Selena had led Loki through the winding backstreets of Carcera to find the workshop. It wasn't as simple as walking to a building; the location itself seemed to shift, known only to those who had earned the trust of the enigmatic Alchemist's Network. The workshop wasn't one place but an arrangement of spaces hidden within the city's underbelly, shielded by wards and traps meant to deter the curious.
"The network uses these workshops to keep their activities secret," Selena explained as they passed through a narrow archway, its stone walls glistening with dampness. "It's neutral ground, but it's not free. I'm vouching for you."
"And I appreciate your charity," Loki said, the words as much jest as truth. "Though I have to ask—why help me at all? this goes way beyond our deal."
Selena stopped, fixing Loki with a hard stare. "Don't mistake my help for blind loyalty. I need you alive—for now. This is your path, not mine."
"Understood," Loki replied, his grin softening to something almost genuine.
The workshop door was concealed beneath a facade of crumbling brick. Selena whispered a word Loki couldn't catch, and the bricks shimmered before dissolving into a shimmering archway. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of ancient herbs, metal, and faint decay.
As Loki began the process, he couldn't help but feel the room itself was watching him. Every flicker of the dim alchemical lights seemed to highlight the weight of the ingredients before him.
The shard of the mirror sat on the table, its jagged edges catching shadows. Loki could see distorted reflections in its surface—glimpses of faces he didn't recognize and moments he'd never lived. He set it carefully beside the cauldron, wary of what might happen if it cracked.
Selena hovered near the doorway, her arms crossed. "Do you think the workshop itself will protect us if you mess this up?" she asked.
"Why? Are you expecting an explosion?" Loki replied, setting the shard in place on its stand. "Relax, Selena. I'm far more precise than I look."
"You've never brewed anything like this," she countered.
Loki didn't answer, focusing on the first step: the blood. As he uncorked the vial, a faint metallic scent filled the room. He tipped it into the cauldron, watching as the silvery liquid spread across the surface, forming intricate patterns that seemed to shift and pulse. A faint hum rose, vibrating the air.
The shard began to glow faintly, its fractured surface reflecting more than just the room. Loki ignored the fleeting images, his fingers tightening as he picked up the Ring of Vyriss. The moment he touched it, cold shot up his arm, and the distant whispers of betrayal filled his ears.
He steadied himself, placing the ring into the cauldron's mounting apparatus. It settled with a soft click, and the hum grew louder. The potion's mixture swirled violently, the colors shifting from silver to deep crimson, and then to pure black.
As Loki recited the incantation, the room began to change. The walls seemed to bend inward, the shadows stretching impossibly long. A cold wind rose from nowhere, carrying faint whispers—words in a language neither Loki nor Selena could understand.
"Loki," Selena said, her voice sharp. "What's happening?"
He didn't answer. The words of the incantation felt heavier, pulling something from deep within him. The vortex above the cauldron solidified, forming a sphere of swirling darkness. Loki reached out, his hand trembling as it approached the orb.
The moment his fingers brushed its surface, a shock ran through him, and the orb exploded into a burst of light and shadow. The cauldron rattled violently, nearly tipping over, and the liquid within surged upward, forming a serpentine shape that writhed and hissed.
"What did you do?" Selena shouted, drawing her dagger as the liquid construct lunged toward Loki.
"It's part of the process!" Loki yelled, ducking as the serpent lashed out. "I think."
"You think?" Selena snapped, slashing at the construct. Her blade passed through it, but the creature reformed instantly, turning its glowing eyes toward her.
Loki grabbed a flask of saltwater from the workbench, a hasty improvisation, and hurled it at the creature. The liquid struck its head, and the serpent writhed before collapsing back into the cauldron.
The room stilled, the oppressive energy dissipating as the potion settled. The liquid was now a rich, shimmering gold, its surface completely still. Loki stared at it, his chest heaving.
"Is it… done?" Selena asked, lowering her blade.
Loki nodded, his grin returning despite the sweat on his brow. "It's done."
Selena crossed the room, her gaze fixed on the potion. "You're going to drink that?"
"Why else would I go through all this trouble?" Loki replied, picking up a small cup. "Here's to the Trickster's path."
He dipped the cup into the potion and raised it to his lips, pausing briefly as if toasting to an unseen audience. Then, with a flourish, he drank.
The taste was unlike anything he'd experienced—bitter, sweet, metallic, and fiery all at once. The moment the potion touched his tongue, his vision blurred, and the room spun. A searing pain shot through his veins, and he fell to his knees, gasping.
"Loki!" Selena shouted, rushing to his side.
He couldn't respond. His body felt like it was being torn apart and stitched back together, the power of the potion reshaping him from the inside out. Images flooded his mind—visions of trickery, deception, and chaos. When the pain finally subsided, he collapsed, breathing heavily.
Selena knelt beside him. "Are you alive?"
Loki, eyes close took the time to enjoy the euphoric sensations he's feeling, body stronger than an average human, his mind sharper than ever, new ways to and an connection to a primal source he could no fathom yet.
New information pouring into his head: Sequence 9: Trickster
Characteristics: A cunning individual skilled at deceiving others and creating small chaos.
Abilities: Basic sleight of hand, minor illusions, quick thinking in dangerous situations.
Loki opened his eyes, a mischievous glint in their now-bright green depths. "Alive," he said, his voice stronger than before. "And ready for what's next."
For years the've called him trickster its time he finally lived up to the name.