Shock tears through my body as I try to jerk away from Laufey. But the frost giant does not release his grip on me, and I feel a shift in my skin, my flesh, as it remains greyish blue.

You are no Odinson.

"So it is true," Laufey says quietly, his red eyes gleaming. "The youngest son of Odin isn't Asgardian."

"What are you doing to me?" I demand, staring in horror at the dull blue shade of my skin.

"I do nothing," Laufey insists, pinning me with his gaze as I lift my eyes. "I am only revealing your true colors."

"Release me," I order in a low voice which trembles slightly.

"I watched you fight Raze," Laufey says, ignoring me. "I saw him grab you. I watched your skin change. You are no Asgardian, you are not an Odinson. But I needed to see it for myself."

Silence falls between us as Laufey stares at me intently. I scowl, drawing myself up to my full height – which admittedly is much shorter than his – and hold his gaze challengingly. "Then who am I?"

"You are frost giant," Laufey states. "You are my son."

"No," I say quietly, swallowing against the panic. "I am the son of Odin. I am Asgardian."

"The son of Odin would not shed his illusion at a frost giant's touch," Laufey points out. "He would only burn. But you don't burn, do you, Loki?"

I wish I did burn.

"If you could see yourself, you would see the truth," Laufey adds. "You are of Jotunheim. It is written in your face. You are my son."

I may not be able to see my face, but I can feel the change. I know something has happened to me, and as I look at Laufey's hand, still gripping my wrist, I see the hue of his skin matches mine completely.

What am I? What is wrong with me? What sort of beast am I?

I yank away from the king again and this time he releases me. "What do you want from me?" I ask harshly, rubbing my wrist.

Laufey just looks at me. "You were supposed to be dead. But you aren't."

"Disappointed?" I snap, stepping back from the frost giant.

"Curious," is all Laufey replies.

"Loki!" I hear Hela calling, somehow managing to sound casually worried. Hela does most things casually, I've learned. "Where'd you go off to?"

Grateful for an opportunity to escape, I pivot toward her voice, my heart beating so quickly I can feel it in my ears, a dull thud, thud. A glance down at my wrist shows the skin has once again assumed its pale hue, just like after Raze released my wrist back in the arena. I must look Asgardian again.

But I don't feel Asgardian. I feel like a stranger in my own skin, uncomfortable, like there's a slight itch that I can't reach or appease. I glance over my shoulder at Laufey, seeing the red eyes, the raised cranial ridge, the circles etched into the skin, and shudder to think that I looked like that, too, even if only for a minute.

What am I?

Hela is waiting, looking like she's a moment away from tapping her foot in prim annoyance. But as soon as I get close enough to her, she grabs my arm and forces me to walk with her, away from Laufey and away from the crowd. "Be calm," she murmurs. "Look aloof."

I keep my expression as impassive as I can as Hela steers me down a short corridor and into an empty room. There's a thick window, probably made of ice, to my left, displaying a view of Jotunheim. All I see is desolation, a desolation I despise with my very being.

"So Laufey spoke to you," she states, leaning against the wall and folding her arms across her chest. "What did he tell you?"

"When do we leave?" I ask, avoiding her gaze.

"Tomorrow," Hela says, surprising me enough for me to meet her eyes. "Jotunheim's temperatures drop wickedly below zero at night. The Statesman won't be able to take off tonight, due to the extreme cold, so we will leave in the morning. Now, what did Laufey tell you?"

I don't answer.

"Loki, I don't have the patience to guess. So don't test me." Hela lifts an eyebrow at me. "What did Laufey say to you?"

"He told me I was his son," I say reluctantly, lifting my eyes to meet hers. "Laufey grabbed my wrist and it...it turned...."

"Dull blue," Hela finishes, her expression deadly serious. "The same color as his own skin, I suppose?"

Wordlessly, I nod.

"Ah," is all my sister says, holding my gaze.

"You don't seem surprised," I comment quietly.

"Well, I'm not," Hela tells me. "As you see, you are, in fact, Laufey's son."

My face drains of blood. "Laufey's son?"

Hela nods. "I told you Father didn't keep all his trophies in the weapons vault."

I fall back at that, remembering when Hela had mentioned that to me, right before the Reaping which had sent me into the arena. It had been right after Odin had lectured me in the weapons vault itself.

"You know, Father doesn't keep all his relics and weapons down there."

"He doesn't?"

"No. One is hanging around the palace somewhere."

"Where?"

"That's for you to discover."

"Why?" I ask hoarsely.

Hela tilts her head. "Brother, I told you about lying. I told you it would be important to you."

"But why would...why would Odin take me from Jotunheim?" I demand.

"Ask him," Hela says flatly. "Loki, your blood may belong to Jotunheim, but you are of Asgard. Remember that. Always remember who you are." Her eyes burn intensely. "What are you the god of, again?"

But I barely hear her. "Why wouldn't he tell me?" I wonder, half to myself. I feel so lost, so confused. What...why....?

Hela pushes away from the wall. "Get some sleep. This is probably the only place you'll get it."

She leaves, and I dazedly follow her. Valkyrie is standing there, and she takes my arm and escorts me away. The room where the event is has emptied and our group is taken to some quarters for the night.

I'm exhausted when I crash onto the bed. The room is cool and it's the first time in a long time where I find myself not sweating and overheated. For once, I'm – comfortable. But my head is full of thoughts and it takes me a while before I fall asleep.

And when I do sleep, I dream.

Peter Parker, of all people, is the first one I see. His face is bloody, his eye bruised – like right after Killmonger stabbed him. "Monster," he whispers, right before half his face fades into ash, the other half staring at me reproachfully as the edges crumble away.

Before I can react, something jabs into me and my skin burns. Cassie Lang is striking me with a burning torch, Pietro Maximoff hurling fire bombs at me. "Die!" they both scream in unison, the flames building up around them and closing in on me. "You said you wanted to burn. Then burn, like all the monsters do! Die!"

I flail around in the flames, trying to escape, but I only end up coughing and staggering around aimlessly, the flames presenting no exit point.

Then I'm with Gamora, and she's holding my face in her hands, staring into my eyes sorrowfully as we stand in the flames. Her thumb traces the skin under my eye, a spot of coolness within the heat of the fire. "If only you had had the strength, to do whatever it takes."

"But I did," I whisper hoarsely, my throat parched from the smoke.

Gamora shakes her head slowly. "What did it cost you?"

Then Gamora turns into Veers, who suddenly transforms into a vicious red symbiote that I can still see Veers in despite the rubbery crimson flesh concealing her from me. I attempt to fight the creature but it tears me apart, slowly and painfully. The last thing I see, as I die in the dream, is Laufey's dull red eyes, gleaming out of the darkness like a lurking monster.

I wake up breathless, jolting into an upright position as I gasp for air. Rubbing at my eye, I find traces of tears below the lid, the very same one Gamora had touched. Slowly, I then lay back down, staring at the ceiling and swearing off sleep for the rest of the night. I don't want to sleep if I'm going to dream.

Dread fills me as I realize that I am not sweating. I feel restless, yes, but that is due to the nightmare, not my body temperature.

I am frost giant.

I am a monster.