"Mother, there's light over there. Look! Finally. I thought we'd all gone night-blind."
Loki supported Frigga as they slowly made their way through the pitch-black surroundings. Before long, however, they noticed a beam of light in the distance. It was faint, like a streetlamp on a foggy street corner, but it was still a source of light.
He was starting to want a bath. This dimension was black everywhere—not darkness, but a smeared, grimy black that made everything feel filthy.
Like the coal pits Dwarves mined in, or the inside walls of some boiler.
"Hehe, night blindness is a disease only humans get. That sort of blindness wouldn't make anyone wiser, either. It's hardly a good thing. Come on, let's head toward the light. I hope your brother and Sif are both safe."
Frigga gave the livestream toolkit in her hand a little shake and broke into a sprint, moving as fast as a jet.
There was nothing wrong with her physical condition, and she did not need support. She had only allowed her second son to help her earlier because she did not want to reject his filial concern.
It was true that they were both Mages, but Asgardian spellcasters were not like mortal Mages. In practice, they were more like Magic Warriors, and training the body was an essential part of their cultivation.
"Hehe, Mother, you're too fast. Wait for me."
Loki deliberately pretended to be slower than his mother and happily ran after Frigga. Now that he knew Deathstroke might be watching them somewhere, he chose to enjoy the journey.
One ran while the other gave chase. If there had been any roadside scenery here at all, the sight of the beautiful mother and child running through the wilderness would surely have become an artist's masterpiece.
Soon,