New York

Wind rushed past Sylvie's face; she brushed her hair out of her eyes, before quickly returning her arm to its spot across her chest, quickly looking around, taking in the scene. It was a city, with buildings that went high off the ground; it wasn't nearly as impressive as Asgard, but it was a halfway decent first attempt. They were somewhere near the top of one of the taller buildings, a stone pathway that arced out like an over-elaborate balcony.

Her recollection of Natasha's memory wasn't the clearest. This place was called New York, she was pretty sure, but she didn't recall much beyond the general sense of destruction.

And sure enough, there was that; there was a portal in the sky, and creatures descending from it. Some were on flying machines, whizzing between buildings below; others were fighting them, in between posing dramatically.

It was chaotic enough to hopefully obscure any footprints they left.

Sylvie shivered a little; she was hardy enough that she barely felt the chill of being this high up, but she did feel the wind rushing past. She took a couple of steps back; the stone arc they were on, like a balcony, stuck out from the upper levels of the skyscraper they were on. She tried to stay close to the one wall, so as to not feel quite so exposed.

There was someone else on the balcony. Thankfully he was too busy looking out over the city to have seen their arrival; a green cape, and gaudy gold horns, standing out and looking down.

Chitauri! That was the word, Sylvie suddenly remembered. She'd vaguely heard of them, disposable alien armies mostly pointed at lesser-developed worlds to help conquer. They were the invaders: one flew up higher, exchanging an incoherent screech with the green figure.

"I understand," said the man, much more clearly. "You can be assured that I will do my part in fulfilling my glorious purpose."

Ugh. Pretentious. And using the Chitauri as a rent-out army? Sylvie couldn't say she cared all that much for whoever this guy was. At least the chaos he sowed was useful.

Hela, meanwhile, was frowning. Sylvie did her best to keep behind her significantly more-dressed sister.

The Chitauri screeched again. The man stiffened.

"Prince Loki, to you," he said.

Sylvie stiffened. Nervously, she took a step to the side. She'd have lifted a hand to cover her face if that didn't mean flashing something. He was her? That was... honestly about as embarrassing as the whole nudity thing.

The alien screeched something else befroe shooting off on its vehicle: Loki turned around, at last seeing the two of them. He quickly reared up, standing taller, lifting some odd, ornate sceptre.

"Are you this world's defenders?" he said. "A woman of dark eyes, and a woman clad in the sky?"

"Ugh, speak like a normal person," Sylvie muttered, staring at the floor.

"What?" he said, blinking.

"We know you can do it," Sylvie said. "It's just pretentious, it's not cool, trust me."

He blinked. Sylvie awkwardly sidestepped again to keep behind Hela, something made harder when Hela strode forwards.

"You," she said.

"You know him?" Sylvie said, caught off-guard.

It made sense, theoretically. Sylvie clearly hadn't had as much of her life as this version of her, though what she'd seen of Hela had suggested...

She wasn't sure what it suggested. But Hela had been Queen, and even if she was firstborn, she wasn't around. For her to take the throne rather than she or Thor implied the two weren't around, and Asgard had enough enemies that felt likely. But if she knew them, that...

Don't think about it. She'd wanted Hela's help, and nothing had changed; Hela's power was useful. She was just...

Selfish. Familiarly so. Still all too aware of the wind against her skin, rushing past her sides and legs, Sylvie took a quick step forwards and slipped her hand from its spot between her legs to lightly brush Hela's.

And powerful as Hela might be, she was weakened by her distance from Asgard, and Sylvie had a lot of practise peering into minds.

And oh.

She saw Valkyries, and she saw Odin's banishment, and she saw Hela's return. She saw the pretentious idiot of a Loki, and saw her brother, standing on a field in the middle of nowhere as Hela emerged.

Powerful, yes. Selfish, yes. Lonely, maybe. But also cruel in a way that Sylvie wasn't, driven to conquer and not merely survive, actions taken against the innocent as much as the deserving. Someone for whom Ragnarok might well be the only way to kill her. And the invading army she'd glimpsed coming into Asgard weren't invaders at all, but rather liberators, led by... well, led by a version of her.

Sylvie snatched her hand away.

"I felt... something," Hela said, eyes narrowing. Sylvie quickly drew her hand back inwards.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to touch you," Sylvie lied.

"Are you finished?" Loki said.

He lifted the sceptre; Sylvie felt a flicker of recognition, though she wasn't sure if it was from Hela's or Nat's memories; that was the mind stone. Set into that sceptre, it would be massively improved version of her own enchantment. Useful if...

If there was someone she wanted to get away from. That she suddenly couldn't bear being allied with.

She'd wanted the best from Hela, even trusted her. More fool her. And relying on Hela's judgement had...

Sylvie did her best to focus on Loki. He was poised to touch her with the tip of the sceptre.

"I am a god," he said. "It is not your place to-"

"Urgh," Sylvie muttered. "Just embarrassing.

Loki blinked. He glanced down at her.

"I can see why it would be," he amended.

"You have no idea," Sylvie said.

He paused, apparently not sure what to monologue about next; bracing herself, Sylvie darted forwards, moving to the side of the sceptre with speed Loki apparently didn't expect. She grabbed the hilt, wrenching it from his grip, again with strength he clearly wasn't expecting.

"You're not from Midgard," he said.

"Finally, am I really this dumb?" Sylvie said.

"That will be of little use," Hela said. "It operates under the same rules as the cube, in the TVA it will be- No!"

Sylvie turned, and quickly lunged for Hela; the tip of the staff brushed her chest, and a soft blue glow emanated from it, reaching Hela's eyes. Sylvie focused.

"You're going to give me the clothes you took from Betty," Sylvie said.

Hela hesitated a second. It was odd, controlling a mind with something external, though when it came to someone as powerful as Hela she didn't want to rely on playing with memories. As soon as they left the imagining, Sylvie would be ****. This way, at least, she'd hopefully have enough time to portal away and not deal with an annoyed Hela.

What was the point of travelling with her if her powers didn't work in the TVA, and she was anything but a trustworthy ally. No. She'd gotten this far herself, she could keep at it.

"I'm just... going to go," Loki said awkwardly.

Sylvie did her best to glower at him, heat rising to her cheeks. Was it weird to be self-conscious about being seen by a version of herself? She really couldn't say.

Hela was already undressing. Her face was tensed slightly, even the mind stone apparently not fully controlling her. Then again, the stone was rather dampened by being placed within this sceptre at all. Carefully, Sylvie held the sceptre to Hela's chest, lifting it back only for her to remove her top. Then the tip of the golden instrument rested between the Goddess's breasts, keeping her from lashing out.

With her other hand, Sylvie hastily opened a portal to a random destination; she didn't have time to double-check in this position, though she did make sure it wasn't Westview. She'd scoop up the clothes, and run through, and hopefully Hela wouldn't break out of the control before she was gone.

Finally, Hela stepped out of her panties, leaving the Goddess nude on the balcony. Sylvie took a deep breath, and crouched, sceptre in one hand, TemPad in the other, trying to scoop up the clothes over the top of the TemPad.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bewildered Loki still watching, apparently at more of a distance. She flushed deeper. Well, the TVA would be showing up sooner or later, and they were welcome to Hela.

Sylvie stood quickly. She still shivered a little in the breeze, the sceptre in one hand, clothes over her other fore-arm, and the rest of her left bare. Hela glared at her through blue-tinted eyes.

Okay, just turn and run through the portal, that would be...

"Okay. Not what I expected."

What looked like a red, metal suit suddenly shot up the side of the building, hovering in place over the air. Sylvie jumped in surprise, instinctively trying to cover up with her arms; she hugged Betty's clothes to her breasts, and tried to hide her core with the sceptre, only for the iron suit to blast something; the sceptre clattered out of her hands, and Sylvie stumbled back.

Of course this just had to end with being caught naked again... Flushed, she hurried away, and already had one foot in the portal when she heard an enraged scream behind her.

Looking over her bare shoulder, she saw a very naked, very angry Goddess of ****; one of Hela's swords whistled through the air, and Sylvie narrowly weaved to the sid, avoiding it.

Well, her body avoided it. It was hard to tell if Hela had aimed for it out of spite, or if it was just bad luck, but the sword shot past Sylvie's arm, and caught the stolen clothes with it. It speared them, wrenching them out of Sylvie's grip, and sending them shooting off the side of the building.

She half-considered staying to get a replacement, and then saw the look on Hela's face and decided against it. Well, she'd been naked in random time periods before, so hopefully she'd find a solution again.

Leaving Hela behind, Sylvie hastily closed the portal, and quickly looked around to see where she'd ended up.