Hidden Agenda

Loki felt quite pleased with himself.

Toying with those who opposed him again and again, especially those close to He-El, keeping He-El busy, guilty, and hating him—it truly was a delightful game.

In this grand game, watching He-El struggle endlessly, making him watch the people around him reveal painful expressions, was truly a most pleasurable thing.

Inside a villa in Washington's uptown district, an ordinary, portly businessman held a glass of red wine in his right hand and watched Iron Man, wearing another suit of armor, enter a cloaked Manta Ray spacecraft in the sky.

"Hahahahahahahaha..."

Loki could not help laughing. The corners of his mouth stretched to his ears as he laughed without restraint, tears even seeping from the corners of his eyes.

As he laughed with pleasure for a while and closed his eyes, his vision turning dark while the tears at his eyes dampened the lines at their corners.

He opened his eyes again.

All at once, his surroundings had become Asgard. Massive, ornately carved pillars held up the heavens, emanating the weight of history and an epic grandeur. At the banquet, drums and music rang out, the gods raised their cups in celebration, and Asgardian dancers whirled across the hall.

Loki immersed himself in the scene, as though he had returned home from a distant age. The fragrance of goddesses at his side and the bold voices of the gods entered his ears. In his daze, it felt as though he had always been here.

The gods still raised their cups to him with courtesy toward his status and contempt in their hearts, laughing loudly as they drank from their goblets.

There were also goddesses with spring in their eyes, their drifting silks lightly brushing across his cheeks.

His eyes grew slightly unfocused as he began