Everything That Ends, 3

He approached his downed foe for the second time, but now he moved with an air of caution. He knelt over the man, and reached for his hood. As his fingers connected with the fabric he felt the color drain from the room, and soon found himself kneeling in what appeared to be an endless expanse of nothing. He clenched his teeth and exhaled what little patience he had through his flared nostrils.
“Art thou amused, Loki?”
The shroud faded and Thor was once again in his bedchamber.
Loki stood over his brother, smiling at the figure of a kneeling God.
“Father calls for us.”
He turned and exited, fading into the door rather than opening it. Thor stared at the fractures running through the walls of his room.
“Always another trick, never simply opening the door.”
He lifted his hammer and exited out into the hallway.
“The handles are composed of finest gold, and yet he ignores them entirely.”
Thor considered the problem deeply as he walked, and still he could only come to one conclusion.
“Loki, thou art an ass.”

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