...24 hours later...

I strangely felt a need to go out and do something 'helpful'. I went out of my profile house trying to forget about the traumatizing ticking that occupied me for most of yesterday. Eventually I found myself in the cafe leaning against a fire hydrant thinking about how long I have been in this realm. Also how Thor has yet to call me in the time I have not been on Midgard.

"Yo' King Loki!" IlikeLoki calls out.

I turn my head towards the right to see IlikeLoki holding a grocery bag.

"You want to go with me to the Multimedia designs and get you a bookcover?" IlikeLoki said. "It's practically busy but the artists get the job done...with credit and payments."

I raise a brow.

"Multimedia designs?" I ask.

"Anything not relating to reading and writing," IlikeLoki said. "Seriously, do you want to come instead of standing around all day in the cafe?"

"Sure," I said. "Just do not expect me to advertise there after what I just went through yesterday."

"What did you go through?" IlikeLoki asks.

"Stamped on the forehead with a temporary suspension and no one could see me until 24 hours were up," I said. "I learned my lesson."

IlikeLoki smiles.

"Let's go," IlikeLoki said, taking me by the hand.

IlikeLoki takes me to a State where people are designing artwork. Some of these Wattpadians are freelancing outside thread houses listening to the strange wattpadians giving them an idea what they want. I see a few run after getting their media related item but apparently they did not fill out the artists bargain as the artist grew furious. The State is active as The Café State but the thread houses move every two minutes.

"I am not sure I want to carry it out," I said, uncertain.

"Too bad," IlikeLoki said. "You gotta get this done!"

IlikeLoki takes me into a thread house before it moved.

I only knew the thread house moved because of the sudden strong wind coming through the open doorway.

"The cover artist is upstairs," IlikeLoki said, letting go of my hand. "Downstairs is the old requests."

"Why do I go upstairs?" I ask.

"After 20 thread pages the thread house goes up and so does the cover artist," IlikeLoki said. "Now you go and make that request."

"How do I know I am talking to the artist of the thread house?"

"You'll know," IlikeLoki said. "Now go before you lose the chance! I'll be down here waiting."

I get on the first step to the staircase.

Surprisingly the staircase's step is going up.

It reminded me of Wall Mart's recently added escalator back in New York. The stairs quickly go up landing me on the floor. I did not expect this different escalator to go that first at all. Most escalators go slow enough a mortal can expect to step off after standing only five minutes on the escalator.

I get up on my two feet.

I see a long line of people waiting at a brown door curling around corner to a hallway. I feel horrified at the long line. I have to wait that long just for a conversation with the cover artist? I think not! I make my way through the line then get to the side other side of the hall. Now if I were an artist getting many requests for a bookcover, where would I hide to speak with one requestee? Do not ask how the word 'requestee' came up. This is an insane realm where made up words become common to refer others as. I walk until I stop at a blue door left ajar. I put my right hand on the door beginning to knock but when I put my hand on the door it slid to the side opening completely. A unique dark woman sat on a chair with long black hair curling over her shoulders, a white shirt, white pants, and bright white jacket that has a hood at the back. The jacket's long sleeves end at the wrist. No one sat in the chair across from this woman.

In blue letters a username appears above her head: RoothFana.

"Hello," I said.

RoothFana looks up from the drawing pad towards me acting puzzled.

"Hello," RoothFana said. "How did you get into my private room?"

RoothFana reminds me of an angel except more modern and up to date. I figure if she were in a movie then many mortals would be awed by fluffy she looks and say how her appearance seems so 'interesting' for the least. I am not saying she looks fluffy but RoothFana has a certain angel appearance about her.

"I walked," I said. "And found my way."

RoothFana narrows her eyes and hunches her brows.

"This is very private," RoothFana said. "This side has been sinked."

"Sinked?" I ask.

"It does not appear in the first page of the forums," RoothFana said. "I have it subscribed to my subscriptions." She pauses. "Correction: it does not appear at all in the forums."

"But this part is connected to your book cover thread," I said. "And I don't see any pages. I only see miles."

"How interesting," RoothFana said. "You count pages as miles."

"To you; it is website," I said. "But to me; it is a realm."

RoothFana smiles.

"Come here," RoothFana said. "And sit down on this chair."

"I am not sitting down because you said so," I said, finding RoothFana an odd mortal. I sat down on the chair across from RoothFana. "So, I have heard you need 'credit' and 'payments' for bookcovers. Do you really need a credit card?"

RoothFana laughs.

"We're not taking credit cards," RoothFana said. "We get back credit for making the book cover." She puts her hands together. "You are new to Wattpad."

"Why yes," I said. "I am."

"In exchange for making a bookcover I require a comment on three of my stories, the first chapter, no biggy." RoothFana said. "And following is optional. But giving me credit is the most important part of my services. But first, you have to comment."

I raise a brow as she hands me a book.

"First?" I said. "Before I get the cover?"

"To see if you're willing to get a bookcover from me," RoothFana said. "I do not spend all my time on Wattpad. I have a life of my own."

RoothFana gets up from the chair and leaves me with three books. She exited the room into the book cover thread half of the private building. I take my time to read the three books but only ended up not stopping on chapter 1. I read through ten chapters and left comments about the story itself. Truth to be told there is some hope in Midgardian writing improving and staying true to grammar. I press the star button thirty times for each book. RoothFana came back in wearing a rounded blue-green hat.

RoothFana's expression is a surprising one.

"You went through ten chapters?" RoothFana asks.

"Yes," I said, nodding. "I did."

"I said ONE chapter!" Roothfana said

"Well, you had a short beginning so I had to read ten just get familiar to the story's format and structure so I could leave a comment."

"...Uh," RoothFana said. "You left reviews, not comments."

"No I didn't," I said. "When I review a book; I leave more than 1,999 words."

RoothFana stares at me for a while.

"You took the time to read my books," RoothFana said. "Without asking me to read your story or any update demands." She sat down on the chair across looking at me wide eyed. "You must be from Britain or something!"

"I am from Asgard," I said. "Though there are not many Asgardians who take the time I do."

RoothFana smiles.

"Tell me about the story and what you want for the cover," RoothFana said.

"The Royal story." I said.

"The Royal story?" RoothFana repeats.

"That is what I named it," I said. "It is very Royal."

"What's it about?" RoothFana asks.

"A Royal story," I said.

"...No really, what's it about?" RoothFana asks.

"It is about a boring girl named Joline from the realm Svartalfheim," I explain. "Joline had been sneaking around, unlike what her mother had taught her, at night. During that venture into the night she comes across Thor and I-"

"You are in the story?" RoothFana interrupts.

"Yes," I said. "I am."

"Continue." RoothFana said.

"She comes across Thor and me during a heated debate about retrieving a locket that was stolen by the Dark Elves from Asgard a couple nights ago. Joline happens to be the daughter of Malekith and overhears this argument. She comes in, Thor over reacts believing she's a assigned night-thief coming their way to Asgard using us two as a shortcut by befriending us."

"So this is about a fictional princess elf mistaken for a thief by Thor and a huge conflict arises because of that?" RoothFana asks.

"Yes," I said, with a nod. "It is."

"How old is she?" RoothFana asks.

"409," I said.

"What does Joline look like?" RoothFana asks.

"She's a woman with long dark hair and pointy ears," I said. "She is unfamiliar to Asgardian customs so she prefers wearing Dark Elf attire."

"Oh, she doesn't wear a dress." RoothFana said.

"Exactly." I said.

"So a woman in her twenties with long dark hair and pointy ears, a strange landscape in the background, something royal, and a streak of thunder in a different atmosphere background?" RoothFana asks.

I nod.

"Your bookcover will be done in two hour," RoothFana said, messing with a watch on her wrist. "I am timing myself. You can expect the cover in your private message."

How does the private message function work exactly?

I pretended to understand the private message part leaving the room. Going down the escalator I thought of all the various definitions for private message relating to the website version of Wattpad. Can people see other private conversations going on wherever they go in this realm? Perhaps the strange member of the greeters is part of Wattpadheims rulers acting as spys on every mortal. It reminds me of the NSA leak out break where even Steve Rogers didn't have anything to say for his realm's defense.

I take a step down on the flat not-moving floor.

"So," IlikeLoki said. "How did it go?"

"I have no idea what a private message is."

IlikeLoki claps.

"Yay!" IlikeLoki cheers. "You got it in fifteen Wattpadian minutes."

"I do not have my bookcover," I said. "It will be done in two hours."

"Ohh," IlikeLoki said. "So you got the payment done!"

"Obviously," I said, walking right past IlikeLoki towards the door. "Now if you excuse me I have some time to waste."

____ ______

...43 minutes later...

...The Fan Fiction State...

Somehow in ways I cannot explain I find myself in the Fan Fiction State. It feels like I have not been here in centuries. It is strange returning to The Fan Fiction State. It is as though a scar has sealed itself in my memories about the state. A scar being a very uncomfortable memory I do not want to relive.

One of the thread houses catches my attention.

The title of the thread house stood out to me.

I walk over towards the thread house. The thread house reminds of the modern day house on Midgardian streets decorated in ugly paint all around it minus the front lawn. Not any of the thread houses have a garage beside them because not a Wattpadian drives. The front door is left open carelessly. The original poster had probably decided to make it a public building. But what could it be?

I walk into the thread house.

Remarkably the inside is clean. I walk down the hall past the blue painted walls with tilted over pictures. Voices echo back out of the latest room four doorways away. I quicken my pace striding past a closet door. I walk into a room similar to a living room where Wattpadians varying in Avatars are chatting. Quite a few are handing books to each and tapping on the stars to the side. Isn't star for star considered unfair?, I thought gawking at the Wattpadians casually breaking the rules.

I step forwards.

"Are you aware stars for stars is against the rules?" I ask.

Everyone in the room is staring at me, including a man without a shirt.

"Hey," I saw a username above the man's head. It read 'Hotguy28'. "It is cool for me and my good pals."

"Good pals?" I ask. "How good are they when they don't read the guidelines?"

"Very good." Hotguy28 said.

"That is not right," I said. "You are wrong about referring to your friends as good."

"We're good." ABCHecky said, raising a bottle with a hiccup.

"No, you're not." I said. "One of the definitions of 'good' is: to be desired or be approved of." I wave my index finger up and down. "Unfortunately for you not many people approve of rigged voting."

"Hey, we're the hot and hip ones here!" Hotguy28 said. "We have fangirls making our work so popular, read, and most voted on we can do anything!" He held his hands out in a way like he is holding something big. "We're invisible in fact. Saying we can't promote ourselves says you're a big headed robot under the influence of hillbillyness!"

"Shortening a phrase and butchering it is very unprofessional," I said. "Now, do me a favor and please tell me this is not against the guidelines."

"It is not against the guidelines." Hotguy28 said.

I narrow my eyes towards Hotguy28.

"You have not read the guidelines," I said. "You must want to be taken ill by being temporary suspended."

"Watch it." ABCHecky growls

"I am watching your eyes become watery," I said. "Why do I need to watch that?"

"Let's downvote him!" Another user cries.

"You know, I have yet to come across a negative star," I said. "So what you want to do is impossible."

"You on goodreads?" Hotguy 28 asks.

"No," I said. "I can't be walking on good reading books: that would be destroying works of literature."

"Copy paste his work on there and lets downvote it!" ABCHecky declares.

"..Technically that means you're downvoting your own work," I said. "And my copyright prevents anyone from copying my own work. If that were easy I would have been getting Wattpadheim fame quickly."

"I can't believe a girl is chiding me!" Hotguy28 said.

"I am not SpikyKnight," I said. "I am Loki and I am a man."

"Wait," Hotguy28 said,shocked. "SpikyKnight is a gal? I thought she was a dude!"

"Hey, anyone wanna vote on my works?" GetStarted300 said, in the corner of the room.

"LETS DO IT, men!" Hotguy28 declares. "And get that damn downvoting started!"

They turn around towards GetStared300 grabbing all the copies of the books and vote.

"I am not sorry," I said. "But you might want to take this at SpikyKnight."

I walk out of the thread house.

When completely out of the Thread House I saw SpikyKnight heading my way. So all I have to say, in order to get SpikyKnight's attention on a much needed thread, is 'at SpikyKnight'? I take a step to the side watching the determined Wattpadian State Moderator charge through the doorway holding a clipboard. I turn away then walk off the porch. I do not know what Good Reads is and do not intend to find out.

When off the walkway to the thread house I look over seeing the very building becoming transparent. I feel better about myself. I take my magnifying glass out curious to hear what progress my story's had made.

"How my reads does The Loki project have?" I ask.

"2,000 reads and 250 votes," The female voice said. "The royal story has 4,550 votes and 10,000 reads. Midgard and Asgard's predictament has 12,000 reads and 3,000 votes." I raise a brow up at the large numbers. "You have 1,307 followers."

I feel shocked, to say for the least, about hitting so many big numbers.

I find it stunning that each of my stories has different reads being less or more than their vote count. Everything I had done leading up to two days ago have been rather 'not right' in the world of Wattpadheim. Either way I got what I wanted in the end just the consequence of it is not admirable. What did I want? To hit fame in Wattpadheim and to become well known for my efforts on writing a story tied up neatly.

"All I needed to hear," I said, putting the magnifying glass back into my coat pocket.

I walk past the other thread houses seeing them move to different spots. Wattpadians walk into the thread houses that had since parked at the time. Every dialogue spoken inside the house made the thread house move.

It made sense to me, now, how the system for thread houses works in general.

But in short The Loki Project was made by my fangirls to help me hit fame. I did not write the project but what I did write is 'The Royal story' and 'Asgard and Midgard's predicament'. The word placement of the realms does not matter in how I tell the title of it to others; the name goes both ways. Most people in Wattpadheim may find it unrealistic I hit large reads and votes only on my first week.

My phone rings in my pocket.

I made a note to myself to use my 'helpful' feeling after the call.

I take the phone out from my coat pocket. I see four letters highlighted in white above a phone number. I slide my finger on the green button hovering within the screen. I put the phone on to my right area turning away from the thread houses.

"About time,Brother." I said. "You finally noticed I am gone."

I heard snickering.

"Aw," Thor said. "So you're not in Hawaii?"

"I am not in Hawaii," I said. "I am in Wattpadheim."

"Where exactly are you on Wattpadheim?"

"I am in it." I said.

"What?" Thor said, and then I hear him lower the phone. "Bruce,what do you mean that Wattpadheim does not exist? You are the one who showed me the realm on the screen of life."

I did not picture Bruce to be the one who introduced Thor to Wattpadheim.

I thought it had been Tony.

"Um," Thor said. "Brother, what is the realm called again?"

"Wattpadheim," I said. "I still cannot believe you thought I was in Hawaii!"

"What is your account name?" Thor asks.

"My name." I said.

I overheard from the phone a comment by Bruce, "He probably told whatever was around at the time 'I am Loki'."

"Why yes," I said. "That's what I told them. And no one believes me; except for my fangirls."

"I do not see your account name." Thor said.

"Search the Royal story," I said.

"Not there." Thor said.

"What do you mean it is not there?" I ask. "I have thousands of stars and reads on my stories. How can you miss that?"

I heard the phone given to Bruce.

"You are in actual realm," Bruce said. "But...it seems the version of Wattpad you are in is different from ours."

"SpikyKnight." I said.

There is a pause.

"Nothing." Bruce said.

"Search for the phrase 'help','Grandma', 'we,' and my name." I said.

"Oooh," Bruce said. "It doesn't exist. But there is a fanfiction about you crashing landing in a garden and found by a grandparent who's over worried for her granddaughter."

I sigh.

"It is different," I said. "Very different. Does it have 18 chapters?"

"Yes," Bruce said.

"At least it is not that different." I said, relieved.

"Excuse me," Bruce said. "But you've been in a different world and you haven't bothered to call?"

"I was busy," I said. "Busy getting myself fame and gathering my army."

"Uh huh," Bruce said. "Let me guess; you lost your exit." I heard the phone lowered. "Thor, what do you mean by a wormhole?" There is a pause. "You...did what? You know bringing a black hole to Earth is dangerous enough but how can you do that? It is scientifically impossible."

"Well, Stark went through a wormhole and tossed a missile in," I said. "Not impossible."

"But your wormhole was different," Bruce said. "You did not take a ride." It made sense since I walked into the portal. The portal I entered was a bright blue wall. "Thor, I am going to make a guide for inter-space travel through anything related to wormholes and what not. I expect you take a read out of it."

"You know Thor is not going to remember all the technical aspects," I said.

"I know," Bruce said, with a sigh. "Not right now Thor, I have not made it! Here, you take the phone; you have the world emergency going on."

"World emergency?" I said.

The phone is switched to Thor.

"I flipped the switch," Thor said.

"Unflip it," I said.

"It has been eight hours." Thor said.

"..Brother, I made a stoptimer for a reason." I said. "Remember? I showed it to you."

"I do," Thor said. "Where did you put it?"

"Under your bed," I said. "And just put the stoptimer into the square hole. When I get back I will thoroughly dispose of that back up 'realm restart' device. I have forgotten about it for too long."

"...Um, how do you plan that?" Thor asks.

I laugh.

"I am not the one out of this realm," I said. "I suppose you two can work on that!"