"I once thought that you might not be faring too well, but now that I think about it… I was probably worrying for nothing."
Before a towering, vast undersea mountain range, gazing at the distant mountains before him, a figure shrouded in a cloak, his features indiscernible, spoke in a flat tone.
And in the distance, over a dozen kilometers away, the "mountain range" seemed to stir ever so slightly as if in response.
At the summit of this mountain range sat the serpent folk's sacred city of Nanor, a place that could accommodate millions of residents, veiled in an endless rain of blossoms. And beneath Nanor was an immense cavern, so astonishingly vast it was like a whole new realm, spacious enough to house dozens of mountain peaks within.
Inside this cavern, countless young serpent folk were striving with ropes and tools in hand, laboriously scaling the cavern's crimson stone walls like ants, struggling to clear away the deep-sea flora and various grime clinging to the cavern. The more skilled among them were tasked with cleansing the hundreds of towering alabaster iron peaks within the cavern.
These serpent folk, numbering in the tens of thousands, toiled tirelessly to ensure not a speck of filth remained in this colossal cavern. And only the figure shrouded in a cloak in the distance understood…
What they were cleansing was no mere cavern, but unmistakably a pair of enormous serpentine jaws. Those hundreds of incredibly hard and lofty alabaster iron peaks were indisputably the sharp fangs of the Great Serpent.
It was only with the aid of these serpent folk that the Great Serpent, who had been vexed by the long-term lack of cleansing of its abyssal maw, could ensure its fangs remained perpetually immaculate.
And there were many more situations like this. Over the past ten millennia, the accumulated oceanic races had built metropolis after metropolis upon the Great Serpent's body. As a result, these billions of oceanic denizens also shouldered the duty of scouring the Great Serpent's form.
After all, for this titanic serpent, who at present couldn't even turn over, having someone scour its body and rid it of parasites clinging to its scales and flesh, such as barnacles and thick layers of oceanic detritus, still left it feeling deeply gratified.
And under the cloaked figure's gaze, the gargantuan mountain range in the distance slowly opened its eyes. Tranquil yet gelid pupils stared at this uninvited guest. The Great Serpent did not speak, but its immense psychic might caused the very air to quaver, a deep, vast voice enveloping the cloaked figure.
"Ha ha… Loki, it seems you didn't fulfill your initial vow."
The voice was completely unlike a human's, more akin to a beast's roar. And hearing the words beside his ear, the cloaked figure, or rather Loki, silently raised his head, revealing a weary and haggard visage.
The former nonchalance and levity had completely vanished from this handsome countenance of the god of mischief, replaced by a profound sense of being overwhelmed, making his complexion appear careworn.
He knew what the Great Serpent was alluding to. He had once let Hel promise the Great Serpent on his behalf, saying he would do his utmost to try to liberate the Great Serpent. However…
He went back on his word.
Not only had he failed to rescue the Great Serpent, but he himself had also been exiled from Asgard.
In the distance, the terrifyingly frigid vertical serpentine pupils gazed at him. He could only smile wryly and say,
"I couldn't do what I said…"
"Then, what are you trying to achieve by coming here now? Don't tell me you want to dissuade me from destroying this universe?"
Towards the end, the Great Serpent's deep voice carried a tinge of derision.
It had absolutely no esteem for this father of its by blood. In fact, it didn't have any conventional sense of morality at all. To it, the rules and order established by a bunch of insects couldn't shackle it, although it didn't deny that it was once an insect too.
"What am I here to do…"
Loki muttered in a daze, then subconsciously glanced upwards. Above was a deep azure oceanic world… azure to the point of near-deathly stillness.
From here, he couldn't behold the vast firmament he once gazed upon in Asgard.
Every time he raised his head, he became acutely aware once more:
"He had been exiled from Asgard."
He was once a Frost Giant, but together with his sworn brother, he had slain his own father - Ymir, the progenitor of the Frost Giants.
He was once a god, but out of his own resentment, he had goaded the god of darkness Hodr to slay his own brother.
In this vast world, there seemed to be no place left for him to dwell. He didn't know what he should do now. For tens of thousands of years, he had grown accustomed to life in Asgard. At the very least, he had once strived for the sake of this universe.
He and Odin had molded the first humans together. Odin endowed humans with abstract souls, while he bestowed upon them corporeal bodies. He and Thor had adventures together, then he would dupe Thor into brawling with those dull-witted giants while he hid aside and watched the spectacle.
He relished playing pranks, often vexing many gods, but he would always make amends for his misdeeds afterwards. When ennui struck, he would venture to Jotunheim to dally with giantesses, then absent-mindedly end up with a few offspring, just like these three siblings. When they were born, Loki was still in a drunken stupor, oblivious to suddenly having three more progeny.
Some gods felt he lacked the gravity and majesty a god should possess, but he didn't give a whit about that. That was simply his nature, and he had long grown inured to it, with no intention of altering himself.
"Just like this, it's pretty good."
He had once mused that perhaps such a life could persist until the very end. Although Heimdall, the sentinel of the gods who stood vigil over the rainbow bridge, had always been inimical to him due to his Frost Giant lineage, although not many gods in Asgard truly esteemed him, he always felt that it was actually quite alright this way.
At least he had a god-king who regarded him as a brother to be his sworn brother, had a thunder god who never minded his identity to be his comrade, and had a palace of his own. Although he seldom stayed there, at least… it was still a home for him, right?
However…
After being expelled, he lost his sense of direction.
Where was his home now?
He didn't know.
Jotunheim? Helheim? Or the mortal world? Or somewhere else entirely?
He didn't know…
Gazing vacantly at the azure ocean above, Loki's visage no longer showed the erstwhile levity and mirth, but instead had a few traces of desolation, not at all resembling the once unrestrained and free-spirited god of mischief.
"Why exactly did I come here… I don't know either."
"Or perhaps… I've always known."
He first muttered to himself, then suddenly sighed, these brief utterances filled with contradictions.
Although Loki spoke very softly, in the distance, the Great Serpent still clearly heard his mutterings.
The frigid serpentine eyes grew even more glacial.
"Pointless lamentations."
Beside Loki's ears, the Great Serpent's deep, scoffing laughter rang out.
"I thought you might be worthy of me taking a proper look at you, but unexpectedly, you're nothing more than a crawling reptile reeking of an insect's stench, merely resignedly bewailing your fate here."
"A feeble reptile, not worth conversing with me."
In the Great Serpent's eyes, Loki at this moment was like a maudlin, bitter hag, lacking empathy, making it find this very tedious.
After speaking, the Great Serpent couldn't be bothered to spare Loki another glance, preparing to sink into slumber.
And hearing the Great Serpent's words, Loki didn't show much of a reaction, only sighing as if sensing something.
"Fate, huh…"
"Jormungandr, or should I say… Meng, in your eyes, what exactly is fate?"