It ends, as it did so many times before, with hope.

-PRESENT DAY-

Mobius sits patiently through his mandatory medical check-up, somewhat less patiently through an animated recap from his head architect on the progress of the Void hub, and much less patiently through the council meeting he was unfortunate enough to be cleared to attend just in time.

All necessary for him to be reinstated from medical leave with minimal red tape involved, but nowhere near as exciting or important as this will (hopefully) prove to be.

But after dodging half a dozen well-meaning council members and somehow eluding everyone else on-site, he finally walks into the satellite hub's Research & Advancements workroom, and is greeted cheerfully by the team of technological apprentices Ouroboros been instructing for the last week. They've been learning how to use the streamlined, sophisticated holographic interfaces they're planning on installing in the Observatory, carefully lifted from a doomed timeline late in the 3100s.

"Mobius!" O.B. pops up from behind the counter like a coiled spring. "Good to see you! How are you feeling?"

"Clean bill of health, can't complain." He takes another look around the room at the busily working agents, and then leans forward, elbows on the counter. "I'm raring to hear what you've got for me, but is there anything else I need to know about, before I get too focused?"

"Nope, not since we last spoke. Here, all the reports are on there for you to read later, including our progress with the living quarters and tracking down the variants that stabbed you." O.B. shoves a tablet across the counter and then disappears temporarily to retrieve a giant stack of paper printouts. They hit the counter with a loud thud, sending up a pouf of sawdust. "And here's the new readings from the Tree itself."

"Uh." Mobius stares at the pile, because he may be good at analysis, but even he doesn't want to go through all of that by himself. "Is there a condensed version?"

"Oh yeah," O.B. replies cheerfully, diving back behind the counter. "That's the complete report, branches and all. And this," he reappears and drops a much smaller, but still impressively thick, pile of paper on Mobius' tablet. "Is the good stuff."

"Great." He glances around. "Am I gonna bother you if I go through this here? It's pretty loud up top, they're installing the flooring in the corridors. And I only get one more trip between the hubs today."

"Not at all." O.B. looks up at him over the printout stack. "Are you sure you don't want the crew to prioritize your office next, though? It'd be quieter. And more comfortable. I tend to leave a lot of things lying around down here."

"No, I'm sure." He rubs the back of his neck. While it's not really unreasonable for the project manager of such a large-scale venture to have a private office, it still feels a little too self-important, and self-serving, to prioritize that. "'Sides, as often as the Council's gonna be monitoring these last stages, I'll probably be over there working most of the time."

"Okay, but if you change your mind, let me know."

"Will do." Behind them, something lets out an unearthly screech, and the interface the young architect has been messing with starts blinking a violent red. "Looks like you got plenty on your plate right now, anyway."

"You have no idea. But hey." A wide smile. "We're glad to have you back!"

Before Mobius can even reply to that exuberant declaration, O.B. has scooted around the desk and is taking the poor architect to task with equal parts gentleness and ruthless efficiency. It's a thing of beauty.

Mobius shoves a pile of tools to one side of the worktable across the room, turns the table lamp on, and settles in to annotate.

-SOME TIME LATER-

Something taps his shoulder, and he fairly jumps out of his skin.

"Whoa, there." O.B. backpedals a step, hands raised. "You didn't hear me the first two times."

"No, sorry – was too focused on this." He blinks a few times and rubs his eyes, only now realizing the workroom is quiet, and empty other than the two of them. "You clocking out now?"

"It's time, yeah. I have a bunch of Tempad repairs back at Central to work on. But you're welcome to stay, if you want. Or take the files home, I have a digital copy here."

"Huh." Mobius pauses for a second in curious consideration.

"What is it?"

"Do you think that could end up being a business model, someday?"

"What, taking work home? Every analyst I've ever met does that."

"I mean, taking them home outside of the TVA complex."

"Oh." O.B. frowns. "I mean…there's no reason it wouldn't work, if we put proper safeguards in place and define what's permitted to leave the premises. You mean people working here, but living off-site on a Branch? Instead of having residency on-site?"

"It could be an option. Maybe for agents who want to try a life on the timelines, but also want to be involved in the mission, long-term." Mobius shrugs, closing the folder he was organizing. "Just a thought. I doubt the Council is gonna want to hear any more radical new ideas from their problem child for a while, but it's something to think about. I don't think we've ever considered a part-time or on-call role for TVA agents, but we might need it, in the future. We're liable to burn people out, otherwise."

Not to mention, a multiversal war may well demand something like a military draft, if they don't have enough volunteers to keep the enemy at bay.

"Hm. I like it," O.B. declares. "I'll remind you to bring it up sometime. Once the hub here is finished, probably."

"Sure you don't want a promotion? You're doing more work around here than I am lately. This whole thing'd be dead in the water without you."

"Oh, no. No, I like where I am, and what I'm doing." O.B. beams cheerfully. "And I like being part of a team. Not being the boss of one."

"Well. If that ever changes, let me know."

O.B. grins and gathers up his toolkit. "Turn the lights off when you leave?" he asks over his shoulder, as a Door opens in front of him.

"Mmhm," Mobius makes a shooing motion with one hand, already engrossed in the next file. "Night."

-FOUR HOURS LATER-

Mobius' Tempad chirps at his elbow, which jerks him abruptly out of his impromptu study session. For a second he just blinks at it in befuddlement, before his half-asleep brain realizes it's an audio comm.

"Agent Mobius, we have a situation," the perimeter guard currently going by designation X-23 informs him.

"What kind of situation?" he asks, gathering up his folders and, after a second thought, leaving them on the table. O.B. will make sure nobody touches them, and it's too much to carry around the complex.

"One of the variants has found the hub, sir."

Shit. "Which one?"

"Uh," X-23 says, clearly clueless. "I don't really know names, sir, unless they're all called Loki. But according to Ouroboros' tracking program, it's one of three possible child variants we're tracking?"

"O.B., you might just get promoted whether you like it or not," Mobius mutters, as he jogs up the remaining steps and exits into the main Atrium. "Copy that, X-23. Which side of the complex?"

"South side, sir. Well, I assume we're calling it south, since that's how it's mapped? The side closest to the cloud-monster thing."

"Is the kid making any kind of threatening moves?"

"No, sir. Just standing there, looking. It's a little eerie, though."

"Yeah, I can see why it would be. The perimeter defenses are probably pinging his magic radar somehow. We aren't visible, but he can maybe tell something's not right in the space."

"Makes sense, sir." X-23's voice becomes abruptly louder as Mobius rounds the corner into the unfinished south side atrium, a smaller foyer-like room from which spoke corridors lead to the as-yet partially finished living quarters and various offices, still in the framing stages.

The front of the south atrium is glassed-in, offering a 180-degree vantage point originally designed to keep track of Alioth in case it wanders too far this direction. Now, the open design offers a clean, unobstructed view of the wind-swept Void, including the solitary figure standing several meters beyond the protective dome, arms crossed and staring straight at them. The child's head is tilted slightly as if trying to solve a puzzle, and he has no visible weapons; but Mobius knows that means nothing.

However, a moment later, when he joins X-23 at the window, he gets his first good look at the kid, and his heart sinks.

What are the odds of that?

"Agent? Do you need me to take action here?" the young minuteman says, clearly interpreting Mobius' reaction as something not being quite right.

"No, no. You did good, X-23." Mobius sighs, and pulls his Tempad from his jacket pocket. HWR's temporal device he leaves in the jacket, and takes it off, handing it to the minuteman. "Hold onto that for me, please, and let me borrow that stun stick, just in case. You can keep an eye on me from here."

"Sir. I was told not to let you meet with a variant by yourself."

"I know," Mobius reassures him. "But I also don't want him, or anyone watching him, knowing we have a whole crew here, which will be kinda obvious if I bring a bodyguard out of nowhere into the Void. He already knows I'm setting up shop here, but so far, he doesn't know the scale of it. We need to keep it that way, if possible."

"But –"

"You can be there in two seconds if something goes wrong, and he's just a kid. Watch me from here, okay?"

"Yes, sir." X-23 looks hesitant, but finally hands over the handheld stun stick. "Be careful, sir."

"Understood." He claps the minuteman on the shoulder, and then opens a Time Door, walking through it with purpose.

To his credit, the child barely flinches when the door opens a few meters away and Mobius appears through it. This particular mini-Loki stands proud and haughty, some 9 or 10 years of age in physical appearance but likely far older mentally, given how time passes more slowly here. The outfit is interesting; primarily black, instead of green, with a flash of red at the lining. Perhaps in memory of a fallen brother, perhaps just to stand out among other variants?

"Hello again," Mobius says, letting the door close behind him. He pockets the Tempad.

The child's wary eyes dart immediately to the stun stick, held in his left hand. Mobius makes a slow show of putting it down on a nearby rock, and lifting both hands to show they're empty.

"Just a precaution," he adds, when the deathly silence grows too painful. "And it doesn't destroy anything. Just zaps you with a little stun. It's a self-defense tool, not a weapon. Not anymore."

"Why would I believe you."

"Good question." He sighs, and puts his hands in his pockets. "Honestly, if I were you, I wouldn't."

The child's eyes are wide and wild. "I remember you," he says, and the contempt fairly drips from the emphasized word.

"I know," Mobius says quietly. "I remember you, too."

In retrospect, that had been the beginning of the end, for him, even if it was centuries before he actually realized it. That horrifying feeling of guilt never truly left; it only shifted forms, as his naivety toward the system grew and morphed into a twisted sort of unquestioning loyalty to the cause.

Now, it just feels like a weight that'll never be lifted, and it's a burden he must bear, alone.

"You refused to kill me," the child then states without sugar-coating anything. His eyes narrow in close scrutiny. "Your female partner did so, instead. Why?"

"Why did she prune you, or why did I hesitate?"

"I know the former," the child snaps, with enough fierce scorn that Mobius resists the urge to take a step backward. "I have already had this conversation with her, some weeks ago."

Okay, that's definitely information they need. But Mobius is smart enough to play a long game, here; he's not going to show his hand by asking after Renslayer's current whereabouts of past conversations. Not just yet. Confirmation that she's still alive, and apparently communing with variants, is enough for now.

"So you want to know why I didn't? Couldn't?" he asks, just to clarify.

"She said it was because you did not have the fortitude to do what was needed for the Cause." The child looks frighteningly dissociated for such a serious conversation. "That you could not see the bigger picture, that you did not have the potential to become a leader. And she did."

"Well. She wasn't completely wrong," Mobius admits. "But that wasn't the real reason I hesitated."

"What, then?"

"I didn't want to," he says quietly. "That's the reason. I've never been able to stomach hurting a child."

"Your agency has never had issue with this. Variants of myself and others like me appearing in this barren place were a near-daily occurrence, at one time. Child or otherwise."

"I know. And Ravonna knew it was a weak spot, for me. I failed that test miserably, and got put on desk duty soon afterwards." He shrugs, hands still in his pockets. "I'm not gonna give you any excuses, though, kid. We did some horrible things, and there's as much blood on my hands as anyone else's. Just because my intentions were comparably better than the organization's, doesn't change the facts."

"Which are?"

"That I'm just as guilty as the rest of the TVA. There's no absolution for us. No comfort to be had, in knowing some of us had good intentions. It certainly doesn't make things any better for you, does it."

The child looks at him for a moment, with eyes that are centuries too old for that face. "And what are your intentions now?"

"To do whatever I can to make amends, if that's even possible. And to overturn the agency's original mission, which I think you already know," he replies, readily enough. The child seems to be surprised by this. "What, you were expecting a dozen ulterior motives and intricate plots? I'm not one of you, I'm just a regular old Midgardian."

"You are either incredibly naive, or incredibly devious," the child replies, frowning. "And given the fact you are speaking with me alone, when mere weeks ago you lay dying on this very ground at the hands of a variant, I would be inclined to believe the former."

"Well. Naive doesn't mean stupid," he points out mildly. "And I prefer the word clever, rather than devious."

"What are you hiding?"

"What do you mean."

"Not metaphorically," the child says impatiently. "Here. What are you hiding here." He waves a hand wreathed in green sparks, and the space in front of them, the very air, shivers slightly. "This is a powerful magical shield, with defensive sigils I have not seen before."

"It is," Mobius agrees, cautious.

"And you are personally protected by one of us, who has apparently amassed power beyond even Asgardian comprehension," the child states with a shrewd look. "Who are you, a mere human, to so command a god? So mortal, so…ordinary." The word is almost spit with disdain.

Mobius suspects D-23 is laughing his head off unseen, ten feet away.

"Well, first off, I know better than to try to command a Loki," he replies, grinning. "Influence, maneuver, and manipulate, oh yes. But not command. It never goes well."

The child cracks the first tiny semblance of a smile, before reverting to the previous impassive expression.

"As to what I'm hiding, well. Would you like to see?"

The child's eyebrows incline in a gesture of haughty disbelief. "You truly are a fool. To so invite the enemy within your borders?"

"I didn't say you could see it right now," Mobius replies calmly. "Just gauging interest, that's all."

Curious, the child scrutinizes him with far more care. "What would you require in return."

"For now? Just a truce." He shrugs, when the incredulous look intensifies. "I have bigger problems than a bunch of Lokis, kid. Much, much bigger."

"Something terrible is coming," the child intones, looking old and solemn.

"It is." Mobius agrees, in an equally solemn tone. "And it's going to destroy all of us. Not just here in this place, but in every time and even outside of it. Every timeline, every place not on a timeline – it all ends sometime soon. Unless we stop it."

"You would cast your lot in with those you hunted, in times past?"

"I could be persuaded to do so. Provided they keep their daggers to themselves," he adds dryly, and is rewarded with a sudden snort of childish laughter.

"You are a very strange Midgardian."

"Coming from you, that's a compliment I will proudly accept." Mobius smiles, and keeps his posture relaxed. "Any more questions at this time, your majesty?"

The child looks down his nose, clearly judging whether the title is mocking or not, and finally seems to be satisfied. "Not at this time, no," he replies.

"Well. You know where to find me, so to speak." Mobius bends down slowly, keeping his hands in plain sight, and picks up the stun stick, then retrieves his Tempad. "I'll see you again sometime?"

"Perhaps you will," the child muses, almost to himself, as Mobius nods and goes back through the Door.

X-23's clearly been pacing nervously while he was out there, and looks unabashedly relieved when Mobius is safely back within the atrium.

"Thanks for looking out," Mobius says, shrugging his jacket back on and handing over the stun baton. "Keep an eye on him, yeah? He's not gonna hurt anything, I don't think. But I want to know if he tries to get through the safeguards. And make a note in the file, please – if he shows up again, I'm to be called immediately, even if I'm in a council meeting or off-site."

"Understood." The minuteman clears his throat. "You really believe we can make allies of them, sir?"

"I think it's possible. If we get to them before Renslayer does, or make them a better offer than she can. Lokis are remarkably good at adapting to whichever side has the strongest show of power." Mobius sighs. "And honestly? We're probably going to need all the help we can get, when the war comes. I don't think we'll be in a position to be picky."

It's also possible, though not probable, that Ravonna will get herself killed through overconfidence, because she's never really understood what makes a Loki tick like Mobius does. Mobius isn't quite sure how he feels about that idea. They were friends, once upon a time, and worked together for far longer than his new alliances have been forming. She wasn't wrong, when she said she spent too much time cleaning up Mobius' messes, throughout the decades.

He just had no idea those messes were actually his conscience struggling to do the Right Thing, and that she'd been crushing that inclination out of him all along.

Was their friendship even real?

At this point, does it even matter?

-FOUR WEEKS LATER-

"So you're saying it's possible."

"Technically, yes."

"So we can do it."

"Technically, yes."

"…And practically?"

"Practically, no!" O.B. gestures vaguely at HWR's temporal device, sitting harmlessly inert on the table between them. "You're talking about combining an already unknown and probably unstable power source – which you've yet to demonstrate you have complete control of – with the contained power of an Infinity Stone, Mobius. I've been all for most of your ideas, but this one? This is too dangerous."

"It's just a thought experiment right now." Mobius sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The stone doesn't even work inside the TVA. We're safe unless we're on a branch, okay."

"I thought the Stones didn't have any power on timeline branches, other than the one they were confiscated from?" Casey asks, poking curiously at the temporal device. It hums for a moment and then zaps a green spark at him, whereupon he jerks his hand back.

"Nah, they work fine in other branches," Mobius answers, distracted by the readings on his tablet. "They just aren't quite as powerful until combined, in another branch, and they can't be destroyed except with a weapon created in their own branch."

"Wait, really?"

"Well, yeah. The Avengers used alt-branch stones to reverse the Snap in the Sacred Timeline, and I honestly can't tell you how many times we've tracked an alt-branch Time Stone across the universes, for some reason Stephen Strange just cannot stay put in his own timeline. Anyhow - they're not full-power, but they've still got more than enough juice to do some heavy damage, particularly in combination."

"Holy shit. That's not in the guidebook." Casey's eyes are huge. "Seriously, a bunch of the analysts use 'em for paperweights."

"It's not in the guidebook because I didn't think it was necessary, I thought that was common sense! They're supposed to get pruned or locked down in the vaults immediately, just like any other dangerous artifact!"

Mobius shuts the folder with a decisive snap. "Okay, immediate problem first: We need to deal with that – make a note please, Casey?"

"Already on it, I'll have someone round up any that are floating around upstairs," he replies, typing busily into the computer. "They're all tagged and logged, so we at least know how many we're looking for. They'll be locked down by tomorrow morning, Mobius."

"Good. Paperweight problem aside, it's not an unreasonable idea. The Loom was the primary power source for the TVA, and it's now a freestanding Tree at the end of Time," Mobius says, gesturing vaguely toward the closest outer wall. "We have no active power source for the TVA complex, right now."

"There's a self-sustaining backup system, Mobius. I built it myself."

"And it's fantastic. Plenty of generators and energy converters, yeah. But there's gonna come a point where the residual temporal energy out there from the Big Loom Bang has been fully harvested, and without new energy being generated from something, we won't be able to keep the lights on! Why have we waited so long to worry about this?"

"Because I judged we had about five years before it became a problem, and I'm working the problem already," O.B. says patiently. "And my solution does not involve harnessing the power of an Infinity Stone to generate temporal energy!"

"I'm not saying we need to harness it, necessarily. I agree that's incredibly dangerous. But the Loom turned entropy back into matter and energy, right? Theoretically, a Stone could be configured to do that. It's only a matter of setting parameters for energy conversion, and implementing proper containment fields. I'm just asking if the process is possible."

"Not in the TVA, for sure," Casey interjects.

"Correct," O.B. replies crisply. "A Stone wouldn't work here, so it'd have to be done in the satellite hub or one of the branches and then siphoned back somehow to TVA Central, which is just out of the question. Do you really think taking a power source like that to the Void is a good idea? If the hub there is ever invaded, we'd be leaving a weapon of mass destruction just lying around for anyone to pick up."

"No, of course not. And I'm not even sure it'd work in the Void hub anyway, since it still has a partial magic-dampening field," Mobius replies. He shuffles his files into a neater stack, and then rearranges them again, this time alphabetically. "But…just between us, I wasn't thinking about using it in the TVA, really."

O.B. pushes his glasses up and squints at him, immediately suspicious of the calm tone. "Why do I feel like the Council is going to suspend you when this is all said and done?"

Mobius clears his throat sheepishly. Casey thunks his head against the desk.

O.B. glances at the retro, hard-shell briefcase Mobius has brought back from the beach house with him this time, and closes his eyes. "Please tell me that's empty."

"I mean. You can just imagine it is, if it's easier." Mobius shrugs. "Schrödinger's Tesseract?"

"This is so far above my pay grade," Casey says mournfully, and locks the workroom door.

-THREE MONTHS LATER-

"I need to tell you something, Judge Willis, and you gotta promise not to get mad," Mobius says, poking his head into the modest office.

"Did that line ever work on Renslayer?" B-15 asks, amused, and gestures for him to enter. "Because I'm not her, Mobius."

"No, you're much more easy-going than she was." He settles on the edge of the small sofa, and shrugs. "And you'd at least shed a tear if you decided to prune me."

"Am I going to want to, when I find out why you're here?"

"Probably."

"Wonderful."

"Congrats on the promotion, by the way, I haven't seen you yet since it was announced."

"Stop stalling and 'fess up, Mobius."

"Fine." He tosses a file marked CONFIDENTIAL on the coffee table, and she gets up from the desk to come around and look at it. "You might want a drink before you read that."

She picks up the file, opens it, scans it quickly, and then closes her eyes, visibly counting to ten.

"I told you." Mobius rubs the back of his neck. "So how much trouble am I in, exactly?"

-0-

"A month's not bad!" O.B. glances up from his tinkering with a wide grin. "I was expecting a lot worse."

"A month sitting on my ass doing nothing, I'm not even allowed to take files with me."

"I mean, in the old days you'd've been pruned before you even left her office for something like this," Casey points out helpfully. "Suspension's pretty lenient. For stealing the Space Stone and field testing its containment device on a timeline branch, unsanctioned?"

"Fair point." Mobius grumbles. "I dunno what got into me."

O.B. pauses suddenly, and drops the screwdriver to scrutinize Mobius closely.

"What?"

"The Tesseract. It wasn't…talking to you, or anything, was it?"

Mobius' forehead wrinkles slightly. "No? Is that a thing to watch for?"

"It's been reported as an effect of repeated exposure, though it's usually seen in connection with the Mind Stone, not the rest of them. But it happens often enough that you should be careful."

"Well yeah, you can't just hold one in your hand and expect to not be affected by it. But that's the whole point of the Cube containment, O.B. It's not like I just walked into a timeline branch and decided to play hackysack with a radioactive glowing rock that can open literal wormholes. I'm not a complete idiot."

O.B. raises his hands briefly in a gesture of surrender. "Just checking. We don't know much about how they work, really."

"It sat on my shelf for eight weeks, with zero radiation fallout, zero decrease in power levels within the containment field, zero weaknesses developing in the containment field, zero incursions, zero magical flare-ups, zero wormholes, and zero voices in my head vying for world domination. Happy?"

"Happier than you're going to be for the next thirty days," O.B. replies, grinning suddenly at the space over Mobius' shoulder. "For the record, I did warn you."

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in." Mobius turns around, and meets B-15's stern look squarely. "I'm going, okay."

"I have to confiscate your Tempad before you leave, Mobius," she says, not unkindly. "You know the regulations. It's not personal."

"Yup." He holds out the Tempad and HWR's version of it, one in each hand. "I know the drill."

"I have to confiscate your Tempad," she then repeats, much slower, and with more emphasis.

"…I know?"

"You're hopeless," she finally mutters, snatching the Tempad from him and starting to input coordinates. "Put that thing back in your pocket or I have to take it, too."

"Oh. Oh!" He shoves the temporal device into his inner jacket pocket, and grins. "Well –"

"Don't even think about it," she warns, as a Time Door opens. "Go home, Mobius. I'll send someone to get you in a month. We'll talk about your ridiculous defensive weaponry plans then, and only then."

"Understood. See you boys later, yeah?"

O.B. and Casey wave at him cheerfully as he disappears into the Door, which closes after him.

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous, leaving him down there with no contact for a month?" Casey asks, after a short pause.

B-15 snorts, and pockets the Tempad as she turns to leave. "I'm pretty sure he has an omniscient personal bodyguard at this point, Casey. He's probably the safest human on the timeline. All the timelines."

"True."

"I mean it, though – if I catch either of you contacting him, or working on this ridiculous project of his? Either of those projects? There's only so many times I can look the other way."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Understood," O.B. says, not even looking up from his tinkering.

B-15 disappears under the archway a moment later.

O.B. pokes at the circuit board with a tiny screwdriver, and then glances up again over his glasses. "I mean. She wouldn't catch us, or have to look the other way, if we just work from the satellite hub from now on."

"See, this is why you're the resident genius," Casey replies, grinning.

-SIX HOURS LATER-

The sun is setting, a glowing ball of scarlet bobbing on the horizon line.

It'll be a beautiful day tomorrow, Mobius has learned that much during his time down here. There's an old sailing proverb about it, even; something about a red sky at night.

Wispy clouds dot the darkening sky, reflecting various shades of burnished gold and magenta, and the wind brings with it the tang of salt and brine. A crescent moon hangs low at the other end of the sky, awaiting its turn in the heavens. The whirring of insects has gradually increased in volume as the day winds down, and their thrumming vibrations are now louder than the sound of the surf.

Sitting in one of the comfy deck chairs, he senses more than sees the change in the air, and a moment later, turns his head.

"Evening," he says quietly.

"Good evening."

It's an illusion, he can tell that right away; but it's a much more solid one than he's seen previously, which is a good sign.

"This is an unscheduled branch visit," Loki's apparition observes, after a moment.

"It is, yeah."

"Are you…all right?"

"I'm fine, yeah." Eyeing the illusion for a second, he finally shrugs, and gestures to the second chair. It's stood here, all these years, and never actually been used. "Glad to have company, if you can manage it."

"The illusion projection is easier now, though I have yet to try an actual duplication cast again," Loki murmurs. The cape and helmet disappear in a flicker of green, and the illusion finally seats itself. For just a moment, Mobius could imagine there's nothing wrong with the picture, that it's just a normal evening, two ordinary people just watching the sun set.

But it isn't.

"Really took it out of you, that last casting, huh."

"Indeed." Loki stares out at the horizon, looking almost lost in thought. "I believe I slept, if it can be called that, for many decades following the incident. Possibly longer. It's difficult to tell for certain, anymore."

"Mm." He rocks the chair slightly, watches a seagull swoop by on graceful wings. "I didn't get a chance to say thank you, yet, for that."

"You may properly convey your gratitude by never allowing such a thing to happen again," Loki says dryly. "Honestly, a dagger in the back? And you the expert on the subject."

"Yeah, I know, it wasn't my best moment." He sighs, lets the chair rock again. "Lesson learned the hard way. Guess I got a little too self-confident. Thought maybe I was invincible, just a bit."

A few moments of peaceful silence, and then Loki speaks again, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Are you quite certain you're all right?"

He smiles out at the horizon line. "I'm fine, I promise."

"Why, then, this unscheduled visit to the timeline?"

"I've been temporarily suspended from the TVA."

"What?" There is genuine amazement in the tone. "Whatever for?"

He folds his arms and leans back as the breeze kicks up. "Little bit of mischief. I borrowed something I didn't have clearance for from Confiscated Artifacts."

A brief laugh, as if its owner is incredibly unused to such expressions of late. Loki's side-eye is fairly dancing with amusement. "What could possibly have been so important that they would suspend one of their best senior agents for simply borrowing it?"

"You don't need to worry about it," he replies lightly. "It's fine, like I said."

Loki's amusement fades with startling abruptness. "Mobius. Have you done something foolish?"

"I mean, that depends on which definition of foolish you're using –"

"What. Did you do."

"Nothing! I borrowed something from the archives, that's all. No big deal."

"Clearly it was."

"Clearly it wasn't, because all I got was a suspension and a reprimand. Believe you me, it would've been a different story in the old days."

"You need not tell me that," Loki retorts. "I was present when you were pruned the first time, remember?"

"Yeah, well, things are different now, so relax." He shrugs, and goes back to gently rocking the chair again. "Honestly, I think I got off easy, all things considered. I've pushed the envelope an awful lot the last few years. This is just the last proverbial straw."

"Mobius. What did you do."

He sighs, gesturing vaguely back at the house. "I borrowed a Tesseract from Confiscated Artifacts and kept it here for a couple of months."

"You did what?"

"It was perfectly safe. It was a routine monitoring and observation experiment in a controlled environment, and I had everything documented, backup plans created, all of it under complete control. I even made a full disclosure of it afterwards, knowing there would be consequences. I'm not stupid, Loki!"

"I am well aware of that!" Loki snaps back. "Frankly, I'd be far less concerned with the entire affair if you were an imbecile!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ignorance would at least offer sufficient excuse for your actions. This is just pure recklessness."

"Well, I'm not looking to make sufficient excuse," Mobius points out. "I knew exactly what I was doing."

"Why would you do such a thing."

Mobius sighs, and leans back in the chair. "Because the more we learn about these variants of He Who Remains, the more obvious it becomes that we're outmatched, outsmarted, and outgunned. No matter when the war hits us, the TVA isn't going to come out on top, if things don't change."

"Is that the reason, or merely the reason you put in your files?" Loki asks pointedly.

"It's a reason."

"Meaning what."

"You're not stupid either, Loki. What do you think?"

For a few minutes, there is only the sound of the wind, the insects, and the sea.

"Mobius…" Loki hesitates. "We have had this discussion. More than once, now."

"We have," he replies, tone calm and even. "And we continue to disagree. What's your point."

"You cannot come to where I am. I am unsure if it is even physically possible, for a mortal to exist here. I do not even know where I am precisely, in relation to time and space and all which exists outside of them. And it is far too dangerous to make experimental attempts."

"Well, you can't stop me from trying," he snaps back, with unusual heat. "Don't ask me to stop, Loki. I can't, and I won't."

"You must. You have no idea what one of the Stones could and will, if given the opportunity, do to you." Loki's pale features are almost translucent, standing out in stark contrast to the night's shadows. "This sinister influence, I have first-hand knowledge of."

"I know you do."

"But you believe yourself, a mere human, to be the exception." A wry, almost bitter shake of the head. "I never took you for an arrogant man, Mobius."

"It's not arrogance, it's foresight, analysis, and precise planning," he replies calmly. "That's what I specialize in, it's what I'm good at. And I've been good at it for as long as I can remember, long before you ever came along in the TVA. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?"

"Yes! Nothing's going to happen, Loki."

"Your unusual over-confidence would indicate it might have already done so."

He looks over at the translucent figure, frowning. "You lost me there. I promise you, everything's well in hand."

"Tell me this then." Loki looks up at him, eyes burning with intensity. "Have you or have you not, at some recent time, had the fleeting thought, 'this would all be so much easier, if I just had more power.'"

He stares at the illusion in consternation.

"I thought as much. That is how it starts." Loki's voice is dark with the ghosts of unpleasant Memory. "The influence of the stones is insidious, and impossible to detect from within whilst one is in proximity. They yearn to be joined with another, and their power exponentially increases when those connections are forged. But it begins with only a thought. And it has already started, with you."

"I think you're overreacting, and maybe projecting. Just a little."

"Projecting? Of course I am projecting! You think I do not understand the appeal of such limitless power? I hold the very fabric of time itself, the lives of every creature who ever has existed or will exist, in my hands. Knowing that at any moment, I could simply let go, simply stop holding these branches, and thus control who lives and who dies. I understand better than most would, how difficult it is to resist the siren call of such power."

"I'm not after power, Loki. It's a means to an end, nothing more."

"Power is always a means to an end."

"You know what I meant."

"I do. But such power is no less terrifying in the hands of a good man."

He sighs, and looks out at the horizon, where the sun has nearly set. "It' s been a long time, Loki. You've got no idea what kinda man I am now, really."

"I know that among all the thousands of timelines I hold in my hands, there is not one variant of you that is not, at heart, a genuinely good person." Loki's eyes reflect the sea, as he leans forward in a rare expression of earnestness. "So please, Mobius. Do not continue down this dangerous path. Stop trying to mend what is not actually broken."

"Don't ask me to stop," he whispers. "You don't get to ask me that, not now. Not after all this time." Not when we're so close.

"I am not asking you to stop. But if utilizing this kind of power is the only option left to you?" The words are almost inaudible above the crash of the surf, the hum of insects. "I am asking you to do the right thing, the hard thing, and let me go."

The silence, then, a sharp and painful thing, is broken only by the soft susurration of the sea.

When Mobius turns to continue the discussion, the chair stands empty.

Small point of note:

1. Any plot points/dialogue inspiration you recognize from the series is intentional and does not belong to me.

2. I did extensive research while writing these stories, and the theory that the Infinity Stones don't work outside their own timelines is actually not confirmed in the Loki series (and in fact is disproven at least in Endgame and in What If; the stones are clearly seen working across branched timelines or alt universes). It's only confirmed that they don't work inside the TVA, according to Loki screen canon.

So please don't come after me with additional theories or arguments to the contrary, as this is the theory I've chosen to adapt here, primarily because I think it's criminal we never even got a hint of Mobius' Marvel identity as Mr. Tesseract. It's just fiction, and one interpretation of it.

Thank you for reading and/or commenting, I do still read every one. X