It’s still difficult sometimes to think of Loki, no matter that he still has a brother yet through the Nexus. Even if all other memory fades, Thor is certain he will never forget that terrible moment on the Statesman where Loki had met his end. It helps, a little, that he still has a Loki he can see and touch, a shoulder to lean on when Thor has needed it most direly, the only family he has left.

Thor nods, swiping at the dampness of his eye. “Yes, that’s her. She’s around, somewhere. You might see her yet.” He passes no judgment on their relationship, of course; Loki is not the first Odinson to fall for a mortal, though he’d mocked Thor for it at the time. But Thor’s relationship had not lasted, and now that he’s seen far more death than any man or god should ever have to, he would be the last to begrudge anyone for the solace they find in each other, no matter how short-lived.

His laugh is barely more than a breathy chuckle, directed more at himself than the friend at his side. “You sound certain that I haven’t.” Thor himself is not so sure. He’d like to believe so. Yet he feels like a stranger living in his own body, his own mind turned against him. But Prometheus does not know the cruel twist at the end of the story, what had happened after the last time they’d spoken, and Thor finds the words spilling out of him before he consciously chooses to speak. “The stones are gone.”