Heyy reader fam! So this chapter will be a little shorter than usual because I've got some pretty big plans for next chapter. If you have any remarks, insights, or input on my recent chapters, please feel free to comment on my message board or DM me (:

Thank you so much for your support!! Enjoy the chapter 

Loki started with a gasp, hand flying to his chest where Lyra had touched him in the dream.

It's only a dream, He assured himself, his breath coming to him in ragged waves. His head was pounding, his heart beating a million beats per second. He clutched his shirt in his fist, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to picture the image his dreams had tortured himself with. But he couldn't help but see the gnarly, fresh burned flesh that swelled her skin above her bosom. Twin to the one that marred his own chest.

Lyra had moved like a wraith, her twisted spine had brought her agony with every moment and Loki could recognize that look in her eyes, of the heat of a billion fires dwindling to a single ember, the same thing he had felt. Why, even after her death, did he dream of her this way? Even over a Midgardian year since Lyra's doom, he still saw her behind his eyelids, still saw her in the dark crevices of every room, still saw her when he gazed unto himself in the mirror. Let it go, Loki begged himself, let her go, because he feared he would drive himself to insanity if he could not. Still, the idea of letting Lyra go was just as maddening.

He sent a longing look toward the velvet box on his nightstand, knowing that the ring he would've given her occupied it. That was another thing his dreams tormented him with, the image of Lyra being his wife, a wedding band adorning both of their left hands.

Loki still couldn't shake the image of Lyra crawling on the ground and begging the Captain of America for help, which that part he didn't quite understand, her ribs bent and the evidence they had once protruded her skin as he continued throughout the day.
-

I wish I could say time flew by, that it was all a blur, but the time would never be so kind.

Time with Thanos was like slow walking through tar, each second felt like years. Or.. was it? I'd been pushed through countless illusions, if they were even illusions at all, and I can't...

Thoughts jumble in my brain, my memory began to get so jumbled I couldn't gather words on my tongue, I couldn't think of my own name, I couldn't remember what some words mean.

I clung on to one memory that relentlessly stayed with me, a man with emerald green eyes and slick black hair, his name was a mystery to me. Occasionally it'd come back to me, before I would forget moments later.

Now, I couldn't tell if I was in an illusion or not.

The cold stone floor stuck needles through my skin, my head pounded with pain and I couldn't recall why.

All I could feel was the cold, the freezing sensation of icy air covering my like water and weighing down on me. I could feel the silence tighten around my throat, the fog growing thicker with every breath. Around me I couldn't see anything, it was just blackness, but not like it was dark... it was simply an absence of light.

My limbs were stiff and were shaking from the cold, my body ached for warmth of any kind. The clothing that barely stuck to my skin did little for me, I tried to curl up and bury my face in my arms, but my skin was cold to the touch.

I thought I could hear a distant voice talking incoherently, someone familiar to me. I wanted to walk toward the voice, to wrap it around me like a blanket and hide within its safety.

With shaking limbs, I pulled myself to my feet, taking an uneasy step forward. I could begin to hear the voice, saying loudly and in a somewhat aggressive way, "Lyra!" Its urgency startled me. The name Lyra was familiar to me, but I couldn't recall why. Was that once someone important to me? Was that my name?

How the hell should I know?

"Lyra!" Again the voice yelled, its once comforting familiarity now icy and frightening. In the distance I could see him standing there, a silver-tongued prince who still, despite all else, clung to my memory. Hesitantly, I took another step toward him. I could recall some memories where he held me tightly in his arms, his lips pressed to my skin with promise to keep me safe.

And other memories he held a blade to my skin.

Still with all of these different scenarios with him, I couldn't place a name. I walked toward him again, unsure of my decision, and the closer I got the colder the air became. My breath fogged like thick smoke and my knees quaked from the cold, I stopped walking toward him. I couldn't take much more of this, his voice called out toward me, beckoning me forward.

I shook my head, though somewhere in my heart I still longed to walk forward. I was about to brave the cold and start my trek toward him when a deep, ominous voice called out from behind me.

"You'll freeze if you go that way," I shivered, the voice was familiar, yes, but something was wrong about the faux concern in his voice. Or was that just my mind playing tricks on me?

I turned around toward the other voice, behind me was a tall, muscular man with purple, rough skin and a wrinkled chin. I looked up to study him (since he was pretty much twice as big as me), and crinkled my nose at him. I know him, and I know I do, but as soon as his name comes to mind and I'm about to realize who I'm facing I draw a blank. The titan had a concerned glint in his eyes and a patient grin on his face, which would otherwise be comforting, but the sight chilled me to my core.

"Where else am I supposed to go?" I asked, casting another look in the direction of the other man, whose name also dissolved on my tongue. 

"You'll find warmth closer to me, little bird. I assure you." the purple titan promised me, his nickname for me flipped my insides and I gave him a wary stare, his words had no value to me and I was almost sure he was lying. But still, I shivered from the cold and longed to subside it. It began to muddy my thoughts and swirl my vision. I took another step closer to the prince whom held more promise, but almost fell to my knees when another icy wave washed over me. My fingers were beginning to blue. 

"Lyra," He pleaded, urging me forward, but I could not stand it much colder. 

"It'll only get colder the further you'll walk away,"

I turned toward the titan once again. He stood only a few feet away, hand outstretched for me to take. As if testing the waters, I took a step toward the titan. As he promised, the cold began to subside little by little, a new warmth kissing my cheeks. It was not enough to tear away my discomfort, but still it was relieving. 

Perhaps he was telling the truth? Maybe my negative thoughts of him were only my own mind playing dirty tricks on me. Why would I subject myself to the cold more when he held safety in his hands? 

I looked the titan in the eyes, and my skin crawled. Still unsure, I glanced back at the silver-tongued prince I knew was back there. 

He was much farther away then the purple man, I could see him standing there but I couldn't see his face. He did not call out my name anymore, but just stood there. He seemed desperate, and one last time I considered coming toward him once again. 

My need to be warm once again took over my emotions, and then I turn away and toward the titan. 

Slowly, I laid my hand in his outstretched toward mine.

Realization slammed into me that I chose Thanos, the very person who tore me apart within, over my love, my light, my Loki. The thought tormented me and brought me agony inside, and I fell to my knees with the warmth I was promised as Loki's face was torn from my memory. 

The only thing keeping me sane was gone, and then I was only a shell.