Loki stares at the massive statue in front of him of the man he just saw only moments before in another world in another form. It feels even larger than he remembers the statue of the Time-Keepers being as it looms over the TVA. He feels his heart sink. He'd asked Sylvie to slow down, to think, to allow a moment to breathe and choose what path they would walk together, regardless to whether or not she killed He-Who-Remains. But now, everything is different and the world she's sent him to isn't the world he'd left. This Mobius doesn't recognize him. This Mobius won't understand why his voice trembles or why he can't focus on giving the information he's been asked to give.

Everything sounds muted. He turns to face Mobius and Hunter B-15, "Something's wrong. I know your name, but you don't know mine. You trained me. Maybe it was in another world, but you're why I'm here. I'm sorry. My name is Loki. All I know is I worked with you for a time and now you don't know who I am."

Mobius stares at him, "I'm going to have to ask you to go with security when they get here, Loki. Something's clearly wrong and I can't have you causing panic because you seem to know us when we don't know you."

"We were in the Void at the end of time," Loki says, "Don't you know about that? It's where they send you when a reality is pruned, when you're pruned. They can't just destroy the matter- the universe won't allow it. It all goes somewhere and I've been to that place. So have you. So has Sylvie. But I'm going to guess you don't know her, either."

Mobius shakes his head, "Sorry, no, I don't."

Loki hangs his head, "Then what was it all for?"

Security comes around the corner and Mobius sighs, "Look...I don't know what you're talking about. You sound like you've been through a lot, so let's get you somewhere you can rest. Maybe after a little time by yourself, maybe a good long nap, you'll be able to sort it all out. These folks are going to take you to some place safe and quiet you can do that."

Loki nods, "Just please don't prune me. Not yet."

Mobius shakes his head, "I don't know why you think you'd be pruned. Nobody's going to prune an analyst."

"I don't know about that," Loki says as security officers take his elbow and guide him away. He looks back to Mobius, "Where I came from, they pruned you once you knew where you came from."

As Loki is led away, Mobius turns to Hunter B-15, confused, "Where I came from? What does that mean?"

"No idea, Mobius. No idea. So far as I know, you've always been here."

Mobius sighs, "Something's really wrong with that guy. I hope he can get his head on straight. Seems like there's something really heavy on his mind."

"You think he's not just delusional?" Hunter B-15 asks.

Mobius shrugs, "Who knows? But whatever he is, I still hate to see somebody that upset and not know how to help."

Loki is escorted to a quiet room with a bed and an attached bathroom. The door seals behind him. There is no handle on the inside and it doesn't open when he approaches it. He drops down on the bed and stares at the ceiling. His body aches from the fight with Sylvie and he realizes how exhausted he is. He doesn't know how long it's been since he's slept. He doesn't even know how long he was working for the TVA before he found Sylvie, and he certainly doesn't know how long it's been since his ill-fated invasion of New York. It hits him how much he's changed as a person in that time. How much he's grown. How much he's cared for other people and how much it hurts to know they're no longer with him. And when that feeling hits and settles over him like a weight pressing down on his chest, aiming to crush him, he can't stop himself from spiralling down in to despair. He misses Mobius, his Mobius. This one's nice enough, but he needs someone who knows what he's been through. This Mobius doesn't even seem to know what a Loki is. He doesn't seem to understand that there's a history in him of sadness and pain and of friendlessness that he let himself undo with only a few people, but still, people he let see him for who he is, at least a little bit.

Laying on his back, staring at the ceiling, Loki silently sobs, tears streaming down his cheeks, his grief drowning him, the heaviness of it making it hard for him to catch his breath. He feels sick. He runs to the bathroom and heaves into the toilet, his tears causing his hair to cling to his cheeks. He shudders as he sits back in front of the toilet. He wipes his tears on his sleeves, hoping they will stop, knowing they won't. Mobius is gone. He might have died when he returned to the TVA. He wasn't a soldier, and Loki understands just how badly his goal of burning the TVA to the ground might have gone. A fresh wave of grief washes over him and he wishes he knew if the room were soundproof so he could yell his frustration and let himself verbalize his sobs. Instead, he stays silent.

As he mourns Mobius, he also things of Sylvie. He's lost someone both so like himself and so full of so much pain that he wishes he could have swept from her, letting her feel relief without having to be alone. He wonders if she's found her peace, now that the man she'd been searching for nearly her whole life is, presumably, dead. He wonders if another one has risen up to take his place. He hopes she is still alive, but he knows that if a worse version of He-Who-Remains came to the Citadel, her anger would take her only so far.

His mind drifts to their fight as he feels the aches in his muscles. He shouldn't feel this way. He is a warrior of Asgard. And yet he does and he can't help but wonder why. It was only recently that he fought the Avengers and only recently he fought Sylvie for the first time, and the guards on Lamentis, and then the Minutemen in the Time-Keepers' chambers. He wonders if there are TimeKeepers here and decides there can't be. Thinking of them reminds him, yet again, of Sylvie and the moment he'd realized there was something to them beyond just that little moment of wonder at her tenacity on Lamentis, the moment that changed his life entirely when he realized he didn't have to die alone and he could find peace with another person beside him. That moment he realized there was another person who had felt the same kind of rage at betrayal. He'd wanted to say so much to her in that moment, but most of all he'd wanted to tell her that the most important thing he'd come to realize is that he had a friend, that he trusted her explicitly, and that all he wanted to was to stand with her until the end, even if that meant they died together confronting whatever power stood behind the TVA. There is a part of him that wonders if he could have told her that he loved her, in one way or another, even then.

He thinks about how it felt too see her in the Void, how much he'd wanted to run to her, to throw his arms around her, and to tell her he was so glad he didn't have to live without her. How much he'd wanted to do the same for Mobius, and how quickly he'd decided he couldn't do either. He thinks about how it felt to sit close to her, to feel the warmth of her body against his, and to hear her say he was her friend. Was. He hates the sound of that word, but he wonders how friendship can endure through the rage in her voice when she'd told him to kill her to stop her. He remembered what it felt like to have her sword to his throat and to understand that she was willing to kill him, the person she'd shared so much with, the person who had wanted to say how much he cared about her sitting close together in the grass, but told her that wasn't what this was when he rejected Mobius' theory on what they were to one another. He was scared of how close he was to her. He wasn't ready. Neither was she. And he'd known that if he admitted something, he might lose her. So he'd denied his heart and hoped she believed him when he said he wouldn't betray her in the end. Then he had. He'd broken his promise to his friend.

And then...the kiss. The moment when everything he couldn't put into words poured from his heart and, he'd thought, into hers. When he had believed, for one brief moment, she'd felt the same for him. But he could never be more important than the mission. She'd told him as much on Lamentis- never at the expense of the mission. And as he thinks about what it was like to be thrown backwards through the time door into this place and to know he'd been cut off from her unless he could venture back into the Void and master enchantment on his own to get past Alioth.

He returns to the bed and lays down on his stomach, sniffling as he kicks off his shoes and feels his eyes droop once his head hits the pillow.

"Maybe Mobius is right. Maybe this will make more sense if I sleep," he mutters to himself, his words slurring as he starts to fall asleep while speaking. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and by the time his lungs empty and another breath is on the way, his eyes are closed and he's fallen into a deep slumber.