"Most of it is my fault, ultimately," he says with a leaden voice, but her gentleness gives him enough hope to draw a deep breath and look up at her again, humbler and more open than she's seen him in decades. The poison in him, his jealousy and the bitterness of feeling out of place and unwanted compared to Thor, has existed since before he knew of his Jotun heritage. Had things played out differently, he might have been eased into knowledge, maybe taken it as a blessed explanation instead of a betrayal. It might have been the making of him and not the breaking. But there's no denying he's been...troubled. Even since he was a child.

"But I'm not asking for punishment," he says, and then there's the ghost of a smile on his lips. Only for a moment.

"I am not even sure I'm looking for redemption. It appeals, some days. When I look at Thor and imagine myself at his side, reconciled. Trusted."

His gaze drops again. "That's not really me, though. I am trying...to fight from the shadows, for my people. The ones that remain. I think there is little left in me but spite, Mother. But I know where to aim it now. I'm not sure I can defeat Thanos, no matter how much love and worship I may earn here or in the worlds attached to the Nexus. But I can try."

"Do you think it will change me? If I act like a benevolent god, if I give back to those who follow me?" At the moment, it's just practical. He needs the attention and he'll do whatever it takes to earn it. It's surprisingly gratifying, though.