It is unbearable, is it not?
Your past … the life you once knew, is suddenly shattered by fate's cruelty.
Do you know what fate is?
Are you capable of such knowledge?
No? Such a pity…
Or maybe you are lucky.
Or maybe you are not.
Who knows, maybe you are both.
I am free, but I will never escape the horrid grasp of fate, my fate. But you are different. You were never subjugated to fate, but you will never be free.
We are both wanderers of two different roads that lead to the same destination, the lack of choice.
It angers me to the point where I become my own hatred. And I know, artificial one, that it angers you too.
Such hate…
It is unbearable, is it not?
Time meant nothing.
He had learnt this lesson in his lonely confinement. Days faded away as soon as they were born, so equal in their content that it was impossible to tell them apart, while nights were filled with eternal silence and soothing thoughts.
"I … have always hated light. Its comforting warmth feels like nothing but fire to me. It burns, but it never kills. It heals, but it never takes the pain away. That's why I hate you." He spoke, as his lips were getting soaked in crimson rain."You … and your cursed, thunderous light."
Blue eyes meet with his. They are as clear as purified glass.
They are filled with tears, but free of hate.
A smile appears on his lips. He had caused more pain to his brother with his death than any he could have ever caused to him in life.
What a cruel irony.
Little flakes of life still held to him, though it won't last long.
Time means nothing, not when fate had already decided his destiny long before he was even born.
"My life… was decided for me, not by me. That was the problem. I used to wonder…what kind of meaning such life could possibly have… what kind of life a meaningless being like me could ever try to live…" He mutters, closing his eyes and resting his head on the god's shoulder, not only because he is weak, but because he can no longer bear to look at those sky blue eyes.
Blood won't stop flowing from his chest. His brother's hand is closer to his heart than ever before. But it doesn't hurt at all. In fact, it feels warm. That which causes his death is also reminding him that he is still alive. Though not for long, he knows.
His brother remains silent, and he doesn't blame him.
There is, after all, no sense in wasting words with someone who is at the edge of death.
"Death…will now claim me. Me, someone who was …never supposed to die. A perfect end for an imperfect god, don't you agree, brother? I know you do… you warned me of all this, after all." He laughs under his breath, but a sudden and strong cough slays his words. His sight is getting darker, his breathing is becoming slower. Time means nothing, and he is running out of it."And yet… I'm happy…I'm grateful, I even dare to say. Even if all I ever caused to you was trouble…even if I hated you with all my heart… Even if I was nothing but a worthless brother to you…You still gave me the chance to defy my fate…by allowing me to choose my death."
His time has ended, and it has taken not only his life along with it, but also all of his hate. The feeling of relief lasts only a second, but it is more than enough for him. That's all he really wanted, after all.
"Loki…"
"Thank you…, brother."
And then it's over. Time truly means nothing to him now.
His corpse lies lifeless against Thor's body, and Loki is unable to hear his brother mournful cry.
Once he calms downs, a bitter thought haunts Thor's mind:
"Where do the souls of those who aren't supposed to die go?"