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Loki didn't know whether to be surprised or not when they found out that the Timekeepers were mere mindless robots. So much had happened already that day, Loki could hardly make sense of what was going on. After all, it's not every day you escape an apocalypse, get tortured in a time loop, and have to watch your friend disintegrate.
Mobius. For all the bonding they had done, Loki still wasn't entirely sure what to make of the TVA agent. What bothered him most was the suddenness with which Mobius had been pruned. He was standing next to Loki one second and the next… he was gone.
Loki looked to where Sylvie was sulking, lamenting their failure in figuring out who exactly was behind the TVA. Loki found that he couldn't care less about the TVA as he watched her. Either of them could be pruned at any arbitrary time, and then their time would be up. The mission Sylvie had dedicated her life to would be for nought. She has to know, he thought. If the worst is to happen… she has to know.
"Sylvie," he said, turning to face her.
The defeat in her eyes was painfully obvious. "Not another pep talk, please."
"No, I have to tell you something. We will figure this out." As he framed her body with his arms, Loki found that he could not possibly find the words to express exactly what he wanted to say to her. He tried several times to convey his feelings but each attempt fell flat. What had happened to the silver-tongued god? Where was his wit; his eloquent vocabulary?
"What? What is it?" Sylvie pleaded, mimicking his own frustration.
Loki sensed more than felt the staff being stabbed into his back. He wanted to yell out to Sylvie, let her know of his feelings and desires with his last breath. He wanted to say, you don't deserve to be alone, and you never will be again if I can help it. He wanted to scream, I'm not sure what hope of a future there is for us, but I wish with all my heart to find out. He wanted to profess to the world, we've known each other for no time at all but I'm already falling - into what, I do not know, but I know that I'm falling and I've never lost control like this before. How could one fit such a speech into a dying breath?
He would have waited for her to make the first move, if she felt so inclined. There would be no grand romantic gestures, no I-love-yous for the moment, no talk of mischief and daggers like there had been on the train. But it would be real.
All of this went through Loki's head as he travelled through a black abyss and awoke on the ground, taking a second to acclimate to the new surroundings. As he looked up he saw what were presumably more variations of himself in yet another apocalypse, but with the exception of the only Variant he cared about. This is it, he thought. This must be Hel.