This was all a series of strange events that culminated in the strangest yet. Loki had carefully folded up the hastily scrawled notes she had found in her own hand, ink still staining her fingertips, but no memory of ever writing them. Warnings from a version of herself she knew almost nothing about. Coupled with the brief vision the High Priestess had shown her... there was no doubt that she was not who she thought she was. But that was all she knew.
Loki knew the way to the family hive. It was a second home to her, once. Now, it felt... off. Like it didn't belong. Or like she didn't belong. Loki had always been just a little too wild to fully belong in Death, but today she was unusually somber. She glanced over a list of names one last time before hiding it away in one of her many pockets. There weren't many on it, but the few that were had been crossed out and replaced with bland, human ones. Including --
"Mother?" Loki called out. For the first time, she hoped Nine wasn't actually home. It would have made this so much easier.
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