When I began to notice that the Asgardians behaved differently from the past, it was half a year after I came back from Svartalfheim and took the Odin Scepter. At that time, I almost forgot how the ether flowed into the atrium, and I had no time to care about Thor. Whereabouts in the Nine Realms.
Although the reputation of the Asa Protoss in the Nine Realms has long been dilapidated, I remember that they are definitely not naive and blind fools-I certainly remember how they laughed at me in the past, and how they reluctantly humbled in times of crisis. I have never felt less hated because of these old things-so when witnessing a series of ridiculous words and deeds gradually spread throughout the country, any sensible mind will make the same judgment as mine: attribute it to a disease .
At first I thought it was to please me. They seem to be talking witty words all the time-either to boast of their own humor, or to tease the audience, but if the latter is not sensitive to such "high-level" jokes-often because of unfamiliarity with the quoted material, or this joke My own botchedness—then the jokes degenerate into confusing embarrassment. Even so, the audience can still turn back and forth as if they understand the essentials. Only then can I really be amused and squeezed out a drop or two. Real tears came out.
The high entertainment mood has amazing contagious power. It appears on more and more faces. It is not so much joy from the heart, but more like being dominated by some kind of self-contained madness, as if their souls have long melted, Sheng The loaded container is filled with sweet and greasy, showing a similar morbid state. When the palace guards also ridiculed each other's warhammer sizes throughout the day, I decided that it was necessary to evaluate the degree of strangeness of the Asa Protoss through experiments.
The first experiment was to build a monument for Loki. After the order was issued, it did not unexpectedly drew a lot of opposition, which proved that the gods did not lose their memory, which is a good thing. The strange thing is that this monument actually started to build itself in the midst of swearing and sarcasm. It is not that it was raised on its own through some spell, but that it is indeed like other cities, palaces, and municipal projects in Asgard. Implemented methodically, even though everyone thought the idea was bad.
In order to understand the confusion, I participated in this project and became an ordinary member of it, so that I could secretly observe the words and deeds of others. After several months of conversation, I roughly understood the mystery.
Fundamentally, what drives the monument’s construction is neither an order from above nor obviously nor from the love of the gods, but for the purpose that everyone needs to have something to do, as the mortal song sings: "Farming Grain is harvested, and the food is exchanged for silk and silk. The silk and silk are sold to beauties, and beauties capture the king. "Work is the starting point of all transactions. The jester can consolidate his position by courting the king, the designer can only get paid when the designer comes up with a plan, and the sculptor must practice frequently to keep the sword alive. , No matter who it is, no one can do without work, even if this work becomes part of the evil, is cast aside and cursed, it cannot be stopped. I squatted in the corner and watched their mechanical movements, like a meaningless pantomime—no one questioned the purpose of work or the role of statues—work gave birth to the rich Asgard and determined the existence of the gods. Meaning and ensuring the energy balance of the Nine Realms, it reminds me of how they used to argue over things that are bigger than Sesame Mung Bean, which is beyond belief. I know that the atrium people also regard diligence as their virtue. Their country is not built by lazy people and swindlers. It is a sin to idle and idle, and I am a model of this evil and a negative teaching material used by parents to teach children.
Oops, thanks to the gods’ blind obedience to work, I can get a statue, right?
The pleasure brought about by doing nothing was quickly replaced by another absurdity. As the experiment progressed, I became more and more aware of the horror of this disease, and all the things I witnessed in the process made me more convinced. Destruction is the only way out.
At the beginning of the second year, the project was completed. Like most people, I was surprised at the statue delivered. Unlike them, I was more surprised by the vulgar aesthetics of the statue, and then disliked its huge proportions even more. At this point, I had no choice but to accept the bitter fruit of my own experiment. At the same time, I had the inspiration for a second experiment. If the gods ridiculed just because it was a statue based on Loki, but ignored the size and style of the statue as incompatible with the surrounding buildings, then I doubt it. Do they have the most basic appreciation:
I decided to arrange the most ridiculous drama in the most vulgar language I know, and stage it every time Sol and Mani show their faces, until there is no audience.
Of course, the most bizarre stories contain common sense, and there are also historical facts in the most magical legends. In order to enrich this comical drama, I also added a lot of my personal experience in Walter Alheim. The real material has been distorted. , Just like a dagger that has lost its sharp edge, it no longer has the power of breathtaking, but has become a tool to amuse the audience. When doing this, I am not without a bit of bitterness, but if you have a long lifespan like me, and happen to love fraud, it will not take long for you to get used to self-deprecating and hiding your emotions. The pain will always go by over time. Dissipate, no matter how deep the wound is, it will heal and scab, and if you are unlucky, it will make you itchy.
After the story and the actors were confirmed, "Loki's Sacrifice" began to be staged in Asgard day and night. After a while, even I hadn't expected its popularity.
In terms of setting, I have tried my best to use the most crappy materials. All the lines only took me one night-in order to prevent the audience from thinking, I chose plain and vulgar words as much as possible... If there is any merit, it is probably the actor who played me always forgets The words made the performance not give full play to the power of the dirty script. However, with the increase in the number of performances, the actor's skills have been honed. By the time I went to watch the thousandth performance on the spot, he was already familiar with the lines. Yu Xin, at this point, I can also confidently announce: This drama is truly useless.
However, the people of Asgard seemed to have real fun from it. Their kind of loss of mind and joy also seemed to be completely released by watching the performance: the initial shouting came from a small group of good things borrowed from the rally. At the end of the first act, their drunkenness ignited the emotions of other audiences. The heads of people underneath, bottles of flowers and headdresses were thrown on the stage by snake-like dancing arms, causing the actor who played Malekith to appear on the stage. When the soles of the feet slipped and fell a head spring onion-"I am... oh!" So the audience shook up together-"Good day, oh! Good afternoon, oh!" I saw the actor get up and straighten the mask and continue to recite: "Stupid! You don't know anything about pain!" More headgear and even clothes were thrown on him: "Pain! More pain!" The people laughed at each other and yelled in imitation of the actors' tones, and the crowd showed more nakedness. What a bright buttocks and thighs, whistling and dancing.
They are fully involved in every scene, turning a blind eye to the artificial performance, seeming to experience the same dream, crying and laughing together. The only person on the scene who did not participate in the carnival was the blind Hodr. I walked over and pushed him and asked him what he saw.
"My King Odin, the almighty eye." He pretended to look around, rolling his eyes covered with white clouds, and gasping for breath. "I'm old and blind, please don't laugh at me."
I bent down, pressed close to his ear and whispered, "They are all sick."
He yelled, bounced away in shock, stretched out his dry hands in the air to scratch and scratched something, and began to sing and jump like the people around——
"I saw it! I saw it! The curtain is rising! The curtain is burning! Who is there? Who is there!"
I turned and looked at the direction he was facing: Sol’s sun wheel hung high on Asgard’s horizon, and a shining spot of light was approaching from its edge, Hodr’s voice echoed in my ears. It's like an increasingly urgent drumbeat, forcing me to suspend the current experiment, separate a part of my mind from the observation of the madness, to welcome the coming trial.
I love drama, not only because they bring together the thrilling moments of the long years, but what fascinates me is that only through the stage interpretation, the vain face can be insight-mind Simple audiences are often intoxicated by the illusion created by the set and actors; sensitive and optimistic spectators will recognize this with heartfelt laughter; neurotic pessimists will have uncontrollable disgust, and even run away from the theater because they heard it. Laughter from behind the scenes. This is destined to have a strong curiosity about what secrets are hidden behind the curtain from the moment I start drama creation.
I always thought Thor would be the first type of audience, a lucky fool. Now it seems to be a big mistake. The first thing he did when he returned to his hometown was to stop the drama and order the audience to leave the venue to make the momentum. The vast experiment put out the fire. I tried to invite him to sit down and take the opportunity of watching the show to see the fierce momentum of this madness, but I was rejected mercilessly. On the bright side, it proved that his mind has not been corroded.
"The Nine Realms have long been chaotic, do you still have fun drinking and having fun?"
After his questioning, I was even more sure of my guess that the disease that can spread to the Nine Realms so quickly should perhaps be called a plague.
"Dear hero, are you sure you haven't added a mess?" I pointed to his skull behind him.
"Aha, on the contrary, you have to thank me for pacifying this demon."
Shit, I rolled my eyes like Hodr.
A long, long long time ago, before Odin interfered in Musbelheim’s affairs, Surtur and his people in the land of fire lived a peaceful life, until at some unknown moment, the fire of Surtur was burned to the gods of Asa. Jurisdiction, angered Odin-at least the historical text was written in this way after several revisions-since then the king has been cursed by reincarnation, making him have to fight us every few hundred years, and again and again It ended in failure. Young Asgardians often close their books when they read here, start to yearn for the next battle, and even take down the head of Surtur. Thor is a typical example. Unlike others, he does have a fantasy Realistic capital.
Even if Surtur grows nine heads, it is not enough. In order to satisfy the ambitions of passionate young people like Thor, I must remind myself to free our old friend Surtur from all kinds of embarrassment every few hundred years. The forgetful gods have always been too lazy to pursue the repeated resurrection of the flame giant. This old guy who fell into the eternal robbery and returned to the abyss became a resident actor on the fairy palace stage. Of course Odin knew that I secretly released the war criminals, and initially threatened to break my leg bones. After several times, the old fox finally understood my good intentions, so he opened one eye and closed one eye and stopped asking too much. .
Who knows that Thor, a fool, rushes to make trouble again? I watched him take Surtur's head from his back, and shed tears in my heart for the poor old guy.
How many heroes are desired by the audience, and how many contradictions are produced. I am well versed in the routines of script creation, because reality is probably nothing more than that.
Thor has grown into a hero in this way. I can feel confident confidence in his clear eyes, just as I can see real fear in the hollowed-out eye sockets of Surtur. The two are completely opposite at first glance. But the history of reincarnation is weakening each other's characteristics, making them gradually converge and become something that is irrelevant to the noble or the base, and in my opinion is irrelevant. It seems that after a heavy tragedy has been observed a thousand times, it becomes as light as a feather like a comedy.
But can we say that comedy is a simpler path?
When I was about to come to a conclusion, Thor raised mjolnir:
"Where is my father? Don't force me to let you go." Oh, there are so many crazy people dancing around, but he just pointed the finger at me.
The curtain is raised, staged, bowed, returned, curtain call, dress changed, makeup removed.
Taking off Odin's costume, I shook off a phantom and assumed a humble posture, like a real artist, and would not refuse all kinds of comments.
"Of course, I can't settle him better!"
Thor's blindness to the pandemic that is currently raging in the fairy palace makes me a little disappointed. Although the disease has not changed the appearance of the gods, any companion who has had a deep friendship with them should be able to see at a glance that there is something wrong with their mentality. On the way to the atrium across the Hongqiao Bridge, I carefully tested him: "Just take this as a gift to welcome you home. Don't you think I am more creative than any Asgardian?"
"It's not funny at all, Loki, I watched you die, I mourned for you, and shed tears for you."
What he said made me feel a little guilty, but this little bit of long-lost true feelings was immediately rejected by my stubborn body, leaving only three points of pride for myself and seven points of ridicule for the other party:
"'The throne makes you sit on pins and needles.' Remember brother? With my own practice, it doesn't seem to be as bad as you think."
"You exiled our father."
"Father is too early to abdicate."
"You expelled Heimdall."
"Who wants to be watched by Big Brother all day?"
"You are negligent in governance."
"Asgard is thriving, and the fairy palace sings and dances."
Seeing that I was able to deal with it easily, Thor snorted and turned his head and stopped entangled with me. From the questioning point of view, his attention was almost entirely focused on trivial matters, without mentioning the epidemic at all, so I had to improve. Be vigilant and begin to assess the possibility of him being infected.
Revisiting the old place, just looking at it at first glance, I can say that the atrium is no less sick than Asgard. The reason for this affirmation is not because of those superheroes jumping up and down between high-rise buildings-I bought the local "Superhero Guide Map" when I visited New York last time. I am familiar with each other's camp and understand why the local people. I am accustomed to the demolition at two ends of the day-at this time, two Iron Man, three Spider-Man and various versions of X-Men drifted through the Flatiron District from my side. Superheroes are the same as our people in God's Domain. They need to be updated from time to time and keep up with the social trend. This is not difficult to understand. I will neither be shocked by their number nor be frightened by new faces... No, it really makes me. What can be felt from every pore is not the superhero itself.
To be precise, ordinary people who talk about superheroes.
On the way to the "Green Garden" nursing home, Thor and I encountered these ordinary atrium people with strange looks. You can think of the patients in Asgard, the kind of madness in the pupils, as long as you look at them for a second. , The joy on his face is exactly the same. For example, Thor asks the waiter for a hot dog at a fast food restaurant, "Need a superhero set meal?" He got this advice. If Thor insists on only hot dogs, the other party will start to enthusiastically promote: "Are you sure? I know you! You are worth a superhero package!" Thor is probably a little proud, so he adds money to buy the cola potatoes he doesn't need. Strips and salads. Do you think this is over? The atrium man grinned triumphantly, and continued to pursue the victory: "Do you want the Captain America package or the Iron Man package?" "Give me a Thor set meal." So and so, Thor is more real. Fortunately, the store was well prepared, and finally Thor got an extra sundae with a mini mjolnir inserted on it.
After eating, we continued to move forward. Soon we ran into a group of fanatics who were distributing leaflets calling for a petition to sign. We were abruptly stopped, and paper and pens were stuffed into our hands.
"I don't support superheroes." Feeling the disease at work, I covered my mouth and nose and waved at them.
"Unity will survive, and division will perish! I am for everyone, and everyone is for me!" one of them shouted outrageously, obviously very sick.
"What am I signing? Who do you support? Who do you oppose?" The kind Thor squeezed the pen and asked someone a question.
"Please support Captain America! He represents justice and freedom!" The man flushed with excitement.
"Aha, I know him!" Thor glanced at me deliberately, "'A soldier, out of date'."
"Which proposition do you support him?" I frowned.
When asked in this way, the atrium person began to speak incoherently, and he talked about Captain America's great achievements and legendary life, as if as long as the image of Steve Rogers is more stalwart, the more I should support him. As the material was consumed, this person slowed down, the strange light in his eyes gradually dimmed, only mechanically repeating "freedom" and "justice" to me, and I responded with "advocates" and "viewpoints." It’s strange to say that after going around like this, most of the morbid enthusiasm on this person’s face has disappeared, and his expression is no longer crazy. In the end, he realized that it is necessary to persuade myself before convincing me and take back the paper from my hand. Pen, withdrew and left the petition group, muttered and left alone.
When the man was sent away, I heard a tumult nearby—the "Captain America faction" and the "Iron Man faction" were fighting for Thor's vote. What is puzzling is that you can't get rid of their noise. Understand the political opinions of both parties: one party started to shout ism, the other party shouted about the system, one party switched to talking about human rights, and the other party returned to the spirit. When ism and morality didn’t work, both parties became a little frustrated, so they moved out of scandals and rumors to smear. On the other side, in a short while, Captain America and Iron Man degenerate from "a symbol of the American spirit" and "futuristic pioneer" to "accomplices of murderers" and "running dogs of the government." Arguably for this reason, both sides of the ripped skin should be ashamed, but you see-instead of showing a fierce face, they are getting better, and their eyes are pure and scary. What's more incredible is that the one who infected them The lesion, as if feeding on the indispensable superiority of its host, actually took shape, transformed into two huge ghosts attached to the back of the two factions. I took a closer look and it turned out to be the appearance of Captain America and Iron Man! Under their control, the petitioners underneath lost their last bit of patience, fell into madness collectively, and began to fight with each other. At this time, I had forgotten to explore the original purpose of this petition. I was witnessing the whole street fight. After the fermentation process, I have a completely new understanding of the nature of the plague. Where did it come from and when it started is still unknown, but what is certain is that it was born with fanaticism and developed out of blindness. Where, reason is swallowed, value is dispelled, and replaced by endless vain, like a vulgar drama, looping in every corner of the Nine Realms.
With the development of civilization, the gods served by the atrium people are constantly changing their faces. For thousands of years, the gods took turns to retreat from the altar to make room for the rising stars. Among them are unspeakable people, eternal spirits, and even some indescribable things. The form and content can be described as strange in form and content. Only the theme remains the same-the unconditional and unshakable fanaticism of believers is needed as the cornerstone of the temple. In the age when they believed in the Assa gods, there was a god behind almost all signs and phenomena: the one who won the war was favored by Odin; the husband and wife must be blessed by Frigga to grow old together; the farmers were pleased Looking up to Thor's thunder in spring; as for me, whether it is a joke or a prank, amusement or a betrayal, it is my masterpiece. It is indeed easy for the public to perform their duties in this way, but too often it is too simple and rude. For example, in Thor's view, the reason why this petition suddenly turned into a group fight must be my ghost.
It is undeniable that I have always been suspected of fanfare, but considering that I am well-behaved and quiet today, it is worth making an exception to defend myself.
"Boom—" As soon as I spoke, a loud noise immediately overwhelmed my voice, Thor turned his head to the sound source, and stopped listening to my explanation, which further deepened his attitude towards me for a long time. The stereotype that bad things can't escape".
That's right, the purpose of our trip is to lie on a ruined wall in front of our eyes, dusty. In order to make way for the municipal engineering, the "Green Garden" was demolished so that only a sign was left, not to mention Odin, and even a caregiver disappeared.
Alas! Before I had time to clean up my last grievance, I became the rumored "unfilial son" again. As common family ethics dramas interpret, at this moment the eldest son shows contemptuous eyes and his face is full of "I knew it." "It will be like this", which is slightly faster than the development of the script, the next second I was condemned by God and fell into a bottomless pit.
Unlike the feeling when the Hongqiao fell, this bottomless hole reminded me of the experience of being swallowed by my hungry son Jumon Gunde. The surrounding atmosphere was stagnant, heavy, and a little nauseous. It didn’t take long for me to mark the wall with a little fluorescent light. The mark will repeat-it proves that I am in a dilemma, but it is a distorted space that is bridged together, a common trick used by mages to gain time advantage.
If the other party needs this time, I can use it naturally.
A qualified mage always has room. We like to leave a clone to deal with minor matters, while the real body is busy handling important tasks in a safe place. Since Thor seems to be the "safe" one, before the opponent's clone comes to greet me, I can take this free time to appreciate the punishment and think about my own sins by the way...
…The cold wind whizzed through my ears, and I fell for more than a minute. The warlocks in the atrium were either trying their best to deal with Thor, or were not yet proficient in the clone art, so I didn’t come to meet with me yet. I felt a little bit chilly and changed. A blanket wraps me up so that I can feel a little more comfortable when I remember.
...Five minutes after the fall, the space bridge spells gradually made me taste a little bit--seriously, the sundae I had eaten at lunch now ran to my throat, prompting me to change the pillow cushion. Head and neck, just as I slapped this cheap gadget constructed by the illusion technique, the mage in the atrium was finally late to arrive.
Before I could blurt out the word "good", this person turned into a sandbox to isolate me from him, as if I were a vicious beast, even the clone could be torn to pieces.
"As for?" I spread out my hands, put away the blankets and pillows, and tapped the surface of the sandbox: "Your greeting is really strong enough, dare to ask (Mister)?"
"Dr. Stephen Strange." The other party's answer deliberately aggravated the title of "Doctor", presumably because he heard Mister as Master. "Loki, you brought evil and danger to earth, and I have an obligation to ask you to go back."
"how do I say this?"
"You can continue to pretend to be deaf, but Thor has told me the whole story, please don't involve the earth in your country's disputes."
"Everything is connected." A warlock prayed to be organized in the chaos. He should switch to science instead of witchcraft. I rubbed the wall of the sandbox and expanded the golden wire cage ten times its original size. In this way, the clone of Mr. Legend stood on the same plane as me, and the confrontation became stronger, forcing him to open his hands. Law circle. "I didn't bring a single soldier this time. The disease is raging in the fairy palace, but I followed the lesion to the atrium. What do you think of this?"
"In my opinion, the only stubborn illness lies in your filthy head. A snake is crawling on the ground, but it wonders why the surrounding creatures have to walk." Just like a qualified mage, this doctor of the atrium does not have the slightest amount of verbal skill. Inferior to its magic skills, if not more culmination.
The lid of the sandbox was opened, the plane was cut into countless crystalline particles, and rotated into the sky, like a kaleidoscope that was blooming. The space under my feet also deformed, breaking into a few irregular gears, biting and squeezing each other. Push the planes on both sides to expand outward along the fan-shaped trajectory, forming a flat and rugged space tunnel, with the sound of the clock ticking at both ends.
Some video clips played in this tunnel at a very fast speed. Most of them are my bad history and the deeds of how the atrium people defended their homes. The magnetic voice of Mr. Legend is interspersed as a narration: "You led the Chitauri forces to attack. Earth, New York City has suffered heavy casualties, and the Avengers resisted desperately; you and the dark elves have grieved and directed the war to the earth. If it were not for Thor's bloody battle, the consequences would be disastrous; even the scepter you left behind can cause all parties to fight and affect innocent civilians. . You have brought so many disasters, you still have the right to ask my opinion?"
"It's very interesting." I squeezed my thumb with my index finger to form a circle, and looked at each other from the circle with my left eye. When I released my finger, an otter appeared where Dr. Legend stood. "You mean evil god!" Otter cried angrily, but looked very cute.
"Great Doctor, have you ever wondered about the commonality of these disasters? Oh, don't say:'Loki is involved every time!' That is just to find reasons for preconceived stereotypes. Please calm down your anger and remember each time well. In the course of the disaster, can we see a certain...pattern more clearly? There are always signs of evil appearing first, secretly doing some unspeakable deeds, and then the righteous side is crushed for the first time and internal disagreements arise. When the evil came back with great fanfare, on the contrary, it gave the righteous people an excuse to unite. Finally, they worked together and went straight to Huanglong to disintegrate the evil forces."
I walked to the promenade where the video was played, and circled every historical picture with fluorescent light: "Loki, ask for trouble. Chitauri troops, terrible. Malekith, wiped out. This guy..." I stopped at a machine with red eyes. In front of the monster, he drew a big cross easily: "Although I have never seen this...'Terminator', I just glanced at it and knew his fate."
"What's wrong? Simple and crude, savage and ignorant, repeating, just like our history." Dr. Otter tried to draw a reversal spell with his small paws, and I wanted to laugh when I saw it.
"This sentence is half right." I set out to clean up the dazzling planes and transform them into existences more in line with my taste. "History is indeed full of barbarism, and humans are always repeating mistakes, but what is fascinating is that the process is not simple-justice is always ambiguous, and evil is always if there is nothing. I live more than you. In these centuries, empires have risen and fallen, civilizations have changed, and beliefs have changed. But before the end of the decline, humans will have a collective sober understanding? Which empire will not have the illusion of returning to light on the edge of dying? If every time In battles, even children can distinguish between good and evil, and even the uninformed can predict who will lose. So can you say that the true face of these battles is just a carefully packaged fairy tale? Do adults who talk about these battles have it? A comprehensive mind, qualified to judge the good and evil in history?"
"Please look carefully, look more carefully... Doctor, the plague is everywhere, we must be careful enough."
I flipped off the curtain in front of me. The sandbox disappeared, the plane was scattered, and the doctor's clone regained a human form. On the wall of the passage where we fell, the lowest level of the spell was exposed—a horizontal rune text. I took out a pair of exaggerated scissors and clamped the flashing and glowing words, they are like beating ghost fire in my eyes——
"Behind the curtain, who is there? Who is there!"
Click! With this crisp sound, the rune broke, and I was dragged down by the real gravity——
Boom! Have a meeting with the floor of the doctor's living room!
I got up quickly, pretending to yell in angrily, "I have been falling for thirty minutes!" Thor stood up from the sofa next to him, looked at me incredulously, put down the half-full beer glass in his hand, and hit it. A full hiccup.
The moment Doctor Legend sent us away, I took back my clone, and at the same time knew where the Eye of Agomoto was.
You know, there is always room for a qualified mage.
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