Loki

, this old thing? Merely a token from a rogue Sakaaran who was foolish enough to test his strength against mine.

He would never be king. He’d never be his brother. He’d never be a hero. He would never be Theo, cast aside and still strong without being brittle. He’d never be Amora either. He had proved that when he’d tried to stop their army.
What else was left?
He could be the witch. He could be the villain. He could be the trickster, the schemer, the self-serving God of Chaos, prove the mythology books right. Prove them all right in what they had all thought, that he was rotten from the start. He would serve no man but himself, no heart but his own. That would be his choice.
He could be the witch.
Be the witch, and know everything.

“I am not weak,” Loki said. “I am not your villain, and I am not your fool. I am a protector of my homeland.” He thrust his hand in the air. “For Asgard!”