[Open w/ Laurel and Ben] It was finished, at last. Loki had proven himself the ultimate diversion. Now, he would crush Camp Halfblood underfoot. He stood amidst the slaughter of the Wreath of Abbadon, blood covering his bare skin, streaking his face red. He could feel it; the pain in his back, the ecstasy filling every limb...it was bliss. As he felt the darkness consume him, he had one last thought before he took off; he couldn't wait to watch them burn.