JOTUNHEIM: VICTOR
Clutching his wrist, the uncomfortable warmth seared through his wrist. Blasted son of Odin's healing touch. His black feathered wings closed behind him as he sat under the waning sun. He reflected on the truth had shown him. Had he been stronger, he could have saved his friends, and his love and compassion had inhibited that. Just look how powerful he became after he let go. But that warmth in his wrist ached and sowed a seed of doubt in his mind: what was he doing? The original Victor would never have done what he'd done. Another line of thought cut himself off: The previous Victor was weak. And he had a plan to make things right eventually. He would have to walk his path alone past the point of no return. Victor felt his black wings and they unfurled.
Was he happy to see Maximilian alive? Perhaps? Truth be told, he couldn't let Maximilian see what he'd become. What he'd done. Flashes of screams and the taste of blood still pervaded his senses. Loki words in that adventure rang "You are my monster now." Victor fought to suppress that memory. He remembered when Loki left him in his Hall of Loki: "Victor, wait here. Your mother and I are leaving for a short while." When Maximilian opened the door, he felt he had gone too far and that Maximilian would hate him for who he had become.
But he didn't.
And it was too late. He couldn't turn back now. He just wanted Maximilian to fear him like the monster he was, then maybe he wouldn't feel so bad about the evils he had committed. All the pain he induced was a self loathing statement on his own misery. However no matter how much pain he inflicted on Maximilian he seemed to never hate him, the healing touch gave him a temporary sense of self and relief from the pain that he'd been burning up with. And he feared having to face himself and what he'd done.
Victor launches into the sky towards the horizon. Towards the One Sea where Loki has told him to find their next recruit.
A truly terrible force.
