Wouldbe Gods

"As you can surmise, there is no Valhalla," said the pink-haired man with golden eyes.

The words were spoken slowly, Loki suspected, for the benefit of his reeling mind.

Not for you. But you already knew that, didn't you?

It had all come crashing down on him in the end. All his carefully laid plans leading to nothing. Thanos crushing his windpipe--but Loki wasn't going to think on that just now.

"And Thor?" His voice cracked over his brother's name. He licked his dry lips and willed his hands to stop shaking. He had done it all for Thor, weighed the odds and balanced things in his brother's favor. For once.

A cruel bark of laughter in response.

"How very droll of you to ask." Loki was too far gone to bristle at the words.

The being sauntered closer, radiating a power unlike any Loki experienced before. He felt his seidr swell up in response but it was paltry in comparison to the crushing pressure this entity was exerting on him.

It felt like being near Thanos all over again, except somehow Loki knew this thing was infinitely stronger.

"I've been observing you for a long time, Loki." The way his name rolled off the being's tongue was like a promise. "And it is my hypothesis that..."

His tongue was in knots and briefly Loki wondered if it was fear or this unnerving presence that silenced him. He resented it all the same.

"You will make a nice addition." To what, the being didn't say, but it was made apparent that it wasn't good by the appreciative smirk that curved up toward cruel golden eyes.

"What?" Loki would find reasons for his inelegance later. For now, he simply wanted answers.

"My, my, and here I'm used to you being so much more verbose. Though I suppose death does have that effect. Such a shame." Again came the cruel laughter, but Loki was quickly finding understanding in the words. His spine straightened as he gathered his wits about him like a cloak.

"Your generosity does not go unnoticed," Loki said, and it was a test. "I do hope you'll forgive my lack of sufficient awareness about the situation."

The being clapped his hands together. There was a hungry look in his eyes that Loki didn't like. "Marvellous." Loki understood this as the recognition it was even before he was offered a name. "I am Szayel Aporro Granz, the Octava Espada."

Szayel spread his arms wide before offering a dramatic bow.

Loki recognized grandstanding when he saw it. He wasn't sure if it was meant to mock him or if this Szayel enjoyed similar proclivities. He rolled this and the unfamiliar title around in his mind a moment before responding.

"Please enlighten me, Octava Espada, as to what happens next. If it's not too much trouble, that is." Loki couldn't help the last. He'd seldom ever been able to hold his tongue with his anger sufficiently aroused.

Szayel made a pleased noise in his throat, showing no care for Loki's cheek. It took Loki aback for a second, but then Szayel did seem something of a narcissist. "Octava will do. I am a busy man, as you'll soon note."

"Then, I thank you for your valuable time, Octava," Loki replied without hesitation. He molded his body language to something slightly more deferential.

More pleased sounds followed. "Indeed. Now, if you'll follow me."

Loki doubted he had a choice. He made his feet move and as he did the fog surrounding his senses peeled away and he found himself in a vast nighttime desert.