Chapter 36 – My Commute is Blocked by Fanatics

Suspension felt like a luxury vacation.

I woke up at eleven AM without an alarm, without my phone buzzing with containment emergencies, without the psychic pressure of cosmic horrors demanding my attention. Just me, my sad mattress, and the blessed silence of unemployment.

My neck didn’t hurt for the first time in weeks.

I stretched, feeling joints pop in a deeply satisfying way. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across the floor. Dust motes drifted through the beams like lazy snow.

This was what normal people experienced every day.

I could get used to this.

My phone sat on the nightstand, blessedly quiet. No missed calls from the facility. No texts from Miller about Loki turning the cafeteria into a dimensional pocket. No emergency alerts about Thalia freezing the entire sector because she missed me.​

Just peace.

I rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen.

The fridge was basically empty, just condiments and a questionable container of leftover Chinese food from last week. The cabinets held cereal that expired two months ago and a can of beans.

Grocery shopping it was.

I pulled on jeans and a hoodie, running a hand through my messy hair. The mirror in the bathroom showed someone who actually looked rested for once. Wild. My eyes weren’t bloodshot, no stress lines creasing my forehead.

Suspension was lowkey the best thing that ever happened to me.

I grabbed my keys off the counter, checked my wallet for cash, and headed out the door.

The morning air was crisp and clean, smelling like pine needles and damp earth. My beat-up Volkswagen sat in the driveway looking as tired as I usually felt. Peeling paint, rust spots, one headlight held on with duct tape.​

She was ugly but she was mine.

I unlocked the door and slid into the driver’s seat.

The engine coughed to life after three tries, sputtering before settling into a steady rattle. I backed out of the driveway, turning onto the empty street that led toward the main highway.

Empty.

I frowned, checking my mirrors.

No cars. Not a single vehicle on the road. No neighbors getting their mail, no morning joggers, no signs of human life at all.

Weird, but maybe everyone was sleeping in.

I turned onto Maple Street, heading for the highway entrance two miles away.

Still no cars.

The silence was starting to feel heavy, oppressive in a way that made my instincts itch. Something was off. This wasn’t normal quiet, this was wrong quiet.

I pressed the gas, picking up speed.

The highway entrance came into view around the bend.

I slammed on the brakes.

My VW skidded to a stop, the seatbelt digging into my chest.

The highway was blocked.

Not blocked like construction, blocked like military occupation.

Tanks sat across all four lanes, their turrets pointed outward. Armed soldiers in tactical gear stood at attention behind concrete barriers. And between the military hardware stood hundreds of people in robes, holding signs and banners.

I squinted, trying to read the signs from this distance.

PROTECT THE AVATAR.

NO GODS ALLOWED.

THE VOID DEFENDS ITS OWN.

My stomach dropped straight through the floorboards.

Oh no.

I put the car in park and got out, walking closer on foot.

The cultists noticed me immediately, several turning and pointing. Whispers rippled through the crowd like a wave.

One of the soldiers stepped forward, holding up a hand.

“Sir, the highway is closed. Spiritual quarantine in effect.”

I stopped walking, my brain trying to process what I was seeing.

“Spiritual quarantine.”

The soldier nodded, his expression serious.

“By order of President Elizabeth. No entry or exit until the divine threat is neutralized.”

A massive screen flickered to life behind the barricade, mounted on some kind of mobile platform.

Elizabeth’s face appeared, larger than life, her eyes blazing with fanatic determination.​

“Citizens, we stand at a crossroads of history.”

Her voice boomed through speakers, echoing across the empty highway.

“The False Gods of Asgard march against our lord. They seek to punish him for his divinity, to drag him from his home and bind him in chains.”

What.

“We will not allow this. We have sealed the borders. We have fortified the perimeter. No heathen will pass. No false god will touch our Avatar.”

I stared at the screen, my mouth hanging open.

What the actual hell was happening.

“This is a holy quarantine. A sanctuary blockade. We protect what is ours. We defend what is sacred.”

Elizabeth raised her fist, the gesture sharp and military.​

“The Silent Void watches. The Silent Void protects. The Silent Void will not yield.”

The cultists erupted into cheers, raising their signs higher.

The soldiers stood at attention, clearly taking this whole thing seriously.

I turned slowly, looking back at my neighborhood.

The other direction would be the same, wouldn’t it. Blocked. Sealed. Every exit point occupied by my accidental cult and whatever military forces Elizabeth had mobilized.​

I was trapped in my own city.

By people trying to protect me.

From a threat that probably didn’t exist.

I walked back to my car, got in, and sat there for a long moment.

My phone was still quiet, no alerts about any Asgardian invasion. No news notifications about divine conflicts. Nothing to suggest Elizabeth’s paranoid fantasy had any basis in reality.

Someone had played her.

Someone had convinced her I was in danger, fed her false information, manipulated her into mobilizing an entire city’s worth of military and religious fanatics.

I had a pretty good guess who.

Loki.

This had her fingerprints all over it. The theatrical presentation, the narrative manipulation, the sheer chaos potential of setting up a conflict between armed cultists and confused Asgardian diplomats who had no idea why they were being accused of anything.

I started the car and turned around.

The grocery store was inside the quarantine zone anyway, I could still get food. I just couldn’t leave to go to work. Not that I had work to go to, being suspended and all.

Silver lining, I guess.

I drove back through the empty streets, passing more checkpoints manned by robed figures. They waved at me as I passed, some even bowing. One guy held up a sign that said AVATAR OF THE VOID in glittery letters.

I did not wave back.

My house appeared around the corner, looking exactly as sad and run-down as I left it. I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

Suspension just got way more complicated.

I sat in the driver’s seat, staring at my peeling paint siding and crooked porch.

At least I didn’t have to deal with containment emergencies for a few days. Couldn’t go to work even if they called me back early. Elizabeth’s holy war made that physically impossible.

My phone buzzed.

I pulled it out, checking the screen.

Unknown number.

The text message made my eye twitch.

“Don’t worry, help is on the way! ;)”

I knew that winky face.

I typed back fast, my thumbs hitting the screen harder than necessary.

“Loki what did you do.”

Three dots appeared, showing she was typing.

They disappeared.

They appeared again.

The response came through.

“Me? Nothing! I’ve been in my cell the whole time, being super good and behaving perfectly! Ask anyone!”

I resisted the urge to throw my phone at the windshield.

Another text came through before I could respond.

“But hypothetically, if someone WERE to start a small diplomatic incident between religious fanatics and Asgardian diplomats, it would be really funny, right? Like conceptually hilarious?”

I dropped my head against the steering wheel, the horn making a sad wheeze.

Loki had orchestrated this entire mess. Somehow. For entertainment purposes.

My phone buzzed again.

“Also you should check on Thalia. I think she’s having a heavy day. Get it? HEAVY?”

I didn’t get it but I also didn’t care.

I got out of the car and went inside, locking the door behind me.

The house was quiet, no alarms, no emergencies, no cosmic horrors demanding my attention. Just me and my expired cereal and the knowledge that my chaos goddess inmate had apparently started an international incident.

I opened the fridge, grabbed the questionable Chinese food, and ate it cold.

Suspension was supposed to be relaxing.

This was the opposite of relaxing.

My phone buzzed approximately seven more times in the next minute, all from Loki, all containing variations of “this is fine” memes and laughing emojis.

I turned my phone off and threw it on the couch.

Tomorrow I was going to figure out how to dismantle a religious military blockade, prevent a diplomatic catastrophe with Asgard, and probably have a very serious conversation with Loki about boundaries and appropriate behavior.

Today I was going to eat questionable lo mein and pretend none of this was happening.

Being the son of Patient Zero was exhausting.