Loki sat alone, surrounded by relics of his past mischiefs, his eyes fixed on the screen as the new Avengers film played. The room was silent except for the soft hum of the television. His heart skipped a beat as Cora, the team's latest recruit, appeared on screen. "She's doing well," he mumbled to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.
Loki leaned forward, his hands clenching the armrest, as Cora fought against overwhelming odds. The intensity of the battle mirrored the storm brewing within him. The room seemed to shrink, every second stretching into eternity as the fight raged on.
Loki bolted upright, his heart pounding in his chest. "No, not her," he breathed, his voice filled with an urgency that betrayed his emotions. His mind blurred the lines between fiction and reality, and he rushed to the screen, his fingers brushing against the cold glass, as if his touch could alter the outcome.
"Cora, wake up, please wake up," Loki implored, his voice a soft plea against the chaos on-screen. The weight of unspoken words and regrets hung heavily in the air, as if the room itself mourned alongside him. He closed his eyes, willing the universe to hear his silent prayer.
Loki sank back onto the floor, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away, leaving behind a hollow ache. "It's just a story," he murmured, trying to convince himself. Yet, deep down, he knew it was more than that. It was a reflection of his fears and hopes, intertwined with the fate of those he dared to care for.
The first light of dawn crept into the room, bringing with it a sense of renewal. Loki rose, determination etched into his features. The world outside awaited, filled with possibilities and challenges yet to be faced. "I won't let this be the end," he vowed to the empty room, his resolve as unyielding as the morning light.
