A/N: There are 2 major character deaths in this story and though I skirted much of it, they are still deaths. I'm not sure if anyone wrote this before or anything similar, if there is, I didn't copy and didn't meant to. Sorry in advance! This was written in a semi-hurry and is unbeta-ed, so forgive any mistakes and do point them out if you see any. :)

Hope you like it.

He watched the universes collapsing upon itself. The worlds and realms burning its eerie aureate light into his eyes. The tree had entrusted its knowledge of the future upon his picayune self when he came into his powers; the truth of the time and magic melding into him. There were things to do, paths to follow and there was no one but him that could achieve it.

Loki stared at his brother in the glass cell. An unfamiliar growing warmth in the back of his eyes. The mask he carried since that day nearly slipped before he pulled a sneer, "Humans thinks us immortal. Should we test that?"

"Move away, please." The mortal man that ran through the door carrying a kree weapon said. He recognized the mortal, the mortal man that would have one day become a friend for life for him had he not walked down this path. The doubts of his decision rose, crowding his mind.

Walk onto the path of thorns to become the wall that protects all you hold dear.

He shoved his fears away, knowing full well that the mortal man would survive this. Loki did not dare recall the other memories the Yggdrasil had given him at the moment of his awakening. The fear – or rather the knowledge that he would permanently have to end Phil Coulson one day with his own bare hands gripped his throat like a iron fist. Loki ostensibly mentally labelled him the mortal, refusing to let the version of Phil he knew draw him closer. This Phil was the other Phil, the Phil that he would never be friends with.

"You like this? We started working on the prototype after you sent The Destroyer. Even I don't know what it does. Do you wanna find out?"

His mind screamed for forgiveness as he plunged his staff through the man's heart. His mask threatening to break as he threw the mortal into the wall. He would survive, Loki reiterated to himself as he walked away from the bleeding man. He slapped the switch, watching his brother fall off the helicarrier, a drop that he knew his brother was capable of surviving and as he watched the Chitauri flocked in the city of New York and watched them slaughter the innocent Midgardians, he reminded himself of the cause.

He remembered each death that was caused by his actions: the war on Vanaheim, the deaths in the Battle for New York, Ultron. Sewing each individual sacrificed life into the inside of his coat. Each death brought him closer to the end and each death reminded him of how he had to succeed.

Too much lives to turn back, too far back to give up.

Son of Coul remembered him when he turned to see him sitting in the chair at his desk. Loki hadn't doubted that he would.

"Good tidings, Son of Coul." Loki nodded, sitting in the chair and trying to appear as harmless as possible. He could see the man tensing up, his mind whirling with what he could do. Then resignation. The mortal man knew there was nothing he could to get out or ensure his safety.

"I am not here to hurt you." Loki held his hands up in a placating manner. The fear and panic that the mortal hid so well killed him inside.

"Are you not? I remember-" his words faltered, his hands unconsciously moving up to grip his chest.

A desolate look flickered across Loki's face. He did not put the mask on today. There was no need for masks with him, no need to hide the truth. Telling him this was risky, but Son of Coul, Phil would do the right thing. In the timelines that he had traversed where he had chosen to forgo his given path, Phil was his most trusted friend, his unwavering compass.

"No." Loki steepled his hands. "I am here to tell you a story."

The mortal man frowned. "So you could brainwash me? I think not." His hands inched towards where he kept his gun.

"I do not have to do this, but I believe you deserve to know."

Intrigued, the man sat down on his chair heavily. "So tell me what lies you wish to spin," He replied blandly.

Loki sighed. Trust that he never gained and would never gain. "It is your choice to believe but what I tell you is the truth." He pursed his lips, leaning on his knees. "When magic users in Asgard finish their training, they commune with Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life. Occasionally, Yggdrasil would bestow gifts. Like the Spakona that are given the gift of foresight. I was given the choice."

Closing his eyes, he remembered the eerie light etching into his mind. The end of the worlds and his choice. It could hardly be called a choice for all his options were terrible ones.

"What choice?" Phil prompted.

Loki opened his eyes, catching the man's intense brown eyes. "The choice to tell my brother and thus escalating the Moment, the choice of denying my role and thus ensuring the death of the worlds, the choice of taking up the mantle as a villain, never letting anyone know, killing hundreds thousands and maybe millions as he did and thus ensuring the survival of the worlds, therefore saving the worlds and all their inhabitants."

"That would mean-" he frowned at the trickster god. His brown eyes searched his form as though to assess his honesty. A futile attempt for if he was really trying to lie, the mortal's abilities would be nothing compared to his lying abilities, but Loki was not lying. There was only the terrible truth in his words.

"Millions of Trillions of lives saved," Loki answered his incomplete statement. The number of people exchanged for the meager amount. But they were lives too. He did not want to think of people's lives as numbers. He would not if he had the choice, but he didn't.

There was an understanding look from the mortal man. He knew Phil would understand. "Yggdrasil chose her champions. The plan was to incite Midgard into creating defensive devices."

Vision. Ultron.

Phil looked at him, catching his unspoken references quickly. "And that'd stop it?" he asked in disbelief.

Shaking his head, Loki stared at the ground. "Midgard would be the forerunner for the defenses. Out there in the realms, there are other.. " He trailed off. The war in Vanaheim was still too fresh. All the fustian killings he had to do. Innocent blood steeped in his hands. "They still do not have the required motivation. They require one more sacrifice." With Ultron gone, the Avengers had gone stagnant. A death he never wanted to do, not that any of the deaths were something he wanted to.

He heard the mortal's sharp intake. "You mean me," Coulson breathed, his words barely piercing the thick silence.

The terror of killing the counterpart of his best friend, the real Phil Coulson he became friends with, closed on him like vice. He didn't reply the mortal's statement. It was a statement and not a question. They sat in silence. Loki uncertain how to comfort the man, his hands digging into the wooden armrests. They sat in silence, the only sounds was the clapping of feet outside in the hallways, the soft tapping on the things the mortals called keyboards.

The silence grew. Soon he would have to leave. He glanced at the door, feeling the lines of exhaustion carved into his body. Soon he would have to kill Phil in front of the Avengers, soon the tango of his evasion and their pursuit would begin. Loki rested his head against his steepled hands. Soon his death would come. He wasn't afraid to die. He was afraid that after all the blood that was in his ledger and his own death would not be enough to save the worlds.

"Why are you telling me this? I don't understand." The mortal's voice that sawed through the silence was completely flat.

Oh, Loki knew he understood. Phil was far too clever to not. He understood the need to seek forgiveness where he could. In a path where no one would ever find out the sacrifices he had made to protect them-

"I forgive you." The man leaned on his table, across him. "If what you say is true, that is."

Then the mortal paused, inclining his head in his patented emotionless emotional face that Loki had learnt to read in the other timeline."So not to sound eager. When would this be?"

Loki cocked a wry smile. "When you see me once more and then an hour." He stood to leave, pressing his lips together thoughtfully. "You… can't-"

"Tell the Avengers?" Phil nodded. "I figured it."

Loki did not look back as he disappeared. He had far too many things to do, too many distasteful things. That was when he realized that by telling Phil he had done the worst thing possible - he found that timeline's Phil in this Phil.

He watched Midgard destroy itself in its Civil War. All the meaningless deaths. Odin had barred Thor from assisting but he could do not such thing to Loki. With the powers bestowed upon him by the Yggdrasil, he had the ability to shield himself from the eyes of Odin and anyone he did not wish to see him.

Loki watched through the great halls of his childhood. Memorizing each pillar and each door as he trailed a languid hand across them. He was the disgraced prince that received redemption in death. Soon, Odin would not think that of him. Soon, even his brother would look at him with disgust and horror.

"Goodbye Father," he whispered the words that he knew his father would never hear.

"Loki, Son of Yggdrasil," Heimdall's low bass voice pitched across the empty dome as Loki entered.

"Are you changing my name?" Loki smiled tiredly. No masks were ever needed in front of Heimdall. He was tired of Heimdall knew of his true path. Only Heimdall because he too was a champion of the Yggdrasil.

"Nay. Those that were chosen by Yggdrasil becomes her children." Heimdall gripped his forearm – a warrior's greeting. How long had it been since he received one. For the life of him, Loki could not remember. "You are the greatest one of hers. It is my greatest pleasure knowing you." Even if no one would know. He understood the subtext beneath the Gatekeeper's words.

Loki turned from him, fighting back the emotions that threatened to escape. The last look of his childhood home. The tall spiraling golden structures that soared into the air, the crisp air.

Only death and destruction for him now. The end of the ends. The end of his role of this tiresome game would soon arrive then he could only hope for the other Champions to carry his work. Champions that would receive the praise that he would never receive even in death. He was not jealous of them. The Tree of Life rewarded her Champions generously and he wanted was that his brother and those that his brother cherished would be happy.

"You have my gratitude." Loki nodded, letting the light of the Bifrost overcome his vision.

He walks on bleeding feet, alone. Always alone but never truly alone.

He caught Phil as he is in deep conversation with the man of Iron and man of Shield. Phil nodded at Loki and the two man turned towards him, eyes searching for what had caught Phil's attention. They did not see him because only he had only allowed Phil to see him. Distraught with knowledge of his impending death, Phil embraced the man of Iron and man of Shield. They gazed at him in concern, but Phil did not tell them of what is to come.

Did Phil decide to trust him and do the right thing?

Loki was perturbed by Phil's trusting nature when he had done nothing to gain it.

Loki stood before the Avengers again. Exactly an hour as he promised Phil. His staff is stained with Phil's blood - again. His brother is surprised at him being alive then horrified that he had killed Phil. He evaded their attacks with a condescending laugh, disabling the big green beast and sending the others to the ground. He watched them keenly as they struggled against his powers to rise up against him. They never had a chance against the Champion of Yggdrasil. They never would know that they had gone up against a Champion of Yggdrasil nor would they understand the implication to do so. His brother might have. Thor clenched his fists, even he unable to rise though he struggled vainly. No, Thor would not have believed that he was a Champion of Yggdrasil. They were after all, only things of legends from ages long ago.

Thor had always been silly and naïve. Always so trusting. He knew that Thor would welcome him with wide arms if he choose to turn away from the path that Yggdrasil had bid him to follow. He also knew the countless of deaths, trillions upon trillions should he give up.

"Brother!" Thor looked torn between being happy that he was alive or the fact that he had just killed a good friend.

"You were always such a naïve fool. Did you really think I would perish so easily?" Loki twisted his lips into an ugly sneer belying the gladness in his heart. His eyes darted across the Avengers, ignoring the anger in their eyes before landing on Phil that lay in a pool of blood, cold and dead.

"Still alive? It seems that you are not like ants but cockroaches," he snickered. "Did you like my show?" He clasped his hands behind his back.

"What show are you talking about, brother?"

"Don't be imbecilic, brother. It's unbecoming." He morphed his form into a well-known female.

"Maria Hill!" They gasped. He heard their rage interspersed with colourful words.

"Oh yes. Her form is rather pleasing."

"It was you! You who started the war," the man of Iron shouted.

Loki grinned. "With much pleasure too. Well I have things to do. Wars to start." He bowed before vanishing. The rage that seethed in their hearts would grow as they hunted him. The Man of Iron would create fiercer, smarter creatures. They would grow and grow and become the forerunners against the foretold Moment.

Then in his private spaces, Loki wept for the man, Phil Coulson. He was the man that became his very good friend during his temporarily stay in the alternate dimension. The helpless fury of his own fate enveloped him. Not allowing himself to fall into despair, Loki squared his shoulders, shuttered his tears and girded his wills.

It was time for his death.

Loki stepped out into the chaos he had created. The buildings were falling from the Kree and Skrull fighting. Out there, he could the little Quicksilver wannabe zipping through the foot soldiers, his soul brother, Billy fighting with only a half grasp of his own powers. Had he not been playing the villain, Loki was tempted to school the boy in the correct way to cast spells. Perhaps someone from Asgard would do it eventually.

Loki glanced at the sky, knowing with certainty that Heimdall was watching. He was entrusted with the fate of being a Villian to save them all, Heimdall was entrusted with the fate to watch Infinity and Eternity but never being able to save any.

Were there never any easy fates for the Champions of Yggdrasil? That was probably why they were only things of legends, Loki mused.

In the streets, the midgardian people were dying, bleeding as the boys tried to save as many as they could. Their scream resounded in his ears.

"LOKI!"

He shifted to the side, letting the energy blast pass him. The red and gold suit of armor stared down at him. His death was never going to be that. Not painless. Loki knew that from the day he stepped onto the path of thorns.

He felt the burn of the bullets from a flash of red hair, then an arrow in his stomach. Then the burn of electricity than ran through his body. He closed his eyes to the fate he had accepted eons ago.

He was dying to save the world and no one would ever know the truth. Loki laughed a mirthless laugh, fading. At least it would a good death. To be a hero by becoming a villian.

Live well, my brother.

He smiled knowing that the world would be safe with his death.

Like the wind and the dust,

Floating into the sky in a gust.

Leaving nothing behind,

But the sound of the wind.