There's a crow, sitting on a lamp post at the next turn in the star-path, watching her.

Loki stops walking.

"Ikol," she says, the word falling heavily into the silence.

"What's going on?"

"Why do you always look to others for your answers, Loki? You know what's happened."

"I killed the Scarlet Witch."

"This is the place between realities, isn't it? We fell, but not far enough."

"Got it in one." She flares her wings. "And now here we are, in a new sort of prison."

"We'll find our way out. Together."

"Loki, Loki, Loki... Always wanting to do things together. Haven't you learned, little girl?"

She takes a step back.

"Learned what?"

The crow just laughs.

"Did you ever figure out where you came from?"

"The old Loki. She destroyed the tapestry of fate, and she burned with it, and I was born from her ashes."

"Silly, silly little girl."

"You were made to die."

" - What?"

Another step back.

"Trust no one, Loki."

"Not even yourself."

The crow takes off.

Loki turns to run.

But the crow's already ahead of her, claws lashing out, black feathers swirling.

Loki trips.

And falls off the path, into the darkness.

And a different Loki lands.