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Loki has made the ultimate sacrifice and surrendered himself to be forever and alone, all for the safety of the Multi-Verse— selflessly saving and protecting all existence and free will itself. He proved to be the god he knew he was meant to be. To some, he would be known as the fallen prince of Asgard— a weak god, a dramatic villain, but at the TVA he would always be remembered for who he really is— a hero, a savior. Mobius made sure of that.
Mobius hadn't visited C.R.O.N. ever since loki left. In the beginning, he would spend hours there, just waiting. He stayed for what felt like forever and nothing at the same time, and stared out the big glass window in front of him. He gazed at the beautiful sight in front of him, the green branches flowing gracefully and free. No matter how many times he looked at it— him, it still felt new and sharp. It was a sort of pain he was well familiar with now.
He had spent ages here with loki and ouroboros, looking at the self-destructing temporal loom as they tried their best to save the tva and existence itself, and they failed.
No.
They didn't fail, mobius did.
Maybe if Mobius had done one thing differently, Loki would still be here. Free and beside him.
But there wasn't anything that could reassure Mobius. There was no way he could find what he could have done differently or if there even was another way, because there was only one Tva and this was the only outcome.
No alternate realities, no alternate solutions and no consolations. This was his burden.
Soon after, he thought of quitting.
The thought lingered, ultimately choking him at its heft. It was something Mobius constantly felt guilty of for even thinking, to him it felt like betraying Loki’s memory.
The thought of quitting wasn't just about leaving a job, to mobius it was about betraying a core belief, his identity, maybe even his own ‘purpose’. He couldn't turn his back on everything he loved and knew, even if it remained no more. He wanted to stay home— at the tva, but a part of him knew that the halls and corridors would always feel empty. The shadows of his partner would remain arched upon his perfect memory, his office would be exceptionally deserted and lone, his possessions would forever be marked by Loki's magic touch. The gravity of his magic no longer could pull Mobius in, despite all of existence and time being Loki's magic now.
The ghost of Loki's potential life would follow him around, and would constantly remind him of the immense pain and suffering he’s been through, and will continue to go through for as long as life and time remained.
You see, Loki was strong. Stronger than mobius could ever be. He was a god afterall, but It haunted Mobius anyway— the thought of Loki spending centuries time slipping and trying to find a humane answer to an impossible question, alone. How many times was Loki close to breaking, and Mobius had no idea? He would've helped him surely, or provided some sort of support if he knew. He remembered all of it all too well.
There is no comfort. You just choose your burden.
Thank you mobius.
Loki had sacrificed himself for this, for Mobius to have free will, to have a choice. And it seemed a poor way to respect his last wish by refusing to accept it. The least he could do is try to understand and consider the choices Loki had given him.
Sylvie was sure to make use of that, make sure that she would do everything Loki would've wanted her to. To live and to just be. She was out there, somewhere on the timeline, writing her own story.
It was different for Mobius, there was no story that felt his without Loki.
The more time he spent on the timeline, the more it was obvious that he didn't belong. Mobius was truly a nowhere man, and this was his fate. There was no comfort, he accepted his burden and he let time pass.
So far, he had spent seven decades on earth.
He visited ancient Greece and spent several midnights in Paris. He roamed the streets of Asgard. He saw the most beautiful views in recorded TVA history. He tried every fruit and drink in Asgard. He read every midgardian book he could get his hands on. He enjoyed music and lived through the stories he came to know. He lived through the attack in New York multiple times and felt hopeless. He was desperate to help Loki, to show him that there's life beyond manipulation and cruelty. He hated Thanos for what he did to Loki.
He sat nearby below Loki's statue for months. A man with grey hair and eons of memories wearing a tie and dirty brown coat with strange big orange letters on the back, his expressions calm and empty, his tired eyes looking for hope but finding none— it was a strange sight for civilians to see in early 1389. He saw Thor and even Loki himself inevitably. It wasn't his loki of course, so there was no point in torturing himself with conversation. (though he was sure that this variant of loki would’ve asked him to kneel and serve him. Or make an example out of mobius to prove his own worth). He thought he would've felt comforted, or even just sad at the sight. But life was cruel, and he felt numb. His mind was deserted and drowning at the same time, and all Mobius could think to do was drink coffee and have key-lime pie.
Mobius already knew every second of Loki's life from the sacred timeline, but with all these new timelines and branches, he had more to learn about him. That's the thing about infinite variants, Mobius could dedicate every second of his being to studying and watching every part of Loki's life, to understand him, and he would never be able to finish. There would always be more, more that he couldn't know and therefore he would never be able to fully understand Loki, whom he loved dearly and unconditionally.
What would grief have been, if not love persevering?
He started visiting his life on the timeline, and on the branches.
He went to the exact time and place in the universe where Loki had found him- or rather where Loki found Don.
He was early, but only by two minutes.
Soon enough Don stepped out, his two sons playing in their backyard. Mobius looked around for any sight of Loki, he wasn't sure if he would see him at all now. The TVA still did not fully understand how time slipping worked, especially for Loki— who is time itself. He didn't know if those versions of Loki time slipping would remain in history, or if they do, he didn't understand how Loki controlled it and prevented the fabric of time from ripping apart.
Maybe he would've known if Loki stayed.
Maybe.
His eyes swept the scene, looking for any evidence that would lead him to believe that Loki is here, or at least was. His eyes found Loki, about 15 feet away from him.
Loki looked nervous, looking at the same scene Mobius was looking at mere seconds ago.
Why was Loki nervous? It was only a variant of mobius, and he knew him.
Don called for his sons, he seemed to be laughing and annoyed at the same time. Mobius did his best to remain completely and unnervingly still and quiet.
About 30 seconds later, Loki fixed up his hair and straightened his collar, taking in a deep breath and walked towards the scene.
Either it had been too long or maybe Mobius was emotionally drained, but this felt sickening, like a punch to the stomach. Loki was nervous to talk to him.
No.
He was nervous to see Don.
He was Don, except he wasn't.
Was Loki nervous to see Mobius or was he nervous because it was now Don? Or was it another unknown reason completely? Didn't he trust Mobius? Was something wrong?
Suddenly, Mobius felt like his eyes began to water. He uncontrollably started tearing up and immediately started clicking away on his Tempad, shoulders trembling— a silent sniffle escaped as the screen glowed a soft blue hue. Although he hesitated, he slammed his thumb down and a time door appeared behind him, Mobius felt regret wash over him as he vanished. He couldn't think straight, not really. Loki was still talking to Don, he assumed they were in Don’s garage by now; and Mobius was now in this quiet library in the year 2063.
Questions. So many questions.
Mobius had no answers.
And perhaps he would know none.
Thank you, Loki.
We barely knew you.