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❛ ᴇᴡᴛʀᴛᴡ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❜  ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ғᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄʜᴀᴏs & ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ
(ᴜɴ)ᴘʀᴇᴅɪᴄᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀᴄᴇs ꒱


❝ DO YOU BELIEVE IN FATE? ❞

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TIME.

IT WAS SUCH A PECULIAR CONCEPT IF YOU REALLY THOUGHT ABOUT IT. When you wanted it to go by faster, it seemed to slow down. When you wanted it to slow down, it sped up. And then, when you were with a certain person— everyone had one, after all— time seemed to stop all together. Yet, irrespective of how one might feel, time marches on, more dedicated than any soldier.

No one ever really has enough and everyone always thinks they have more than what has been allotted to them. Procrastination, delay and hesitation were human faults and all consequences of people believing that they had (as the saying goes) all the time in the world. Time is, perhaps, the one thing that can never be bought or sold for it is never in surplus.

The truth was everyone's time was limited. No amount of postponing could delay the inevitable conclusion: each life was summed up into a fixed amount of minutes. The number of hours in a day, days in a year, years in a lifetime all had a predetermined grouping that had been set since the very beginning.

Here's another unpleasant fact: everyone lives on borrowed time.

With death as the inescapable end, everyone lives knowing that they're about to die. Despite this, though, they strive to make even the smallest impact, all afraid that they will fade from memory in two or three generations. Another human trait is the desire to be remembered.

Even if this is not a conscious wish, no one wants to truly be forgotten. Even the most ordinary, plain and unremarkable being desires, in some way, to leave a mark in time. Humans fall into this category: with the arguably shortest lifespan, most creatures wonder why they even try at all. Yet, it has been proven time and time again that their pertinacity— no matter how else you classify them— helps them in their ceaseless struggle.

Time passes differently for everyone and for humans it goes by the fastest of all. It really is unfortunate that human memory is so fallible. Had they the ability to remember the golden years of their youth as they aged they might, perhaps, be more willing to admit their life was long-lived. As it is, most memories are formed around the age of reasoning— seven or eight human years— and the rest of their early life is easily forgotten. As they age, their recollections only become more faded with time until everything passes in a mostly pleasant blur.

This was why it seemed— at least to Hui Jimin— that she'd never had a childhood. If you asked her about her birth, she'd claim that she'd been borne from her mother's womb a fully-grown adult.

No, not an adult— a soldier.

✧ ✧ ✧ 

CLASSIFIED LOCATION, S.H.I.E.L.D

At precisely twenty minutes from when she'd been called to report to Maria Hill, Hui Jimin stood outside of the woman's office door. After a split second of hesitation, she knocked to announce her presence, entering once she'd been admitted.

The room was sparse with only the bare minimum, the Agent sitting at the center of her desk looking a little worse for wear while the Director was positioned immediately behind her. Jimin paused feet from the chairs on the opposite side, standing at attention, straight-faced as she waited for her superiors to speak.

"As usual, I appreciate your punctuality," Maria Hill started first, nodding to the Asian woman. "I'm sure you are aware of the events that have taken place hours ago involving the so-called God of Mischief, Loki of Asgard and his alien army. He will be returning to his home planet for proper retribution according to their customs but while he remains on Earth, he is a risk to humanity."

"It will be your responsibility to ensure he does not live up to his name during this time," Fury continued. "You are well known for your ability to see through lies and illusions and we expect you to make full use of your talents. Your orders are to keep this asshole in line during the next few hours. Is that understood?"

Jimin gave the one-eyed man a curt nod. "Yes sir."

✧ ✧ ✧ 

CHAOS.

The very word implies that the concept cannot be controlled.

It is in human nature to desire order and, therefore, they tend to dislike and even fear the unknown. They make it the natural villain of order and form, contrasting the two as easily as night and day. However, the world is not as nearly black-and-white as humans would like it to be.

Chaos is not inherently bad nor is order inherently good. They are not enemies of each other which is a classic mistake that can be made. They are merely two sides of the same coin, one to balance the other.

Disorder is necessary so structure can emerge.

While they might be at odds with each other at first, they can soon form a working partnership without overpowering the other. They are, after all, interconnected and dependent— there cannot be one without the other.

It was in this way that Loki— the God of mischief which brought chaos— met Hui Jimin— a woman of discipline and order.

✧ ✧ ✧ 

STARK TOWER, NEW YORK

The lobby of Stark Tower bustled with activity as S.H.E.I.L.D agents, Avengers and other personnel started cleanup efforts after the attack. Jimin stood in the middle of the movement outside the circle of soldiers that surrounded Loki, her gaze fixed on the dark-haired man unblinkingly. She paid little mind to the heroes of the day and government employees, her attention solely focused on her task.

That wasn't to say she was deaf to her surroundings, though. On the contrary, she listened to the noise around her, picking out conversations as she stored and discarded information as necessary.

"Hand over the case, Stark," an Agent demanded, reaching for the silver briefcase clutched in the man's hand.

Stark attempted to stutter an excuse— Jimin wouldn't have been surprised if he'd expected to keep the weapon (he certainly was that arrogant)— and the case dropped to the floor as he refused to hand it over.

"Stark?" Pierce questioned the man with apparent concern— she could tell it was not sincere, though.

"Stark?" Thor repeated, sounding far more genuine.

An unseen force shoved the case away from the increasingly more frantic group, sending the silver valise sliding across the floor. Loki turned sharply to watch its progress as it sped past the feet of armored men to stop in the middle of the floor. A soldier walked purposefully towards it and scooped it up without breaking his stride. The woman's eyes narrowed as she watched him tilt his head to speak into his earpiece.

As he reached towards the stairwell door, the Hulk burst out from the entrance, throwing the man several feet before he crashed to the ground. The case popped open due to the force of the drop and a glowing, blue cube— the Tesseract— jumped out, skidding across the shiny surface and— directly towards Loki.

It hit the god's foot and he looked down. Jimin could see the idea spark before he'd fully thought of it— she'd reached the same conclusion, after all— and they both wasted no time.

The Hulk, furious from the amount of stairs he'd had to descend, reacted violently and slammed his fist into the wall as he roared in frustration. Nearby employees screamed with panic as they scrambled to get away from him, not wanting to be caught in his wrath.

In the chaos, the soldiers had all but abandoned the god, allowing him to bend down to pick up the cube. Jimin wasn't so easily rattled.

Instead, she launched herself forward, her hands reaching out for the cube as Loki stood, the weapon clutched in his grasp. Her fingertips had just reached the glowing object when she felt a tug somewhere in her stomach and it somersaulted, the feeling sending her hairs standing on end.

And then— nothing.

✧ ✧ ✧ 

FATE.

Defined as a predetermined course of events, it implies that everything — from the beginning of time until the end— has already been planned. Falling into the subset of "form," it was logical that humans— who so craved structure and control— favored this term for the course of their lives.

There is a common mistake that is made: beings often confuse fate with destiny. They are not, in fact, the same. Destiny has a far more personal aspect where the choices one makes during their life determines the future whereas the cosmos are solely in charge of fate.

Not everyone believes that either exists, of course. Those that don't rage against the idea, demanding that they were in charge of their choices alone, that no predetermined course had been decided for them. They were beings of free will and refuse to accept that anyone weaker than themselves could control their path.

But, as creatures living on a floating rock in the void of space, it is understandable that humans would turn to a higher power to make them feel a little. . . less alone.

Now, though, only one question remains:

"운명을 믿으세요?"

unmyeong-eul mid-euseyo?

[Do you believe in fate?]

A/n: at long last, here is the first chapter! I wanted to finish watching the Loki series first before I started writing and now that I have, updates can finally happen! There's not much that I want to say but I DO want to warn you that this will be a SLOW BURN. Like, super slow. (As in, barely anything will happen during season one.) I promise it will be worth it, though! (I hope. . .) 

Note: the Korean used in this chapter was made by Google translate which, as everyone knows, isn't entirely accurate. I don't speak the language but did want to include more representation in my books so this is what I have to work with but I always strive for accuracy. If there is a better way to phrase the sentence or the grammar isn't one-hundred percent correct, I would appreciate constructive feedback from any native speakers.