The Scenery of That Shot, and a Contract with the God of Mischief

Crack! Rumble!

Thor flew out of the lightning-filled night sky and threw his brother Loki onto a cliff.

Loki's back slammed into the rocks, drawing a pained cry from him before he began to laugh.

"Where's the Cosmic Cube?"

"I missed you too, brother."

"Do I look like I'm in the mood to fool around with you?" Thrór snapped angrily.

"You should be thanking me." Loki got to his feet. "Without the Bifrost, how much dark energy did Odin have to gather to send you here? To your beloved Earth."

Thrór strode forward and seized Loki by the collar, his eyes full of grief. "I thought you were dead."

"Did you mourn for me?"

"We all mourned. Our Father King..."

"Your Father King." Loki cut him off, then broke free from Thrór's grip. "He told you about my origins, didn't he?"

Thrór stared blankly at him. "We grew up together, played together, fought together. Have you forgotten all of it?"

"I only remember the shadows," Loki said flatly. "I was always shrouded in your great shadow. I only remember you pushing me into the abyss. I was a king, and I should have been a king."

"So you think you were slighted, and now you're destroying the world I love to get back at me?

Forget it. I'll protect Earth, Loki."

"Hahaha, you're doing a wonderful job of it." Loki sneered. "Humans slaughter each other, and you stand by doing nothing.

I want to rule them. What's wrong with that?"

Thrór shook his head in disappointment. "You think you're above them?"

"Of course." Loki answered without hesitation. Gods were inherently superior to humans.

"Then you've misunderstood the true meaning of ruling, brother." Thrór was furious at his failure to live up to expectations. "You're not fit to be a king."