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“Look around you. You think this madness will end with your rule?”
The frustration, hurt and anger with which Thor asked me this, locked in each others grip atop Stark’s tower, checked me only for a brief second.
We had thrown punches, and more than once my brother had hit me square in the face, the hold of the enchantment from scepter only weakening for a short moment. At the time I hadn’t known what influence the scepter held over me.
That punch was enough.
It was enough to look around and actually see what was going on without a haze blurring my vision and mind all the time. In that moment I realized it was too late. Why? No matter what the outcome of this battle - this war - no matter how the dice got cast, in the end I would gain nothing.
Even though the scepter clouded my mind, influenced a lot of my feelings and thoughts, I had already done the math and ticked off every possible outcome. But nothing could stop me, I would be victorious.
In hindsight, in none of the possible scenarios I would come out on top but at the time I didn’t care, didn’t see it. And if I saw it, I denied it.
Now I see. Maybe I did so too in that short moment of clarity.
Would I win this war, would I be victorious and conquer earth, I was still no more than a slave to a madman. I already was a glorified pawn and would forever remain one. Thanos would keep me in his clutches, steering me like a puppet, and I would have no freedom whatsoever even if I won.
The scepter would cloud my mind and judgement forever even if I sat atop a throne to rule Midgard. And fighting myself free from a Titan was beyond my capabilities. He would always have a grip over my mind, and I would be nothing more than a slave. Every idea or plan I would have to defy him would get smothered painfully before they could even bloom.
There was no way out.
The other option was that I would lose, but at the time I didn’t deem it possible. I am a God and I would be triumphant. However, I had even calculated the consequences of losing. There would be different possibilities after the war was over.
The Humans of Earth would capture me, hand me over to their pathetic S.H.I.E.L.D. where they would, no doubt, lock me in a box and interrogate me. They would prod and pry at me like I was some test-animal. I would be an animal, locked away to never see daylight again.
At the time I scoffed at the notion. Those pathetic Humans couldn’t capture me, couldn’t contain me, and I would be free again only to run back to my cruel master, begging for forgiveness - begging for another change.
Then there was the possibility that these so-called superheroes would kill me, and frankly, it sounds like the best option thus far. It would have been merciful if my judgement wasn’t so clouded at the time.
The Mad Titan wouldn’t come for me, the Humans wouldn’t try to enslave me, and it took away the last option which I also dreaded.
Ironic how death sometimes can taste so sweet.
If the ‘heroes’ didn’t kill me, if the Humans didn’t lock me up, Thor would find a way to bring me back to Asgard and I had to face judgement at the hand of the All-father. Not an appealing prospect either. He wouldn’t want to hear my reasons, wouldn’t want to hear I was brainwashed, if he asked at all.
If anyone showed interest at all…
In their eyes I was already the malicious God.
There was, however, one more thing. Should I fail, should I not win this battle and live, Thanos would forever be on my heels; the threat The Other had spoken still burned in my mind. “If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you.”
I didn’t doubt those words.
So, there it was, laid out before me as I looked down upon the discord I had sowered. It didn’t matter. Not for me. It left me caught between two evils and at the time I was blinded.
Blinded by the influence of the scepter and only in that moment on that roof, after my brother had punched me several times, did my mind briefly cleared. In that moment I decided I’d rather take my changes losing the battle than winning it, and I had just motivation for that.
I’d rather take the odds with the Humans or the All-father, the Mad Titan on my heels for the rest of my life, than lose my mind further to said Titan’s reign.
My mind is my strongest asset, and it was already demurred which I only realized then and there. More than anything I feared the loss of control over my own thoughts and will. I didn’t want to live like a puppet on strings. The All-father had already orchestrated that for centuries for me, Thanos had simply followed. All I longed for was to be free even if that meant getting caught and locked up.
I couldn’t go back.
My decisions were made, the dice had been cast. It was all in the hands of the Norns now.
“It’s too late. It’s too late to stop it.”
Those words had nothing to do with the ongoing battle.
They were for me.