Loki -2021-2021 Now

He left before Thor could ask his name.

2021–2021. Short. Impossible. Perfect. Loki -2021-2021

“To 2021,” he said to the void. “The year I learned to stop running. The year I learned to stay.” He left before Thor could ask his name

August was quiet. He read all of Shakespeare’s tragedies in a single night and laughed at them. “You call this suffering?” he muttered. “I invented suffering. In 2021.” Loki -2021-2021

November was cold. He stood on the edge of the multiverse, watching timelines bloom like flowers from a corpse. He Who Remains had called it a loom. Loki called it a garden. And gardens needed gardeners. But not masters. Never again a master.