The end of the world is coming. We all know it. I think we knew it the moment Odin and I first met—any indication of camaraderie between a god and a giant was unthinkable. But that was just the first thread of the unraveling world tapestry. Considering my betrayal toward the giants, the gods treating my children like beasts, and my own ignorance regarding the futility of divine power, I’m surprised the world is still standing. I’m surprised the gods can move on unchanged, even after the death of their Prince, the Shining One, the sum of all that’s good and worthwhile in the world.
Yggdrasil forbid they should ever admit to a mistake or a flaw, or own up to their share of blame.
If you haven’t guessed, I’m Loki, member of the Jotun giant race, sworn blood-brother of the supreme god Odin. If you’ve heard of me, you’ve heard that I’m wicked, that I’m the greatest enemy of the gods, and that I began the chain of events that promise the end of the world. Well, yes, that’s all true—but not for the reasons you think.