It was a charming, albeit simple story that the humans fabricated to explain the mechanics and uncertainties of the world that they lived in. That before the formation of everything there was nothing. Only a void of darkness, stagnant and cold, until the fateful moment where a deity intervened to bring forth light.
The idea was so absurd that it filled Loki’s hollow chest with a bubbly warmth. It rose up and tickled his throat. The corners of his mouth twitched, hoping to send the laugh up and along and hit the air with a defiant glee. Instead his throat tightened. His body seized. Back slammed against the stone altar, eyes almost bulging out of his sockets with each rattling choke.
Fate wouldn’t even grant him one last laugh.
A numbness prickled on the soles of his feet. It shot up his legs to the rest of his body, paralyzing him in the process. His arms, loose, almost appearing to be deflated, let go of the crown he had been clutching to lay flat by his sides. The support of his torso crumbled, forcing his body forward.
What a foolish premise. No good could ever come from nothing.
His head tilted down. Streaks of residue blood, saliva and vomit trickled down his cheeks and onto the ground. His lips trembled before locking into place. One last tear fell as his eyelids began to droop.
And I’m going to become nothing
His vision flickered with black and white dots as everything went out of focus.
And in those seconds thoughts, memories, sensations chaotically jumbled about in his mind.
One thought stood out from the others. It moved forefront, faintly glowing against the darkness.
In the beginning there was nothing and from nothing came something right?
In the millisecond Loki took to ponder over the idea, new streams of thought emerged.
And if we take this idea that from the abyss of nothingness that something had to arise, that would mean that nothingness could not exist without somethingness.There has to be a strict balance between the two. For every dark cavern of uncertainty there has to be an exit, an outpouring of light, a fresh idea just waiting to slip into the hand, the pen, the keys that clack with each word transcribed.
Though his body was on the verge of death’s door, a burst of strength surged through him. His body broke through the paralysis with a sharp gasp for air. His limbs tensed up. Eyes fluttered open.
And if I can manipulate this nothingness, and use it to get it back to somethingness, I still have a chance.
Loki grinned with a shaky wheeze. His eyes shut tight. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
I don’t have to die.
Death regained its hold over the boy. Loki weakened just as quickly as he bounced back. But he no longer frightened. He defiantly gazed up at the sky above as his essence faded within.
I won’t die
His empty body collapsed to the ground.
There was nothing. There was no presence of life. No light, space, or surface. No concept of time. And it remained so until a flicker of green pierced through the stillness.
Its glow intensified. Darted about in a zig-zag until it began to coil around itself, growing larger and larger until it exploded with a boom.
The black of the nothingness dissolved to white. The green light gave way to expose the outline of a humanoid figure. It gained mass, shape, and form. The green light warped around the body once more to add the final touches: color, features, and life.
Loki opened his eyes and took his first breath. With it, his body floated down to a surface that he had conjured for himself. He landed and rose to his feet. He looked down at one of his hands. He marveled at how his hand cupped, the lines on his palms, how his fingers wiggled at his command. He stretched out his arm, flexed it, rolled his shoulder back. With an excited sound he reached over to touch his other arm. It felt the same as it did in his previous life. He gazed down at his torso, at how his legs sprung up into a jump, feelings his arms wrap around his chest as he sunk back down then to extend to the air as he yelled:
Loki laughed. His hands shot up to his face, feeling the softness of skin, the outline of his nose, mouth, cheeks, and jaw before becoming still again. He raised his head towards the space above, now a brilliantly lit sky and beamed up at it:
“I am something.”