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It's been a year since Loki saved the TVA. Since he was no longer within Mobius' arms reach.
Mobius wakes up, relishing the few seconds of pure bliss, reaching out beside him only to find it empty. Expecting to wake up to Loki being by his side seemed so natural. Reality comes crashing back into him. He drags himself out of bed.
He finds himself walking down the street. He wonders about every stranger whose wavy black hair doesn't quite reach their shoulders, every stare that lingers on him for too long.
A sign on the florist catches his attention. Before his brain catches up with his actions, the bells on the florist's door jingle, and he walks into the store. A bouquet catches his eye - Bright green stalks with blooming blue flowers. He buys it.
He continues down the path, not knowing where it'll lead, but it doesn't matter. There's no one to return to. He clutches onto the bouquet and treads on.
The garden he walks by is hosting an event. Kids dressed as the Avengers whiz pass him. A girl dressed as Thor waves to him. He sees a little boy with black hair run up to her, holding a cardboard Tesseract. Mobius tears his gaze away from them.
Sitting down on a bench, he watches the people walking past him. The sounds of tyres bumping across the street and the occasional horn. With nothing to distract him from himself, his thoughts drift to Loki again.
Is he happy? He must be. Absolute power over all the timelines. What more can a God want than control? Loki must be happy.
He must be. He should be. But could he be?
Mobius recalls the day they separated. The painful memory has long since lost its edges. He remembers the fear and sadness in Loki's eyes through the glass. Was it fear of death or fear of losing his family?
Reminiscing about the days they spent together, the banters and the familiarity. It was the one connection Mobius truly felt and treasured.
"I miss you," He says to the humid air of the city.
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Loki sits on his throne. Was it a throne or a prison? Suspended in nothingness, chained by the weight of everything that was, is, and might be. How much time has passed?
He peers into the timelines. It is easy to locate Sylvie. She has given herself a life of repeated cycles of work and friends. She sits on a chair in her cosy apartment, listening to music. The day when he parted from her and Mobius is a distant memory to her. She is smiling.
Loki closes his eyes. Mobius. He focuses his attention on Mobius. The pull into his timeline is overwhelmingly magnetic, like something - or someone - is reaching out to him. His consciousness slips into the timeline easily.
He sees Mobius walk down the street with no destination in mind. The pang of sadness in his heart - does he still have a heart? - worsens the longer he looks. Yet, he is unable to look away.
His consciousness reaches out to him. Strains against the branches holding him back, like the surface tension of water before it breaks. He claws, desperate to reach the surface for a breath of air. Unable to reach the breaking point, he drowns. Into the depths of nothingness once more.
He's back on his throne. He's never left his throne.
He takes one last look at Mobius. He's far away, a speck in his golden branch. He's sitting now.
"I miss you." An echo. Faded. Loki barely hears it.
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Mobius sighs and stands up, forcing himself to face the reality of his timeline. He grips the bouquet a little harder. He hopes the faint green glow of the flowers in response is more than a trick of the eye.