"Where is he?"
Fenrir blinked at the unexpected question, his brow furrowing from his elder sister's demanding tone. As much as he wanted to complain to her about her attitude, with how sharp her emerald eyes were, he doubted he'd be capable of getting a proper word in.
"Jörmungandr? Why're you asking me?"
She studied his expression a bit more, her elegant eyes narrowing in on his poker face before sneering; he had a good one, but he used it at all the wrong times—timing was as important for lying and deception as plausibility was.
"I see... so, he's there. He's there in your insipid little camp, after he went and pissed off all of the Gods in every mythology!" she hissed, the left side of her face momentarily fading into the look of a horrifying, dried out, almost mummified skeleton before she calmed herself, and the perfect face became smooth and lovely again.
"Before you complain about his temper, why don't you control your own?" he snapped, his eyes flashing a pale blue light. "You don't want your fanatics to realize what an ugly b!tch you really are, right?"
She snorted, her gaze derisive.
"Says the mutt who puts his tail in between his legs and sits when a mere child scolds you."
Fenrir clenched his jaw so hard that it sounded as if he cracked one of the canines that could cut a God down, his nails digging into the ground as he restrained himself.
He was a b!tch for that girl, it was true, but he disliked Hela of all people referring to that ball of sunshine as if she was insignificant.
He liked warm people; there was nothing wrong with that.
Besides, she made it sound as if he had some weird fetish for Aspen when she was simply a precious someone to him. A friend, even.
Truth be told it was bad enough that Hela of all people knew that he carried affection for someone so weak and frail. If she knew his brother, who was destined to overthrow Thor, was completely at the mercy of a specter, then...
'...As I expected, I shouldn't let them meet for what brother desires, even if it does hurt him. He'll probably lose more than he'd want in a bargain with her...'
There were layers within layers of machinations that were all beginning to slowly turn in this world ever since the Gods had arrived for this game, and his brother and him were naturally too disconnected from such subtly to even know what was happening, but that wasn't to say that they weren't smart.
Even a snake and wolf could tell that because of Jörmungandr's fury, the manipulations and schemes of the other Gods would come out, if not for conquest, then simply out of misinformation and fear.
He sighed, frost coating the air from his rage before relaxing a little. His expression became tired as he murmured in a soundless, helpless tone, "You're right, he's here. Why're you asking for him when you've been ignoring him for so long?"
It was there she hesitated, before quenching her own anger from the sibling quarrel.
"There's... going to be a meeting of sorts. A gathering of the Gods, on the Ninth and final server; they're going there to ascertain whether or not he's a danger to them, and though they've sent an invitation, the reality is simple—they'll probably attack him on the way there, as a "test" of sorts... and... well, you know how vulnerable he still is."
Fenrir fell into a quiet contemplation before muttering, "When is this meeting, and don't you think it's all rather... soon? A real war hasn't even begun yet."
"You can think of this as a formal prelude to war among the Gods, where alliances will before forged, and enemies will be identified. And, currently," she spat, looking furious again, "our dearest brother has made himself public enemy number one, by reminding them of the one thing all powerful beings fear—the end."
Silence hovered between Fenrir and the flat communication stone, the Ansuz rune projecting a floating, 3D rendering of his elder sister's face. He opened his mouth, and broke the silence, his gaze turning unusually young and almost desperate as he stared sadly at his sister.
"Elder sister... are you... also afraid of elder brother?"
"... Tell him about the situation."
Hela turned away in the image, her head upright as she stared away from her distraught younger sibling regally.
The image flickered as she walked away, before disappearing altogether, leaving behind an ancient yet youthful wolf who just wanted a family.
He plopped down on his side, shrinking himself to a 15 year old, before curling up into a ball. Initially, he hadn't liked this form much, but as he adapted to it with Aspen, he eventually began to feel as if this form actually suited his mental age more.
He certainly felt like a child right now—lost, and afraid about the future approaching the horizon.
"...Will we remain a family at the end of this sick game?"
The urgent wish of the lonely monster remained entirely unanswered and unaddressed; the System didn't care enough to address the false pretense she had used to persuade him to come here.