Chapter 1
Burning. Burning. Burning.
"You should thank me," he says, and Loki is gone.
She won't admit it (she won't get a chance to), but Loki screams as she falls. And then she groans, because she's just hit the ground, and it wasn't very pleasant. As she stands, she doesn't even get a chance to ask "Where-" before her not-quite-question is answered.
Before her stand an elder and a child. A story and a crime- and she's not sure which is which. But they are herself, in times gone by, in deaths already suffered. And between them sits a familiar crown.
"This is a metaphorical space," says the elder. "Hidden behind a whim, buried in a daydream." His eyes are empty, she realizes. Empty, empty, empty. But he continues, even as the Loki-of-now shudders. "The place we Lokis always go for the final act."
How melodramatic, she thinks, and would be tempted to say it if her guilt weren't hanging over her like a metaphorical-space-raincloud.
And the guilt, the child itself- himself- speaks, addressing her with no ill will in his tone. "This is a place of decision."
"Decision?" she echoes, feeling as though she herself is a child, faced with a tragedy she cannot yet begin to understand. "I don't- my future is decided. I don't have a choice."
"Of course you do." He smiles, but gods, his eyes are just as empty as the elder's. "You always had a choice."
"And I chose to kill you."
His smile falls, but there is no malice in the expression that replaces it. Why is there no malice, why is there no blame? And he nods, and he speaks. "I didn't want to die." Loki, the Loki-of-now, kneels before the child, and listens. "I was a fresh start. I was what everyone said they wanted."This time, there is malice, there is blame, but it is still not directed at Loki, and she can't for the slowly-diminishing life in her figure out why.
"But they didn't," he continues, in the voice of a child with tears brewing behind his eyes- if they weren't so damnably empty. "The didn't want the fresh start, they didn't want me- the old was deemed preferable to the good, as is always the way." And she knows that all too well, feeling phantom flames lick at her limbs.
He smiles at her though, smiles at his death as he describes it aloud. "The Void took me. I died forever." And as Loki shakes, his smile is kind. "I am done. I am gone."
"I am sorry."
"I know." He sits before her, crossing his legs like the child he is. They are equal like this, sitting on the ground, and she wants to bury herself to fix it. "I've haunted you long enough, haven't I? Even the Void would be better. You could embrace it, and end the story of Loki." She watches as his face shifts, warps into something no child should be. "Save everything from yourself, and cease to be."
She considers it.