiss near Loki's navel: -Everything about you is beautiful.- the slight contraction of his vocal cords didn't stop him from continuing his journey, descending to his thighs, which, with the growing tremors of pleasure, instinctively parted.

-Simo—!- Loki said nothing but his name, clinging to him and digging his nails into his back, making him sigh in a twisted mix of pain and pleasure.

-Feel free to stop me...- the sniper murmured again, kissing the tattoos that covered the inside of his thighs. Loki's eyes were moist with love and pleasure.

Simo had never been in a relationship, but he was incredibly skilled at making him feel anything.

He loved him so much. He didn't want to do without him.

He would reciprocate every drop of his love, making him fall into absolute ecstasy.

Simo's kisses had gone further, lingering on the inside of his other thigh, and it was when a kiss, more ardent than the previous ones, pressed against his tattooed skin that Loki decided to act, gently tugging at his hair to make his focus completely on him.

-It's... my turn to give you pleasure.-

Simo smiled, caressing his leg before standing up and seeking his face again.

-Do it.-

And Loki didn't waste that opportunity. Reversing their positions once more, Loki pounced on his lips, leaving long, ardent kisses that plunged them into a whirlwind of boundless lust. Even the caresses Loki placed on Simo's scar were imbued with a devoted and unwavering sensuality.

-How are you so perfect?- he asked in a husky voice, his cheeks flushed, forcing himself not to get too lost in his admiration, lest he forget his unquestionable mission: to give him the greatest possible pleasure.

-It's your eyes... that give you this vision of me.- Simo sighed, returning Loki's loving gaze.

The two remained motionless for a few moments, absorbed in admiring each other and making love simply by meeting their gazes. The connection they shared was inconceivable.

-No, Simo... that's where you're wrong.- Loki caressed his chest, brushing his nipples to deliberately send shivers of pleasure through him: -There's nothing wrong with you. You're perfect in everything you do. In your character, in your beauty...- Loki placed his lips on him right nipple, sucking it, causing Simo to let out a small moan: -...and in your humanity.-

-In my humanity?-

-Yes.- you understood correctly.- Loki leaned in slowly, his breath brushing his cheek: -You're the only human who could make me feel all these emotions. You're the best of your kind, and I don't care if you disagree. To me, you are.-

Simo wanted to say something, but couldn't: a wave of pain and pleasure made him moan and curl his toes. Loki, with a silent, abrupt thrust of his hips, had entered him.

-What's that tender, disoriented look on your face? You caught me off guard earlier. My submission is very equal.- Loki teased, thrusting deeper into him with a contented sigh. He would never tire of having sex with someone who loved him unconditionally: -You have to suffer the consequences.-

Simo moaned as he felt Loki begin to move inside him eagerly. He wasn't used to being underneath him and receiving him inside himself, but he put that habit aside to willingly give in to the desire to feel Loki reach deep inside him, touching every possible spot to disturb him and extinguish any remaining rationality.

-L-Loki...!-

-Shh. You don't have to say my name.- with love reflected in his eyes, Loki gently caressed Simo's scar as he continued to penetrate him: -I'm here... and I'm yours. I always will be...-

Simo's moans were low, and his face was completely flooded with pleasure. His tousled hair made him look even more tender, making Loki's heart beat with pure joy.
Only he was capable of lowering his defenses, of exposing him so much. Only he could think of loving him, of possessing him, of hearing the intensity of his moans increase with each thrust.
Simo reciprocated his desire to love and possess him incessantly.
And this was his greatest victory.

The God of Mischief didn't know how long they remained there, in bed, moaning and making love. The orgasm had shaken them both violently once more, and after a long embrace, twice more, they didn't hesitate to seek each other out in an endless dance of pleasure, alternating their dominance with the immense desire to satisfy each other.
They collapsed on the bed exhausted, unable to go any further. Their breathing was synchronized, and Simo, holding Loki tightly, was reeling from emotions: Loki, known for his seemingly introverted and cold personality, couldn't stop kissing his hair, vowing that after their fight he would return to him and Kille. How they would plan their wedding, how their happiness was only the beginning of a great journey they would have to undertake hand in hand.
And Loki let himself be carried away by those promises and those kisses, telling him that he loved him, that he adored him. Because there would never be anyone more important in his life than him.

-Shouldn’t we… order food?- Simo whispered after a deep stillness in which it was the rhythm of their breathing that lulled them together. They had spent two straight hours making love, completely forgetting that their stomachs also needed to be fed.

-How hungry are you?-

-Very.- Simo confessed, his day reduced to training and sex as his only occupations: -And you?-

-Hungry enough to let you feed me.-

Simo snorted softly, holding him a little tighter: -And what kind of answer is that supposed to be?-

-A Loki-style answer, obviously!- the god laughed, keeping his body perfectly pressed to Simo’s, resting his cheek against his chest while his right hand explored his muscles.

-You’re a fool.-

-But I’m yours.-

-Yes.- Simo agreed, drowsy in his embrace: -You’re mine.-

Without letting go of him, with his left hand and a lazy flick of his fingers, Loki conjured a medium-sized golden bell. Shaking it eleven times in succession, he spread its sound everywhere in a demanding summons.

Barely five minutes had passed when suddenly, the door to Simo’s apartment opened.
The sniper cracked his eyes open at the sound of Kille’s barking and the squeak of a turning handle; two young maids, dressed in maid uniforms and panting, hurried into the room.

-What do you desire… Lord Loki?- managed the maid who had served him the longest. For an instant her gaze lingered on their bare bodies, but she quickly turned it away.

Loki didn’t like what belonged to him attracting indiscreet glances, and she had no wish to die.

-You will bring us a sumptuous dinner. And be sure not to take long.- Loki warned them, without specifying preferences or showing particular cruelty: -Do you want anything specific, my love?- his voice softened under Simo’s embrace and the kisses he had received.

-I would like a plate of poronkäristys.- Simo answered after a few seconds of silence: -It’s reindeer meat. I’ve never had you try it, and… we could share it between us.-

Loki lifted himself slightly to stretch more comfortably, resting his chin in the curve of Simo’s neck, unconcerned about his exposed nakedness: -That seems like a splendid choice.-

-Is that enough…?- asked the other young maid, clearly anxious. Deep down, Simo understood her: one misstep and Loki’s idyllic mood could turn into unprecedented hostility.

-For the other dishes, I trust you.- Simo added serenely.

-Very well. If the orders are finished, we will withdraw.- murmured the maid who had addressed Loki first, bowing in unison with her companion.

However, when the more experienced girl’s gaze instinctively flicked back to Loki’s body, Simo, frowning, grabbed a blanket to cover him. The gesture surprised both maids, who quickly bowed lower before hurrying out, and Loki himself, who melted inside at such an unconscious display of protection and possession.

-Claiming your territory, mh?- Loki traced invisible circles over his abs: -Everything about you already drives me mad… if you keep this up, I’ll tie you to this bed and fuck you until you can’t move anymore.-

Simo’s face flared a furious red: -D-Don’t say nonsense…-

-I’ve never been more serious than I am right now.~-

They didn’t have to wait long before the food was served: Simo felt a pang of guilt at seeing how the two maids, on their return, were even more flustered than before, and feared that, deep down, it was partly his fault too.
The trays they set on their laps were filled with delicious dishes, Norwegian fare that he didn’t know, but didn’t hesitate to try when Loki encouraged him. They weren’t far from the flavors of Finnish cuisine, which helped him feel even more at home.

-Do you like it?- with Kille having taken advantage of the open door to wander into the bedroom, Simo hoped to hear a positive answer about the reindeer meat with mashed potatoes and lingonberries he had suggested to Loki.

And he didn’t have to wait long.

Loki’s eyes lit up at the exquisiteness of the dish, prompting him to answer after a couple more bites: -This dish is delicious! Aaah, my Simuna, as always you do nothing but introduce me to foods worth mentioning! You have a simply exquisite sense of taste!-

Simo smiled sincerely, shaking his head slightly:
-I didn’t know you’d also become the god of compliments.-

-It’s a title you made me earn. You’d better get used to it.- Loki shot back, returning the smile and bringing a piece of meat to Simo’s mouth:
-Come on, now indulge me, indulge this god of compliments, and eat more. I want you strong.-

Their dinner went on like that: between smiles and given caresses, they spent a good half hour eating the dishes that had been brought to them, leaving some leftovers for Kille who, delighted, devoured them greedily.
Getting out of bed was a painful choice for Loki, but he hadn’t wanted to leave Simo alone washing the dishes. So, dressing only up to his waist, he followed him to stay by his side, hugging him from behind as he calmly washed plates and glasses.

He wanted to savor every moment, even the smallest and most ordinary. Simo’s calm, clear eyes were an intense and majestic sight that he would never have refused.

And even when they found themselves making the bed again and bathing together, Loki felt a strange stillness dominate him. It wasn’t the stillness born from peace and the love of having given himself to Simo and claimed him, but rather something morbid, insurmountable. And sinister.

-You’re worried.-

Simo’s remark and the sound of the water shifting with the movement of their bodies pulled Loki from a light daze. His arms, wherever they were, never stopped clinging to Simo. Yet feeling his beloved’s back pressed against his chest didn’t grant him the tranquility he thought he’d regained.

-Have I become unpredictable?-

-No.- Simo pulled his right hand from the water to take one of Loki’s and squeeze it: -It’s your eyes that speak, even when no one is watching them.-

-I have talkative eyes.-

-Yes.- Simo closed his eyes: -And a devoted heart.-

-A heart that would give its life for you.- Loki had wanted to add instinctively, but realizing the thought made him stiffen.

The argument he had had with Brunhilde was influencing him, urging him to finally make a definitive decision. And probably that was why she had spoken to him: she knew he was at a moment in his life where he was vulnerable and happy. He had suffered and endured so much before meeting Simo and experiencing love, and now that he knew the true taste of happiness, he didn’t want to forget it. He wanted to defend it with tooth and nail.

But…

-Loki?-

There was that “but” that tormented him.

-Aren’t you afraid, Simo?- he asked suddenly, finding temporary solace in lightly stroking his shoulder.

-I’m not afraid.- Simo, who could lose his life in less than a day, radiated serenity: -With you at my side, even the suffering of my sins is sweeter.-

Loki showed a smile: -Very romantic of you. What are you doing, trying to seduce me again?-

-If my sincerity you take as seduction, then we can say yes.- Simo answered with another spontaneous and innocent smile that Loki never wanted to stop admiring.

Going back to bed and sleeping had been comforting: they had embraced, and Simo had closed his eyes to keep him from worrying, fighting against insomnia. And it was in those gestures where Simo’s strength awakened, making Loki feel weak in comparison; Simo’s humanity allowed him to question himself, to face fears and hardships for those he loved and for his homeland. He was guided by the unbreakable spirit of a warrior who would do anything to return to the arms of the god he could call “home.” Bearing the weight of another death would normally have broken him, but this time he wasn’t alone: Loki and Kille were with him, and it was that vivid awareness that compelled him not to falter, at least for that night. And Loki himself was overjoyed to finally see him fall asleep, to feel his steady breathing tickle his exposed skin.

The room’s temperature was perfect, and the warmth of their entwined bodies was pleasant, but Loki could not enjoy it. He, who welcomed sleep easily and encouraged Simo to do the same, was not closing his eyes.
And when the clock struck three in the morning, Loki felt an atrocious unease that forced him to slip out of Simo’s arms and head to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water.

-Everything was going well… and that traitor ruined it all!- he lashed out through gritted teeth against Brunhilde, keeping his gaze chained to the mirror: the reddened eyes and pale face dangerously revealed the imminence of an emotional collapse.

How could he go back to sleep? How could he summon the same strength that allowed Simo to keep moving forward with his head held high, never once looking back?
He didn’t recognize himself. The feeling of helplessness, no matter how hard he had tried to stifle it, consumed him, and it drove him mad with pain.
Because he was realizing that this time, keeping pace with Simo would not be possible.

There was an abyss between them. A difference that went beyond their personalities, ideals, or behaviors: Simo, if he died, would somehow find a way to keep going. He would not.
He would go insane, try to kill anyone. And then he would follow him, incapable of remaining a single second without him.

Simo would suffer, yes… he would mourn him - just imagining it pierced him with pain - but he would never be alone. Radgridr, Kille, and others who cared for him would be there, ready to support him.

And he? Outside of Simo, who did he have?
Who else loved him?
No one.

-I… I won’t allow anyone to take your smile away… no… no one will dare!- his eyes, which before had shone with love and pleasure, were now wrapped in a mad and desperate light.

And deep in sleep, with a hand unconsciously seeking Loki’s, Simo, free for a few hours from his suffering, could not soothe those of his beloved god.

{I want to be with him forever. I don’t want to be apart from him.
But he has placed duty first. He wants to fight for humanity. He is willing to sacrifice himself just to win.
[…]
Why, Simo, why? Why are you doing this to me?
The torment of your loss consumes me, and you sleep with the knowledge that you are causing me unimaginable grief.
You said you don’t like to see sadness on my face. You’re a liar.
And so is Brunhilde. You all are. Always have been.}

Loki’s hand did not stop putting his thoughts onto paper with haste and desperation, his eyes radiating a love that was consuming him.
Some ink stains smudged the lines already filled with words and emotions shouted onto the paper, but that disorder was nothing compared to the chaos raging inside Loki.

One. Two. Three.

Ten. Eleven.

Eighteen.

Twenty would have been the number of pages reached if Loki’s aching hand hadn’t refused to continue with his reckless deliriums.
The god hadn’t noticed, but his writing had been so fast that it distorted its original meaning, swapping letters with others, leaving incomplete sentences, or curses and pleas devoid of logic.
The chaos that had devastated his soul had been captured on paper, and no one could ever erase it.

-Loki…?- a sleepy voice and the faint rustle of sheets interrupted that frantic inner race: -Why are you awake…? Are you not feeling well…?-

Even Kille, who had fallen asleep at the foot of the bed, had his big blue eyes open. Like Simo, he directed them at Loki, waiting for a reaction.

-I had to get out of bed because I couldn’t sleep.- telling the truth instead of otherwise was a clever move, worthy of him. To prevent Simo from suspecting anything, weaving truths and lies was essential: -And I needed to clear my thoughts. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.-

-You should have woken me.-

“Ah, his beautiful eyes are doing it again: they’re starting to cloud with worry. Just for me.”

-Simo, tomorrow is an important day: I couldn’t interrupt your sleep with my anxieties. It’s already enough if you sleep properly!-

Simo rubbed an eye, sitting up. Loki was farther from the bed than he had thought.

-Go back to sleep.- he encouraged, holding the sheets and lifting them just enough to make room for him again.

And Loki, leaving the pen he had used to write and closing his journal, approached the bed again without making a sound. He curled up under the sheets and in Simo’s arms, feeling Kille move closer to rest on his legs.

His silence was respected, and Simo didn’t seek explanations. He would have waited until the next morning to do so.

But that didn’t happen.

{Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Simo is only MINE!!}

-Don’t let yourself be consumed by worry. You know how he is: it’s possible he went to prepare a surprise to make you happy before the fight.-

-He would have made it clear to me.-

Radgridr didn’t lose her smile, even though time was running fast and in an hour she would have to accompany Simo to a deadly battle. Supporting and comforting him was her priority.

-And what if he went to personally investigate his opponent? We haven’t been given any information yet, but Hilde said we should trust and…-

-I have to find him.-

Radgridr brought a hand to her chest, her eyes veiled with sadness: -Simo…-

The Finn barely heard her, preoccupied with putting on his coat and taking his rifle to leave.

Waking up without Loki’s breath against his chest and without his intoxicating scent had disoriented him. Seeing Kille with drooping ears, sharing that same emptiness born from absence, had intensified a restlessness that should have remained dormant.
He searched for him in every room, on the terrace, in the places they usually frequented. He had gone out in pajamas and slippers down that cursed hallway, hoping that Loki, driven by a sudden burst of anger, had returned with that troublesome mystical being.

-Where is Loki?- he asked in a cold tone, pressing his fingers against the cold cell.

-He hasn’t been here.- was the only answer he received, spoken with an unusually calm voice and… was that sorrow?

Simo couldn’t stop to question Rasputin’s sincere bitterness; with quick steps, he tried to search for Loki everywhere, accompanied by Kille and determined not to stop until he found him.
And it was during that desperate search that he came across Radgridr, who, seeing his eyes filled with anguish, urged him to return, positively assuming that by now Loki would have already gone back to his rooms.

But Loki’s personal belongings had also disappeared, and Simo, disoriented, felt weak and defeated.

-I’ll return with you before the fight.-

Radgridr’s gaze fell on the empty table behind them: -You haven’t even eaten…-

Simo’s brows furrowed in a pained expression, keeping his eyes fixed beyond the open door, on a point Radgridr couldn’t clearly see.

—I’m not hungry.-

-But…!-

-He cannot leave. And he cannot fight on an empty stomach.-

Radgridr’s heart jumped in surprise. There was a reason Simo hadn’t left yet: Brunhilde, standing before him with her arms crossed, was preventing him.

-Sister Brunhilde?- Radgridr took a step forward, politely seeking her gaze, but found only distance in return.

-You know where Loki has gone.- Simo’s tone was accusatory. And inevitably, anguish struck her as well.

-The eleventh round will begin in twenty minutes.-

-In twenty minutes?- Radgridr’s eyes widened, incredulous: -But I thought we’d have more time to…-

-It’s not my decision.- Brunhilde cut her off, closing her eyes for a few seconds before reopening them and turning away.

-Wasn’t it also your decision to have Loki fight against me?-

A heavy silence took over that small room.

-Brunhilde…- Radgridr’s pink irises were filled with reproach: -What does this mean?-

The eldest of the Valkyries didn’t turn. Her fists were clenched, though incoherently compared to the coldness of her face.
Simo wasn’t naive and had understood everything. But there was no turning back now. Not when so many losses had already occurred.

-If humanity loses, everyone will die.- Brunhilde reminded them, though that “everyone” carried a strange weight that made Radgridr shiver: -Do not make me repeat it, and prepare yourselves.-

Neither of them tried to stop her.
The sound of Brunhilde’s retreating steps was excruciating for Radgridr, but for Simo… what could it be but an unspoken sentence?

The vain attempt to suppress a choked sob tightened Radgridr’s heart painfully. And seeing a tear slide down Simo’s cheek to be lost in his balaclava was unbearable for her.

-Simo… it’s the mission entrusted to us, I said it myself. But it’s about Loki. We can’t…-

-Let’s go.-

-But…-

Simo’s eyes no longer shone with joy, calm, or concern. They were reddened from tears and a coldness that, apathetic, stripped him of all emotion.

-It’s a battle they expect from us. Nothing more.-

There was no room for feelings or for the future. No room for plans or dreams that, after all, could never come true.
Simo tried to convince himself of this. He tried with all his strength.

But it was impossible. And it would continue to be.

“Loki, why? Why are you doing this to me?”

As he walked in silence, accompanied by Radgridr and Kille, who silently and knowingly followed his suffering, Simo felt a nauseating pain remembering that the night before, he and Loki had made love without pause.
And Loki had smiled, had blushed. He had spoken his name with passion and had made eternal promises of love.

Had it all been an illusion? Had Loki deceived him? Was he fully aware of the fate that awaited him and pleased him only to avoid worrying him?

|Not even if I lost my mind… would I give you up. Being able to have you with me is all that matters. I love you, Simo. I desire you too much. And being able to marry you… to shout to everyone that you are m-mine…|

|You’ve made me so happy, and here are the consequences. You can’t turn back now!~|

|Simo, have I already told you that I love you?|

“I have no intention of giving you up.” Simo thought stubbornly, aware of how his eyes were beginning to glisten again: “We have a wedding to celebrate next week. You promised me.”

-It can’t be ruled out… that Loki might decide to grant you some advantages, passing them off as a well-planned strategy.- Radgridr suggested kindly, though her spirits were low. Simo appreciated her effort to reassure him.

-I don’t rule that out either.- he murmured, because he truly believed it.

He trusted Loki, and he didn’t want to believe that he had truly given up.
Many times he had said that the gods took whatever they wanted at any cost, and Simo wanted Loki to do the same with him.

Because the truth was simple: losing Loki wouldn’t have gotten him up to keep going.
Not again.

{…Simo…
…
…
…
………..there’s something I want to tell you.
…I…}

-This battlefield… I don’t like it.-

Loki had orchestrated some plan. He knew him, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered to choose such a vast snowy landscape as the arena for combat.
Radgridr had guessed it, but Simo also knew that something was off.

‘Come on, reach me. Find me and shoot me.’

Was it really Loki who, with this arena, wanted to corner him? To push him into doing the impossible?

If he thought it would make him lose his clarity, he was completely wrong. Simo hadn’t lost it.
He clung tightly to that hope he had embraced to avoid making Loki suffer: he would win his match. Yet, in this unpleasant situation, he added another hope: the hope of triggering the first tie of Ragnarök.

He didn’t know what could happen, nor how the scores would work if both combatants gave up, renouncing all adversity, but he would try.
The important thing was to defeat the opponent, and from the battles he had witnessed, he knew that the loser died because he had been mortally wounded. No one had considered the possibility of restraining oneself and showing mercy. No one except Hercules, the demigod who, before the start of the fourth round, had proposed to Jack the Ripper to forfeit the fight and leave if what he sought was the salvation and integrity of his soul.

Jack had not accepted, and Loki, if Simo proposed it, would probably react the same way. Simo knew him well enough to understand that he must have been terribly upset, and it was precisely that painful shock that had led him to make the drastic, impulsive decision to fight.

But if he, on the other hand, managed to defeat Loki without seriously harming him and forced him to accept defeat… then…

-Five victories for the gods… and five victories for the humans.- Heimdall’s amplified voice echoed across the battlefield and the arena: -This is a tie situation that puts humanity’s survival at risk. Only three rounds remain! And finally, the eleventh has arrived…-

Anxiety, concern, exasperation. The tension among the spectators could not compare to that of the two combatants, but it spread everywhere. The weight of those deadly fights suffocated everyone mercilessly, making them more aware of what was at stake.

-Will humanity be one step closer to its end… or will it manage to take control of the situation?-

It was a matter of maintaining control, indeed.
Without it, ruin would be the only conceivable outcome.

-The one tasked with protecting humanity is none other than this man!- at that announcement, the blizzard revealed Simo’s silhouette: -In 1939, during the Winter War, the Soviet army launched its attack on Finland. But it was then that a farmer took up a rifle and confronted the invaders occupying his beloved Finland! Surrounded by the beautiful fortresses of his land, he responded with fire! He managed to halt the invasion of a million Soviet soldiers with bullets and the fear he inspired!-

Simo knew fear well. Projected in the eyes of the Soviet soldiers he had torn from their families, he had seen it again in their empty eyes, in their restless, unforgiven corpses that had haunted him for years in his nightmares.
And Loki, who had been the first to direct a genuine and pure look of love at him, in this confrontation, would interact with the monster he truly was.

-On the defensive line of the Kolla River, thanks to him, a small group of only thirty-two soldiers defeated four thousand enemies! His aim was 100%! And everything that fell under the sight of his eyes inevitably fell to the ground. His bullets claimed the lives of 542 soldiers, staining the snow with blood!-

But their blood would not be spilled. Even if at the end of that deadly and internal battle, Loki came to hate him… Simo would forgive him. And he would not cause him a single scratch.
In the worst case, if dialogue proved impossible and Loki did not listen, he would have taken his own life.

-Here you have the deadliest and most skilled sniper in human history!-

The devotion to the homeland where he had grown up and lived was indescribable. But the devotion he felt for Loki and his smile had reached such intensity that it made him question himself.

-Known among men as the “White Death”: SIMO HÄYHÄ!-

Simo stopped in his tracks. Kille, who had faithfully followed him even when he had performed the volundr with Radgridr, followed his example.

-Kille, you stay here. I’ll be back in a moment. And I won’t be alone.-

With confidence, the little dog remained still, keeping his large blue eyes fixed on Simo’s back, which, without a tremor, radiated an impressive, almost inhuman strength and determination.
And his senses were just as sharp.

While his ears remained alert to hear Heimdall’s explanation of the arena for the curious spectators, his eyes were fixed on the objective, ready to spot from afar the point where Loki would appear: the sky.

-Anyway, the one who chose this battlefield was… Simo Häyhä… no, wait! It wasn’t him!-

Simo’s brows furrowed in pain as Heimdall made that reality even more evident: Loki had prepared everything down to the smallest detail, regardless of how humans and gods might question his decisions.
But the pain that almost prevented him from moving forward was even more devastating, because the refined classical music that began to spread everywhere was the same one Loki had played one night three years ago when he had jokingly asked Simo to dance under the moonlight.

-The Ride of the Valkyries.-

Loki was making all his memories come alive, delighting in a cruel game that hurt them both.

-The eleventh representative of the gods… is this deity! The most terrible and wicked of the Norse pantheon!- Heimdall seemed to be the only one not surprised to hear that intense, imposing melody.

And as Simo had predicted, the floating figure of Loki, covered by the long dark cloak - the same one he had used to sneak into Simo’s room - descended elegantly from the sky, wrapped in a whirlwind of snow that, upon his arrival, seemed to pay homage to him, making his entrance even more spectacular.

-He deceives the gods. He seduces them, betrays them… what he desires is absolute chaos! Everything he brings is destruction and despair to the world!-

“No. That’s not him. Loki isn’t this.”

Did people really believe that Loki was only a crazy god who enjoyed making others suffer? Watching him dance joyfully, did they still consider him strange and cruel, a threat that had to be eliminated or exploited to win?

-The enigmatic and versatile court jester has finally revealed himself to all, taking his place on the stage!-

Simo couldn’t take his eyes off Loki, feeling drawn by him and his movements as if this were no longer a battlefield, but a ballroom where they could dance and express their love universally.

-He deceives the gods. He seduces them, betrays them… what he desires is absolute chaos! What he brings is the destruction of the world!-

-Loki…-

Simo knew he had to get into position. But that dance, as well as the god performing it, was destroying him. Slowly, inexorably. Towards that dangerous prophecy Grigorij Rasputin had spoken with delirious omnipotence.

-Here you have the craftiest and most audacious trickster of Valhalla: LOKIIII!-

The feet of the god of Deception touched the white snow, and a joyful smile appeared in every present chamber.
Simo, behind the mask of apparent impassiveness, struggled against an internal imbalance that gave him no respite. And taking position, behind a tree and with the rifle steady, did nothing to restore his calm.
A calm that not even Loki, in that dance of overflowing euphoria, had shown sincerely.

Despite the distance, their eyes met. Through the rifle’s scope, Simo perceived the madness in Loki’s violet eyes, and a monstrous smile appeared on his lips as he produced a megaphone identical to Heimdall’s.
Loki’s was, without a doubt, the smile of someone announcing a slow and inexorable revenge.

A small tremor shook Simo almost imperceptibly.
Seeing him enter the field must have forced Loki to abandon the last vestige of lucidity he had left.

-Hey, my love. Can you hear me?-

The audience fell silent, caught between disbelief and skepticism, trying to detect a mocking tone in Loki’s voice.
After all, a god and a human chosen to kill each other couldn’t know each other and have sworn fidelity and love, could they?

-I chose this place especially for the two of us. It’s very suggestive and romantic, don’t you think?- Loki’s eyes glimmered with a sinister light: -And if I’m not mistaken, it should be very similar to your beloved Finland. The trees, the animals, the amount of snow, and the houses… they are part of very precious memories for you. Memories intertwined with the thrilling Winter War in which you became the undisputed celebrity!~-

“Why are you doing this?” Simo gripped his rifle, feeling empty and disappointed. He understood that, whatever plan Loki was plotting, the goal was to make him hate him.

-Many bodies were felled by your flawless shots, and much blood has stained the whiteness of the snow. I bet that right now, the images of the soldiers you eliminated are haunting you. But don’t worry…- a halo of black smoke of unknown origin surrounded Loki and his sadistic smile: -Soon they will get the revenge they deserve.~-

Simo did not flinch as three tall, distinct silhouettes formed in that darkness, accompanying and protecting Loki like three imposing towers: Odin, Thor, and Hercules wore expressionless, emotionless faces.

Simo imagined that the audience, so far away, must have been impressed by such skill. The god of Deception was already serious and had summoned the presence of three replicas identical to the originals.
But the sniper knew very well that these three imitators could not be considered mere dolls. The power they emanated was aberrant, very similar to the power Loki himself exuded.

-I can’t believe he… actually did it.- murmured Radgridr, saddened behind him, resting her delicate hands on his shoulders to support him. Her pink irises were fixed with sorrow on the replica of Hercules, the demigod loved by all for his great kindness.

-I won’t let him tarnish the memory of those who are no longer here.- Simo promised, forced to keep the scope aimed at the god he loved, who made him tremble with rage.

He would have gladly looked away, but he couldn’t; distraction meant certain death. And he couldn’t allow it. Not without doing something.
But… Loki’s eyes were ugly, dark, unpleasant. They were not the same eyes of the god with whom he had made uninterrupted love.

-What do you think of my little toys? Have they caught your interest?- Loki asked from a distance, with a false, wide, cheerful smile: -…oh, well. I suppose it doesn’t matter much. We’re too far apart, and I can’t hear you. But I’ll make sure to close this damn distance you yourself have created.- for a brief moment, Loki’s voice cracked with a feeling akin to pain: -Wherever you are, I will force you out of your hiding place!- and upon finishing that exclamation, the three clones attacked.

Simo remained firm and composed in the face of the avalanche of destruction they brought. They were ready to strictly follow the will of their creator, and if he wasn’t careful, they could have discovered him in an instant.

-It will be you who comes into the light…- Simo whispered, quickly moving from his hiding spot to find another. He wanted answers about this radical change, and he would get them.

And Loki, who knew and loved him more than anyone, was perfectly aware that he would never give up. Too many important matters were at stake, and Simo would keep fighting relentlessly.
And he soon proved it: through the eyes of the little bunny Loki had created without anyone suspecting anything, he saw how his human wasted no time moving.

Relief and a sadistic sense of triumph began to spread in his heart like a harmful poison. Simo was falling straight into his trap.

-Good. Keep running, my love… and hit those clones with all your strength. I expect nothing less.-

Keeping his smile and hiding his impure desire to find Simo, Loki tightened his grip on the megaphone between his fingers. The only object that allowed him to communicate with the one who, through his decisions, had contributed to breaking his heart.

-If you keep hiding like this, I’ll never find you. You’re making things very difficult for me!~- he released the megaphone, and from within his hand emerged another black cloud that allowed the object to float in front of his mouth: -If you really don’t want to follow me and prefer to play the villain, I’d say it’s better to call reinforcements. Don’t you agree, my Simuna?- he pronounced his nickname like a wicked caress, using the Andvaranautr ring on his ring finger, imagining it was where Simo’s wedding ring would be placed.

The black cloud only grew, surrounding the entire area where Loki was. It allowed another hundred clones of Odin, Thor, and Hercules to emerge, and when their formation was complete and the cloud dissipated, Loki floated above the snow-covered rooftops.

-Find him.- he ordered with a snap of his fingers, and it was obeyed.

The army of clones advanced along the path cleared by the first three, ready to locate and corner Simo.
They were not to kill him, no. But as soon as they found him, the most powerful clone among them would have to injure and disarm him. Only then could Loki be certain of defeating him with his own strength, without being threatened by that lethal weapon that the volundr between Simo and Radgridr had formed. Thinking about it, he felt a dangerous and unstable jealousy, but he shouldn’t worry: many times the twelfth Valkyrie had been kind to him, but if she had tried to stop him, she would have eliminated him. And with a single strike, she would have forced Simo to surrender and accept defeat, so they could return home, leave Ragnarok behind, resume their love, and make Brunhilde taste the bitter and deplorable flavor of humiliation.

-Have you seen how vast and gloomy my powers can be, my beloved sniper?~- Loki’s eyes shone with satisfaction: -As you can see, I’m also very good at hide and seek. I’ll find you soon, and your escape will end. I feel very sorry for you. I am perfectly aware of the extreme effort you put into everything you do, but this time, it will all be useless!~- Simo listened, absolutely certain: -However, I’m not as evil as many paint me: I have given great value to our love story, and to honor the beautiful warmth you have given me, I will offer you some help. After all, every fair game should be equitable… don’t you agree?~-

-“Beautiful warmth you have given me…?”- in the arena stands many were confused, but no one could surpass Ares, who watched one of the large screens with his characteristic naivety: -Loki is definitely delusional.-

-Why should I be delusional?- Hermes asked, without turning to his brother and keeping his hands clasped behind his back: -It was rumored that Loki and Mr. Simo had begun a very close relationship, which deepened over the years. Therefore, it’s evident that there really was something between them.-

-…-

Hermes, seeing no response, turned to Ares. And with a cheeky, amused smile, he delighted in the foolish expression on Ares’ face.

-How, you didn’t know? These are rumors that have been circulating in Valhalla for years.-

-They… they…- Ares turned abruptly to the screens, shifting his gaze first to Loki and then to Simo: -They what!?-

-My ability is “the jester’s ring”, Heimskringla. To put it simply, it’s the power to replicate anything that exists. For example…- Loki turned to a squirrel sitting quietly on a snowy roof, catching it in midair after floating toward it: -With the skill in my fingertips, I can scan and store the data of what I’ve touched, converting it into an input. Then, with the incredible ability of my palms, which you know well, I generate the output, recreating what I have stored. This is how I can recreate anything, be it an object, a god, or a human, no matter what.- the god lowered the hand holding the real squirrel, dissolving the copy he had created during his explanation with total nonchalance: -But it doesn’t end here: the ring I’m wearing is the proliferation ring, Andvaranautr… you should know that the normal limit of copies I can create is five. But if I wear this ring, I can increase the number to infinity. In other words, this battlefield can benefit you to some extent, because it is also advantageous for me and my hunt!~-

Loki had spent several sleepless hours devising this strategy, and nothing and no one could disrupt it.
To protect Simo and their love… he would do anything. Even be hated by Simo for a few minutes, if necessary.
And that was exactly what he was doing.

-With all these clones, I’ve made our battle even fairer, setting aside my title as “god of Deception” just to please us both.- Loki’s smile grew enormously, and with his right hand raised, he gazed at the snowflakes falling from the sky: -Aah, Simuna… you must admit I’m a genius. I’m giving you a war and I’ve practically not lifted a finger. I’m leaving all the work to those clones, which, the more they increase, the weaker they become… this should be a problematic weak point, now that I think about it. I should have thought— ah, how careless of me.- he brought a hand to his mouth, feigning surprise, then let out a few laughs: -Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re strong for a human, but your limit is your species: you will never defeat me. There’s no reason for me to worry…~-

“I know you, and you know me perfectly. You can perceive each of my lies and sense my moods… but this time, I will not allow it.” with an exaggeratedly cheerful smile on his lips, Loki began taking small, long jumps, praising himself and his skills: “I know we will meet again, it’s just a matter of time. And whether you reach me or I reach you, I will force you to hurt me. And I, taking advantage of your shock, will hurt you too. I will pull you from this place, and with my announced victory, I will give you the care you need. I will dive into your eyes over and over as you lie down with me again and…” Loki’s smile twisted into a grimace of madness and sick pleasure: “Brunhilde, powerless, will witness the destruction of her so beloved humanity.”

A gust of wind stronger than the others made the leaves of the trees, motionless, passively accept those cruel intentions.

“Come on, Simo… shoot and show yourself to me. To the one you belong to.”

-No one can escape me. Accept it and come into the light!~-

He didn’t want to listen anymore. Those words were sharp blades that struck him relentlessly, opening wounds impossible to heal.

-Are you giving me advice on how to defeat you?- Simo whispered, his eyes cold as ice. From the genuine, icy anger he felt, it was as if a primordial and dangerous energy surrounded him: -You’re an idiot.-

And he thought so even as he pulled the trigger without hesitation, feeling his fury leave his body to become a projectile that, in the air, transformed into a rain of lethal bullets, destroying the army of clones in mere instants.

Loki shouted in victory, radiated madness and confidence… but he did not seem at all ready to find him, to seriously fulfill his cruel promises, or to show how well he had come to know him during their friendship, at the start of their relationship, and during those days and nights when they warmed each other and talked about everything and nothing, alone and needing each other.

The evil and arrogant Loki who acted with reckless bravado was a cunning, bloodthirsty hunter who did not limit himself to relying on toys. No, he personally savored the despair of his victims, taking their lives himself.
According to the stories Radgridr had told him one night to satisfy his curiosity, it was said that, without a trace of remorse, he had ripped the heart from a giant with his own hands. And someone like Loki, even if he was fighting against the one he swore to love just hours before, could not have changed his modus operandi overnight.
And he had been right.

-Maksa.-

Renouncing his liver even before pulling the trigger again, Simo quickly positioned himself on a tree, standing, eyes fixed on his next target: Loki himself.

After a silent hunt, he had located him behind a tree trunk, spying.
He also, taking advantage of the moment when the clones had been eliminated, moved to reveal his new position, bringing them face to face.
Through the scope, Simo could see Loki’s violet eyes shining intensely, like a predator aiming at its prey with the intention of capturing it and never letting go.

“Loki…”

He had to pull that trigger to shoot him, but the thought of hurting him and seeing his beautiful irises filled with pain shattered him.

-The shot is ready, Simo.- said Radgridr, her face cracked, containing both physical and mental pain.

“I’m sorry.” and with death in his heart, his liver turned projectile shot across the area in front of him, aimed directly at his target.

-His sense of duty is monstrous… it doesn’t stop him from hurting the one he loves.- Buddha, uncomfortable, chewed a raspberry candy more loudly than necessary: -I won’t deny it: in his place, I’d be in serious trouble too.-

-The pain he suffered during the Winter War gave birth to a strong sense of responsibility. He is willing to bleed from pain to protect others.-

-But my dear little Bru, this makes no sense.- Buddha’s attention focused mainly on the figure of Loki, hidden behind the tree, frowning with who knows what promises of death: -A few days ago, I saw them. They were in sync, and even though Loki, with his stupidity, was causing huge problems, it was enough for Simo to say his name to stop him. He was worried about him, he wanted to protect him - he read it in his ice-cold eyes -, and now he wants to shoot him? This doesn’t seem like a noble act motivated by the desire to protect someone. Here, he isn’t protecting his god, but humanity, which, as you told me, also despised him for his services in the war, threatening him with death.-

-It’s true. I said it.- Brunhilde granted, without taking her eyes off the screen. Now that she thought about it, besides the strange absence of Göll, Brunhilde’s eyes were unusually evasive: -But hurting Loki is the only way to protect him.-

Buddha’s impression was not wrong: Brunhilde’s voice was filled with sorrow. And that admission she made… did she share it with Simo, or was she hiding something of which he knew absolutely nothing?

-Simo Häyhä has just fired a second shot! Loki’s hiding place has been discovered!-

Heimdall’s shout made Buddha and Brunhilde jump in surprise. They had kept their eyes glued to the screens, but their thoughts had been elsewhere all along.

The fired projectile had pushed Simo back, and the first three clones that Loki had created jumped in front of him intending to protect him, only to have their heads disintegrate under the powerful impact of the projectile, which this time had not split, aware that the target was just one specific individual.

-But what…?- Buddha’s eyes widened, and he stopped chewing his candy.

Loki, confident and wearing a cocky smile, created what appeared to be a door, but which was actually the wall of Skuld. At first glance, it seemed sturdy and impenetrable, but that “seemed” was the uncertainty.
Not even ten seconds passed before it began to crack, and as the fractures spread and multiplied, its destruction became inevitable.

And the projectile, fast and lethal, pierced Loki’s forehead.

-Impossible—!- in shock, Buddha opened his mouth wide and stepped forward. Brunhilde, beside him, was petrified: -Has he changed his mind and decided to land a lethal blow—!?-

-That bastard! He eliminated him—!- exclaimed Ares from the other side of the arena, horrified by what he had just witnessed. Hermes and Zeus, equally stunned, said nothing.

Fallen on the snow with his feet firmly planted, Simo could not stop his hands from trembling and his breathing from quickening.

-Simo. Don’t get nervous.- Radgridr tried to say, in vain. She hadn’t missed that Simo’s grip on the rifle had loosened slightly. And that could be fatal.

To the eyes of the spectators, Simo’s icy, impassive figure remained unchanging. Yet only the most expert eyes would have noticed that painful tremor.

And Loki’s were among them.

Without moving a muscle, the real Loki had materialized, replacing the little bunny that Simo had found, watching him from behind a tree, with one of his two scythes already ready to emerge from his palm.

Simo was distracted, staring intensely at his clone with deep suffering in his eyes. He should have realized immediately that the one who had interacted with him during most of his delirious explanations had been a copy, not himself, but still destroying it had moved him.
The idea of harming him was atrocious, stronger than the calm and rationality he needed to maintain to avoid falling into another trap.

And Loki, with a lump in his throat and his heart pounding furiously against his chest, felt the same suffering: he had to hurt him, not kill him, but the thought of doing it made him waver.
Simo was his precious human, the one who had never hesitated to love him and accept him as he was. How could he even think of leaving a scratch? Damaging that glacial perfection that made him so beautiful?

“I can’t stay still much longer or he’ll discover me…” he narrowed his gaze, feeling the unease only given by time running out: “It wasn’t planned for him to destroy my clones so quickly, but… I was an idiot. I’m fighting my Simo. It was obvious it would happen.”

Simo’s eyes had no intention of leaving the clone. One could not rule out that he was regaining full concentration to block his next move.

“He knows how to recognize me… he always has.” Loki bit his lips in fury: “Even if I became someone else now, it would be enough for him to meet my gaze to find me out. And this must not happen, damn it! Not when everything is going according to my plans.”

The delicate smiles Simo had given him and his whispered “I love you” made Loki shudder. The battle between his feelings and the consuming, insane desperation was growing more intense.

“I have to think of how to get to him! Think, Loki! Think! You can’t make a misstep or—“

Burning with the desire to win and with regained confidence, his violet irises, now wide with composure restored, fixed again, firm and calculating, on Simo.

“Of course… this is how I must act.”

He could wait no longer.

He let his bones grow in size, his height increase, and his hair become long and red like fire on a cold night.
With Hercules’ mace in his right hand and fully assuming the appearance of the demigod, without further delay, Loki emerged from behind the tree and lunged into the attack with a growl.

Their eyes met again, Simo, alerted by noises behind him, had turned, aiming the rifle at him.

No more hesitation. No more time to think.
Simo pulled the trigger with incredible speed, hitting him in the right side and making him crash heavily onto the snow.
But he didn’t allow him to do anything more: a second later, another Thor clone and a second clone of Loki himself, emerging from behind the sniper, lunged at him to attack.

The pain Loki felt was hallucinatory and unbearable, but it wouldn’t prevent him from shedding his disguise and releasing the anticipated triumph.

“Very well, Simo. By hitting me in the side, you’ve proven that I know you better than anyone.” a wide smile, full of pain and lascivious satisfaction, distorted his face: “Now, do the right thing and turn around.”

The clones were about to attack Simo, and it was logical for Loki that his White Death would instinctively turn to shoot them, as he had done with the others.
And it was at that moment he would act one last time: he would attack from behind, taking advantage of his inability to deliver the finishing blow, injuring him in turn and forcing him to interrupt this battle that had already lasted too long.

He no longer needed the Andvaranautr ring to deceive him. In about ten minutes, he would review the confrontation without remorse, with Simo by his side in the infirmary, ready to treat the wounds he would soon inflict.
And in a week, the long-awaited day would arrive: on the ring finger, replacing the proliferation ring, would be the wedding ring.

Therefore, Loki didn’t want Simo to turn; he wanted him to. Running toward him and defeating him would mean humanity’s extermination, but it would also bring the crowning of his love dream.
He could not fail. He could not let this happiness, so close and yet so far, slip from his hands.

“Simo…”

The clones were getting closer, but Simo did not move a muscle.

“Simo.”

And his strategy was about to fail for the second time.

“Simo, damn it! Turn and shoot them, or you’ll be the one taking their hits!”

But Simo’s gaze met his again. His finger on the rifle, aimed at him, had no intention of firing. His light and dark eyes shone with confidence, a trust that only someone who had faced death multiple times and survived could possess.

Simo was waiting for him to act.

“Idiot—!”

It was true, Loki knew Simo better than anyone, but the same applied to the Finn: he had learned to accept and appreciate every nuance of Loki’s complex character, his attitudes, and thoughts, and thanks to that deep knowledge, he could anticipate his movements.

He was fully aware that, in case of danger, Loki would protect him.

And indeed, when the god saw the Thor clone lift the fake Mjölnir to strike Simo, his mind decided to free itself from hesitation and caution.
Gritting his teeth until he tasted the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth, with a quick movement of his hand, Loki made the two approaching clones disintegrate, causing a small black cloud explosion that forced Simo to move.

-That wasn’t the real Loki, but one of his clones!?- Heimdall’s incredulous exclamation prompted him to act.

With a superhuman scream, Loki lunged at Simo to stop him, managing to snatch the rifle from his arms.
Simo’s blinking eyelids, struggling to focus, made him realize the reason for his distraction and movement: against all odds, the dark cloud released by the destroyed clones had disoriented him, weakening his vision.
An unexpected event that, now with his rifle thrown far away, could become his death sentence.

Trapped, Simo gathered all his strength to struggle, furiously resisting Loki’s arms that sought to pin him down.
Loki’s violet eyes had lost even their last glimmer: they had become two dark, chaotic, evil pits that prevented him from recognizing the gaze of the god he loved. And his hands, which had once given caresses and pleasure, now squeezed his wrists mercilessly, making him shudder in pain.
His breathing was that of an exhausted but satisfied predator and, as usual, intertwined with Simo’s, broken and fatigued.

-It’s useless to move, Simo. You’ve never surpassed me in physical strength.- having him close gave Loki indescribable pleasure, which is why he whispered that malicious obviousness near Simo’s right ear, sending a cold shiver down his spine: -You better surrender: don’t make me make you scream in pain. Accept surrender and my victory if you don’t want to die.-

-Would you be capable?-

-Of doing what?-

-Of killing me.-

This time it was Loki’s turn to feel a cold shiver run down his spine. Despite the cruelty and sadism he wanted to maintain on his face, he couldn’t detach from those dark eyes that, reflected in his, sought to probe him deeply.

-Ah! You must be going insane.- Loki moved away from his ear to lean toward his lips: -I would never have participated if I hadn’t wanted to kill you.-

-Liar.-

Loki’s teeth ground in rage: -How dare you insinuate—!?-

-Lying is in your nature, had you forgotten?- Simo’s tone, like his eyes, was cold and rigid: -And you also used to pretend to protect me. So I’ll ask you only once: why did you make those clones disappear? Why didn’t you let them finish me?-

Loki didn’t know what to do. Simo remained beneath him, wrists immobilized, but… then why was he the one feeling powerless? Why did he feel that the roles had reversed, and that he was trapped in a corner with no way out?

“Why, Simo, why?” he wanted to find the perfect reply, but the more seconds passed, the more incapable he felt: “Why do you make things so complicated for me?”

Brunhilde had been brilliant: by choosing Simo as her opponent, she had brought him close to defeat even before he could face him. He was the ideal opponent to lower his guard, put him in crisis, and break his deceptions.

-Loki.-

And so it was. Simo was his weakness.
But he didn’t want to give him up. He never would.

-You must listen to me.-

“No… no.”

-I can’t afford to lose. The lives of all humanity are at stake.-

“No… shut up. Enough.”

Loki didn’t want to listen, but he was, and the only sound he perceived was the unpleasant whistle in his ears.
Simo had decided. He was choosing duty over his love.

-You’ve decided to fight me to protect me, I understand.-

“Enough.”

-But I can’t please you.- Simo’s coldness was driving him insane: -I will be the one to win. So surrender and don’t—.-

-ENOUGH!- Loki’s hand released his wrist to make his curved scythe reappear: -You understand nothing! You don’t love me at all! Or you wouldn’t be saying this!-

Releasing the wrist had been fatal, but Loki realized it too late, when a well-placed punch struck his face, making him stagger.

Simo’s breath was filled with fury: -I will not allow you… to question the feelings I have for you.-

With his other hand on Loki’s, which had loosened, Simo escaped with a push, running toward the rifle and gripping it firmly. He also had many opportunities to attack, but he didn’t.
Dialogue and restraint were the only means they considered necessary to end this ordeal.

-And I don’t want to kill you, I never have. But you are even questioning this.- for a moment, Simo’s eyes met Loki’s with a flash of pain: -If it’s you who surrenders, everything will be simpler.-

Loki had forgotten about Brunhilde, the cameras, and the audience.
The punch had stunned him, but never as much as the stifled laughter his lips let escape.

-My surrender wouldn’t have the same value as yours. You’re a miserable human; how do you think Zeus could side with you and grant you victory without having killed me first?- Loki showed one of his most fragile, crazy smiles: -I am a god, and what I desire becomes my property. It would be your surrender and my status that would save us. So hard to understand?-

The silence that followed between them was sharper than any other sharp word.
The sound of their ragged breathing and the visible clouds of exhaled air in the cold were the only details that drew the audience’s attention: Loki and Simo stood still again like two statues, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Simo had let his question hang in the air, but Loki didn’t strictly need to hear it out loud: Simo’s dark eyes shone with crushing determination, and contemplating surrender was not in his plans, even if it meant continuing to fight him.

“You don’t want me to doubt the love you feel for me, but that’s exactly what you are doing yourself.” Loki glanced at the bird flying above their heads and, thinking of nothing else, acted.

Simo spun sharply at the sight of Loki disappearing and reappearing behind him, high above, ready to strike.

-SURRENDER!-

But in response, Loki found a bullet near the right blade he had already raised toward him.

He could have tried to dodge it or counter it in another way, but he didn’t consider it important. Not when he glimpsed Simo coughing, his shoulders trembling, and the bloodstain on his balaclava spreading considerably.

The impact was violent, and Loki was pushed backward, hitting his back against the trunk of a tree and groaning in pain. Yet the pain that kept him from rising was nothing compared to the intense suffering of seeing Simo wounded.

“Where is that blood coming from? Before—”

Loki’s mind clouded, then suddenly absorbed all the scenes he had witnessed in that confrontation.
What exactly was he saying? When he had located Simo’s position, there was already blood on his balaclava. He was breathing with difficulty and exhausted, his eyes bright with pain and fatigue that weakened him.
And during their encounter, Simo had sighed several times in pain, those beautiful eyes on the verge of tears.

“How did he get hurt?” Loki’s violet irises widened in horror: “I didn’t hurt him, it’s impossible! I made sure the clones didn’t take a single hair! Did I lose control over them for a moment? But I would have noticed!” placing a hand on his chest, Loki realized he couldn’t control the agitation growing inside him: “And if it wasn’t me, the only… possible explanation is that—”

A jolt made him release a stifled, painful sob.
Simo was receiving the backlash from his own attacks. It was the price of having formed a bond with one of Brunhilde’s sisters.

“…is that how it happened? Radgridr and Simo met because Brunhilde acted beforehand? Did she do it to prepare them? To encourage them to strengthen a bond that could break what exists between Simo and me!?” Loki’s eyes filled with tears: “…and he was willing to hurt himself to stop me?”

The Simo he loved had been with him, under the blankets, until dawn. Covered in kisses and love bites, declarations of love and promises, with a warm, loving, welcoming gaze.
Not the Simo in front of him, forcing himself forward; his face visibly pale and tired, blood still staining his balaclava abundantly, but doing everything possible not to kneel and surrender.

“Was it me… who put him in this state?”

He had hurt the one he had sworn to protect. Could there be a more outrageous sin?

-Simo.-

-Surrender.- Simo spoke again, his voice hoarse and lower than before. Masking the pain, no matter how well he did it, was an arduous battle to maintain.

-For what? To go back home?- Loki asked with a bitter laugh.

“Yes.” Simo didn’t speak, but his eyes shouted a resounding yes.

Loki closed his eyes, agitated. His mind traveled to memories full of nature, animals, and a monotonous routine, in a home where he and Simo shared laughter, smiles, arguments, confessions, and intimate moments.
More than any other memory, his mind recalled an early winter night, wrapped in the warmth of the crackling fireplace and a light blanket, sitting on the sofa, lazily resting his head on Simo’s head.

-I don’t like being without you.- he had confessed, as if it weren’t already obvious.

-You were in a meeting, and I was hunting. It was inevitable.-

-Tsk. More than inevitable, I’d say we let ourselves be trampled by annoying responsibilities.-

-And we must take care of it ourselves, Loki. No one else can.-

-And why not? Who decided?- he had stifled a yawn, letting Simo’s delicate hand hold his under the blanket: -We could stay here cuddled and do as we please. Ignore everyone and build our own nest of happiness. No conflicts, no meetings, no tasks… creating such a world would be possible.-

-I couldn’t.- contradicting him, Simo let his gaze remain trapped in the flames dancing hesitantly in the firewood: -And even if such a world could exist, it wouldn’t be for me.-

Loki clicked his tongue against his palate, dissatisfied. It was a conscious habit he had recently acquired: -You and your sense of duty to help others.-

-It’s not about good judgment, nor helping others.- Simo narrowed his eyes, thoughtful: -It’s about valuing the importance of our moments, not taking them for granted. I couldn’t smile in an immutable, perfect reality different from the one we live. We are surrounded by good and hostile people, by injustices and beauties, but isn’t this duality what makes the world more beautiful?-

“You are the one who makes the world more beautiful. Others could die this very instant, and I wouldn’t care. Keeping your smile intact is what matters.” he wanted to reply, but the words died in his throat.

-Before I met you, I didn’t love myself. I hated myself, I wanted to die. Thanks to you, I learned to give meaning even to sins and bad things.- Simo’s gaze softened as it met his, bright and moved: -Living through the horrors of war allowed me to find you. And if my life had been perfect, in an equally perfect world, this wouldn’t have happened, or I wouldn’t have valued it.-

Loki felt himself melt at the contact of those cold, loving lips against his temple.

-Do you still think this world of duties and inconveniences isn’t worth living?-

“Yes, Simo. My thinking hasn’t changed.” Loki stood up with effort, the distant shouts of Heimdall announcing that the confrontation was still not over: “But you, in a world without men and ambiguity, would lose your smile. Your guilt, your suffering… facing the reality of being the only surviving human, would intensify.”

Clinging to the tree trunk, he noticed how the barrel of Simo’s rifle was pointing upward.

“And I don’t want that.”

But it was precisely because the world was made of ambiguity that neither of them would achieve victory through the other’s surrender. Zeus might even appear merciful and unexpectedly lenient, but the most his godly pride could grant was to nullify the confrontation and leave the score 5-5 intact. And that, for humanity, would have been a far worse outcome than defeat - a vast, invisible step toward misery.

-About this step…- he moved a few steps toward him, then stopped. His legs felt heavy and sore: -We’ll never finish.-

Simo did not take his eyes off him. Loki felt that gaze, like a silent plea, piercing his very soul.

With effort, weighed down by the exhaustion of body and emotion, he approached Simo, grasping his shoulders with a sigh of relief. Simo was still pointing the rifle at him, but his grip had loosened. Despite all the malice directed at him, he had not ceased to trust.

With a caress, Loki touched the clean part of Simo’s balaclava, delighting in the soft contact of his skin against his fingertips. The furrowed brows of bitterness could not fully express the weight of his actions, but Simo must have noticed, because his eyes, locked on Loki’s, reflected significant pain.
The remnants of the anger that had dominated him had completely vanished, and Loki felt a measure of relief. Seeing Simo angry at him had never been easy to endure.

-If humanity were exterminated… would you be sad?-

He didn’t expect an answer. Simo had been very clear through his actions instead. Even with sealed lips and ragged breathing, he conveyed everything that in spoken conversation might have lost importance.

“Please, stop.” the gaze he loved so much screamed desperately for surrender, and it would not cease.

-Ah, Simo… you’re particularly insistent. But very well, I will do it.-

Simo’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Holding his breath unconsciously, Loki allowed his free hand to rest on Simo’s fingers near the trigger.

-I surrender.-

-Incredible!- Heimdall, incredulous like all the spectators of the confrontation, transformed his astonishment into a genuine shout of disbelief: -The Supreme Loki has declared surrender!-

-Whaaaat—?!- Ares wavered between shock and indignation: -Why do you surrender? Your opponent is right in front of you! Don’t do it!-

-Brother Ares…-

-I know, Hermes! I know!- Ares clenched a fist: -Loki and the sniper have a relationship, and his decision was made because he doesn’t want to kill him! But there are other ways to defeat him! Is it possible that that idiot doesn’t understand—!?- he exclaimed naively, urging Zeus to remain silent.

-What one has to hear…- even Buddha could not comprehend Loki’s surrender: -After all the chaos he’s caused, now he wants to indulge himself with this whim? His adolescence is, to put it mildly, slippery…-

But Brunhilde did not share that astonishment. Her chest tightened with a growing sense of unease that brought tears to her eyes.

-Little Bru, don’t tell me you had also foreseen—.-

A shot.

It only took one to make everyone's blood run cold, and their gazes turned to the screens in haste and confusion.

Loki's body had been thrown backward, and a river of blood flowed from his forehead, which had been hit squarely.
The smile on his lips was stained with a few drops of blood, and the tears, previously held back, now wet his cheeks in an expression of involuntary pain.

"Forgive me, Simo."

Betraying him, abusing his trust, he placed his thumb over the index finger, causing the trigger to be pulled and firing directly at his face.

“For your safety and your smile… I offer you my life.”

All the beautiful moments spent with Simo passed through his mind in a single breath, and the god of Deception found solace in the memory of that low, warm laughter, in those eyes sweet only for him, in that smile that had made his heart burst with joy.

“Thank you for allowing me to be by your side. Thank you for making me feel such happiness. Thank you for giving me the chance to be yours.”

His cooking, his kisses, his care… every action Simo had directed at him was imbued with love and devotion.
Even in death, he would never forget it.

“I love you.”

And Simo, seeing him fall to the ground, went black.

A long, excruciating pain stole his breath, and with the rifle trembling in his hands, he could not look away from the terrible sight of Loki’s blood staining the snow.

-…Loki…-

The echo of Loki’s laughter, which had brought him relief day after day, was already turning into a distant memory.

-LOKI!-

Every step he took was torture, and his muscles and organs begged for mercy, but he did not want to stop. He had no intention of doing so.

Loki was leaving him. He was disappearing.
His body was disintegrating.

“No… nononononono—!”

Loki’s lips were losing color. Yet the smile they held intact did not lose its beauty.

Tripping in the snow and falling onto it, Simo, abandoning the rifle that had fallen with him, gathered all his strength to at least get onto his knees. Cold, abundant tears streamed down his cheeks in a cruel sentence. Crawling, the urge to scream was enormous, as was the desire to reach him.

-L-Lo—!-

His heart could not bear it.

When Loki’s body turned to green dust that rose into the sky, the pain was unbearable, and his duty, his love, his principles… were violently torn from him.

-L-Loki…-

Broken and exhausted, he let his legs give way, letting his body fall back onto the snow.

One arm, in vain, stretched forward to reach the one who, with his foolishness, had taken his life. A pathetic attempt to hold him back and not let him go alone.

Then, there was only darkness.

{…even if we never get married… even if you manage to kill me… I…
I could never bring myself to hate you. You are far too important.
[…]
But please, no matter what happens… whatever it is you come to know about me…
I beg you, never stop loving me.
[…]
Don’t forget me.}

He didn’t remember much from the previous hours.

Simo found himself in the bed of the infirmary, with Kille looking at him with wide, worried eyes, and Radgridr, still unconscious, receiving the care he needed.

The voices of the nurses were a muffled echo in his ears, and the pain from the lost organs felt moderate and bearable. He didn’t know exactly what those divine nurses had done to him, but it was evident to him that they had inserted new organs, as the void he had felt from their loss had disappeared.

The truth, however, was simple.
He would have gladly given up all his organs if it had brought Loki back to his side.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Loki’s soul had reached total destruction, and no belief or miracle would return the god of Mischief to his arms.
His eyes didn’t stray from his hands or the blankets, and they hadn’t shed a single tear. Empty and lifeless, they fixed on an indefinite point until dusk.

Humanity was in the lead, and Brunhilde had gotten what she wanted. But at what cost?

He didn’t know if Ragnarok was still underway. Indifference had prevailed over his duty to remain in bed and avoid exertion. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, glancing at Kille, who had folded one front paw in concern, he limped toward the exit, leaning several times on the furniture and the nearest wall.

The thudding of his steps, relentless, pushed him to continue to his room. He had to stop three times in a row to catch his breath. Kille followed slowly, letting out occasional whimpers, as if urging him to return, imploring him.
Just as he deeply felt Loki’s absence, Kille did too, through his constantly lowered ears, the way his gaze seemed to wait for someone’s arrival, and his large, bright blue eyes. But the concern he felt for his master remained immense.

Passing by Rasputin’s cell, he barely heard -You’ve fulfilled my prophecy, White Death.- but he didn’t respond, reply, or silence him.
And he didn’t heed the young Valkyrie Hlökk’s recommendations either: he remembered her from witnessing Jack the Ripper’s fight and seeing her fly away from the arena, and he didn’t expect to see her so soon.

-Are you crazy or what?! You have to go back to the infirmary before you collapse on the floor!-

-My lady…-

-Don’t interfere, Jack!- Hlökk hid her worry behind anger, hands on her hips, stepping closer: -You’re going to make his four-legged friend and my sister worry!-

-He should be allowed to experience the inner conflict he is going through. Unfortunately, falling into the abyss of despair is not something one can control.-

-Yes, but—!-

-Lord Häyhä is in mourning.-

Hlökk saddened at the statement and said no more. She could have left, but Jack’s heterochromatic eyes, attentive and respectful, made the pain in her heart even more lethal.

-You can observe the colors of people’s emotions.-

-Oh?-

Jack and Hlökk looked at him, surprised, but it was Jack who kept his mouth slightly open to express more clearly his pleasant astonishment.

-I’m glad you remembered, Sir.-

-Loki.- his name echoed down the hallway like a painful invocation: -Did he hate me?-

Hlökk instinctively turned to Jack, but he didn’t glance at her or at the suffering sniper.

-His conviction is very tragic…- Jack looked toward the ceiling, recalling the intensity of colors surrounding Loki until his last breath: -But he is wrong. Lord Loki, in his heart, had no space for hatred. Not toward you.-

-Häyhä…- Hlökk felt helpless and uncomfortable. Seeing tears run down Simo’s face reminded her once again how ruthlessly unfair Ragnarok was.

-The color he emanated was beautiful.- Jack confessed, his mouth full of truth: -A love so intense, blind, and dazzling never stopped surrounding him. And in the final seconds of his confrontation…- the Death Artist looked at him again: -That love became blinding. I’ve never seen one so twisted and yet so pure. I consider it a fabulous contradiction.-

Knowing this was an additional condemnation: the relief he felt only tore his heart further and made him question himself.
He should have died in his place. He could have reached him, prevented them from being separated.

-Live for him, Sir Simo.- but Jack didn’t let him: -It is the selfish desire that drove him to accept death without remorse. It would be a shame to waste it.-

And now, confined in what had become his room, every object inflicted wounds that could no longer heal.
Loki’s personal belongings hadn’t magically returned to the room, and that drove him mad: his absence was like harsh slaps returning him to the cruel reality where Loki no longer existed, no longer stood by his side, no longer loved him.

He would never hear his laughter again, never be wrapped in his arms or showered with his sweet and cloying phrases.
He would never smile at his jokes or his countless attempts to make him laugh.

The vase Loki had gifted him remained firm and imposing where he had placed it, and the snakes and dogs still leaned on each other, something they would never do again. The white lilies, delicate and pure, hadn’t lost their scent, but it had become nauseating.
And Simo had remained seated on the bed for many hours; the distinction between morning and afternoon had become irrelevant, and that cursed scent was the only excuse keeping him from giving in. His legs, pressed against his chest, trembled, and his open, empty eyes relived in an infernal cycle Loki’s death, who until the previous day had promised he would marry him and make him even more his.

And that would never happen. His ring finger remained bare of that ring that could have made him the happiest man in the world.

-L-Loki…- he gritted his teeth in desperation and rage, hoping he was trapped in a terrible nightmare from which Loki would pull him: -Come back, I b-beg you…-

Kille had climbed onto the bed to lie beside him and rub his snout against his right arm, urging him to get up.

But he couldn’t. Not yet.
Not with Loki’s diary lying to his left, open, with torn pages filled with inked threats and love promises.

Had Loki left it there on purpose to take revenge, or was it a carelessness?

Ah, but what did it matter?
Loki had poured his feelings, plans, and obsessions onto those pages, and he hadn’t noticed a thing. He deserved to suffer, to live with that weight.

So that Loki would never be forgotten.

And so that the fragments of the prophecy he had fulfilled through his negligence could tear his heart apart with eternal torment.