What Matters in the End

It had been centuries since Thor had last seen Loki. Six of them, he thought. For the first twenty years or so, he had assumed with utter certainty Loki had once more faked his own death and would show up again to drive him crazy soon enough. After thirty years with not only no contact but even no word, Thor began to doubt. After fifty years, he began to grieve. After a hundred years, he was done grieving. He had been living amongst humans for so long at that point, loss no longer felt unnatural. He treasured memories of the people he used to know; he was not worn down by them. There was too much else to keep him going. Now, New Asgard was thriving and growing. The Aesir accounted for 0.1% of Norway's population. Thor still regularly joined in adventures both on Midgard and off-world, although the Avengers was of course comprised of entirely new faces. Almost. The Hulk had proved to be immortal. They had also been joined by a handful of humans with bizarre genetic mutations that made them effectively immortal as well, so there was some constancy.Life was good.And then Loki showed up again. And there was something very wrong with him.