In the library once built by the Beyonders, the Black Swans stood in silence. This army of assassins, composed of the same woman from different Timelines, was awaiting the orders of their god—the Great Destroyer.
But evidently, there were not many worlds left. As tools, they had begun to feel uneasy, worried that their master would discard them once they lost their usefulness.
To the Swans, it did not matter whether the guide who had appeared before them when their families were destroyed and they themselves were about to die had been a god or a devil. They only wanted to correct this wrong world—or perhaps they wanted nothing at all.
As Deathstroke and Loki passed through the pitch-black corridor, the women watched from nearby. They whispered among themselves, but it was all baseless speculation and apprehension.
"The last time I was the center of everyone's attention was in Asgard," Loki said, smiling as she waved at the audience. "But that wasn't a particularly good memory. Baldr really deserved to die, just as you arranged."
"Timelines, life and death, cycles—these are all things that require careful consideration, Loki." Deathstroke removed his mask and lowered his head to light a cigarette as he walked. The flame briefly illuminated his face before he vanished into the darkness again. "If you're still a three-dimensional creature, you'd best not meddle with higher-dimensional things so casually. Whenever you and Thor speak around me, you always bring up Asgard. What are you hinting at?"
The God of Mischief shrugged. She looked innocent, yet she was also frank.
"I was just sounding you out. You know, once you achieve your goal, could you help Yggdrasil grow faster?"
"You know we're talking about an Elder God, right? Yggdrasil isn't a simple tree. It has desires of its own."