Work Text:
“Well, how quaint.”
Loki sniffs and bites back a sneer at the tiny cell. He almost wants to be grateful, Mobius has managed to secure him one with a supposedly comfier bed due to a newer mattress and with a bit more square footage. It’s still laughably small and not fit for a prince.
But, well, he isn’t a prince anymore, is he? At least as he is, this supposed ‘variant’ self. Nobody who is manhandled and thoroughly humiliated and broken down so completely as he has been is worthy of that title… if he ever even was to begin with.
“Yeah, it’s not glamorous, but it’ll have to do. I tried to push for you to stay in an apartment with or near me, but no dice,” Mobius shrugs.
“You pushed for me to be able to stay with you? Why? You don’t strike me as stupid, Mobius, what would convince you that was a good idea?”
Mobius snorts and shakes his head in a sort of amusement. “I don’t think I’m particularly stupid either, but I’m not sure what that has to do with anything. If you think I should worry about you betraying me, I’m not.”
Loki narrows his eyes, feeling somehow like he’s being challenged. “And why exactly not? You’re this supposed Loki expert, right?”
“I am,” Mobius confirms. “But I figured the exhaustion would buy me some time, and beyond that I figured you’d plan something more intricate to take out someone like me who works for a place you hate so much. A simple stabbing wouldn’t do. And I figured by the time you’d start enacting a longer plan I would have figured out what you were doing so I could avoid it.”
Loki does wrinkle his nose in a sneer this time, crossing his arms a bit tighter. “Excuse me? You think you can best me? For an expert on the god of mischief, you underestimate me.”
“Nah. You’re incredibly clever, Loki. Brilliant, even— that’s one of my favorite things about you. But I’ve been at this a long time, I’m pretty clever where it counts too.”
Loki is looking at Mobius with a sort of raw bewilderment. Loki has never met someone like him before, neither afraid of him nor purely reverent despite the kind (and seemingly genuine) compliments, nor overly cruel to him. Mobius is teetering on some line between omnipotence and overwhelming averageness, and yet he is remarkable regardless. Mobius had managed to read him and crack open every shell Loki has built around himself. He could blame that on the horrifying enormity of the TVA but he thinks without Mobius' mix of aggressive hounding and gentle curiosity he would have never admitted those fragile ideas that he’s kept hidden for so long, would have never allowed anyone else to know that he doesn’t enjoy hurting people and that deep down he feels like an exposed, horrified child with no one to reach for, the picture of weakness.
So, he hasn’t figured out where he stands with Mobius yet. He isn’t a friend, really, but yet he is also a force of relative calm and amiability in the face of Loki’s world imploding.
Loki stifles a cough and looks away. “Right,” he returns his gaze to Mobius’, forcing a look of attempted calm. “I’m sure we’ll see.”
Loki would usually feel much more threatening when saying something so bold, but he’s so worn down and exhausted he isn’t even surprised that Mobius doesn’t step back or furrow his brows in concern.
Instead, Mobius just claps his hands with a sort of finality. He doesn’t comment on the way Loki flinches slightly at the sound, but he drops his hands fairly quickly. “So, can I get you anything before bed?”
Loki sighs with only a hint of petulance. “Well, you can’t get me out of here, so I don’t believe so.”
Mobius just smiles softly. “No, unfortunately for you that one is off the table,” Mobius shrugs. “No extra blankets or anything?”
Loki starts to shake his head again, but pauses. He does have one thing… but he hesitates to ask. It’ll just draw suspicion and highlight yet another weakness. On the other hand, though, Mobius (and gods knows who else in this horrid place) has seen every moment of his life, he already is likely to know every gritty detail. And besides that, Loki isn’t sure he can feel any more pathetic. What’s one more nail in his coffin?
“Do you have something that makes noise?”
Mobius does furrow his brows in confusion now. “Something that makes noise?”
Loki sucks in a breath and feels the heat growing on his face, a mix of annoyance and shame. “Yes. You know, Midgardians have white noise machines, many places have audiobooks, a music player, something.”
Mobius hums and glances away in thought. “Unfortunately I’m not so sure we do. Nothing in our recent evidence collection fits that, and I don’t have anything in my cubicle… what do you need it for?”
Loki grimaces, his stomach turning. “To sleep.”
“Well, yeah, I sort of figured that. Either to sleep or to force yourself to stay awake, both options of which would make me wonder,” Mobius folds his arms, not looking threatening despite his steady pose. “I guess I’m wondering what happens if you don’t have it?”
Loki’s eyes flash with a spark of panic. He feels himself being dug deeper and deeper into a hole he’s not sure he can get out of.
“It means I likely won’t sleep. And after enough of that my mental capacity to help you catch this variant will be lowered, and my irritability and anger will be up. The first will be unpleasant for me and the latter for you.”
Loki steps back unconsciously as Mobius’ gaze assesses him. There is nothing overtly hostile about Mobius’ eyes but Loki feels like he’s being scrutinized nonetheless.
“May I ask why you won’t be able to sleep?”
Loki feels himself tensing with a shiver. “I…” he feels his breath catching in his throat.
Mobius softens. “Look, Loki, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. But the more I know, the better I can help. And despite it bringing me no gain to know the details and therefore probably feeling to you like it’s wildly unbelievable that it’s true, I actually do want to help.”
Once again, Mobius reads him like Loki is ripping out pages, shoving them into his hands, and narrating them. It’s new, it’s unnerving. It’s oddly not as horrifying as it was before.
“It hasn’t been quiet for me in… years. Which isn’t all that long for me, in the grand scheme of it all, but I…” Loki swallows, his voice feeling thick and heavy. “Torture tends to drag the time out.”
Mobius, usually fairly in control of his emotions minus the occasional softening of his eyes, grows a look of deeply distraught understanding. He is likely seeing the flashes of the reels he’s poured over, seeing every lash or magically induced slice against Loki’s skin, every whimpered noise of fear and bargaining and the eventual silence when Loki realized that was the only way to survive. Mobius couldn’t have heard the whispers in Loki’s brain, but he would know of the nights in which Loki woke up in a cold sweat, a raw agony in his eyes that couldn’t be forgotten.
“Oh, Loki.”
“I haven’t slept in silence since before I… fell from the rainbow bridge. Once they had me in the Sanctuary… even when they left me alone, the mind stone was always whispering, always guiding me or torturing me. Whenever I managed to sleep I was still falling asleep to the sound of it,” Loki whispers, his voice hoarse and low. “I didn’t realize how much I had grown used to it until earlier today when you found me in the time theater again. When I was utterly wrung out, there was nothing but my own consciousness to torment me.”
Mobius holds his gaze with Loki’s, even as Loki’s eyes dart around, wanting to look anywhere else. When they finally settle and meet Mobius’, it doesn’t even take Mobius’ expertise to see the mix of pure exhaustion and an utter fear of rejection pooling within them. Mobius notices how they have slowly grown more rich and green as the mind stone has lost its power over him, simultaneously lowering the sharp blue glow that had been within them.
“Thank you for telling me,” Mobius says. It looks like he wants to say more but holds back. “I don’t have anything to leave with you to make noise, but if you’re okay with it, I can stay and talk to you. You can talk back if you’d like or I can just ramble.”
Loki’s brows shoot up against his will. His lips part, then close again.
“Doesn’t have to be anything deep. In fact, maybe better if it isn’t. We can just chat about whatever you’d like, until you can get comfortable and hopefully get some rest.”
Loki feels like he’s been stunned into place. He’s got a thousand thoughts racing through his brain all of a sudden. Only one comes out, though it’s one he wishes wouldn’t for the sake of what little dignity he may have left.
“You’d do that?”
Loki’s voice is impossibly small and it makes Loki cringe and Mobius melt a little.
“Of course,” Mobius smiles like he isn’t laying down pieces of himself in front of Loki. “Lay down, get cozy. I’ll grab the chair.”
Loki, despite it all, just follows his directions and lays on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It’s entirely bland like the rest of this place, light brown and sleek. There’s not even any stucco or other texture to search for patterns or shapes in.
Mobius pulls up the single chair from the corner of the room, and Loki feels his heart hammering inexplicably as he listens to it scrape across the tile floor.
Mobius lets out a content sigh. “So, what would you like me to talk about?”
Loki turns his head to look at him, his fingers fidgeting and drumming lightly on his taut stomach. “I don’t know. This is remarkably unfamiliar to me.”
“I get it. I don’t usually become someone’s improvised bedtime story but there’s a first time for everything,” Mobius chuckles. “How about animals?”
Loki just nods. Mobius somehow continues to confound him even with the most mundane of things.
“Well, pets aren’t huge in the TVA, but occasionally animals that aren’t variants will come in one way or another. They may follow a team in from a timedoor or be snuck in by a rogue hunter or analyst,” Mobius fiddles with the end of his tie as he talks. “Once, a whole group of stray cats chased a new hunter right through their timedoor. Took weeks to catch them all, and they were eventually sent back to their timeline. All except two, anyway. There was Nugget, you may have met him during your introduction here, he was with Ricky in variant processing. The other… Well, as far as everyone else knows there wasn’t a second one. But between you and me, I kept her. She was a sweet little tabby that clung to me and meowed so sweetly and sadly if I didn’t touch her or pick her up, I couldn’t give her back! So, I kept her in my apartment and she lived to be what equated to about seventeen years. Her name was Rosie.”
Loki can’t help but chuckle at the starry eyed look in Mobius’ eyes. He supposes there’s a tad more to him than just obsessive pouring over variant files.
“Ahh, Agent Mobius has a rebellious streak, then,” Loki purrs teasingly, the bite gone from his usual charming expression. After a moment, Loki quirks a brow. “You said animals that weren’t variants. Does that mean animals can be variants too? Ever found an animal Loki? I can transform into anything, figures other versions of me ought to be able to as well.”
Mobius smiles but shakes his head. “No, can’t say I’ve ever found a purely animal Loki! I’ve seen some with some animalistic features, but none ever just an animal. That’d be pretty cool, though.”
Loki nods in agreement before he scrunches his face imagining what a Loki with “animalistic features” might be before deciding he’s too exhausted to want to know the potentially gritty details.
“Your cat. Her name was Rosie? Any reason why?”
Mobius shrugs softly. “Not sure. I have always liked roses so I think it just came naturally to me.”
Loki smiles halfheartedly, his eyes seeming to focus on nothing. “My mother’s favorite flower is… or was… roses too. Roses in shades of orange, specifically, because they often are said to represent gratitude.”
Mobius’ eyes drop to his lap before returning. “That’s fitting. I know she was grateful for you and Thor, for everything you brought to her life.”
Loki can only nod shortly. He can’t think too hard about her, about the image of her bleeding and dead on the ground that is said to be her inevitable fate.
Mobius spots Loki’s breath picking up again. “Tell me your favorite memory with her,” he asks, leaning in slightly.
Loki’s breath slows and he nods softly. “I have so many, but I remember the time I successfully completed my first act of magic. I changed the color of a flower. Fittingly, I changed a white rose to an orange one because I knew they were her favorite,” Loki murmurs softly, and he finds himself rolling onto his side, as if curling towards his mother’s warmth again despite it only being in his mind. “She hugged me so tight and lifted me into the air and spun me around, laughing with so much delight and pride. I saw tears of happiness in her eyes when she put me down and held my face in her hands, promising me that I could do anything and that she’d always be by my side.”
Mobius is struck into silence. He looks down at Loki, curled towards him with his eyes downcast, lips parted in thought. Finally, Mobius is able to speak. “I think she is, where it counts anyway. Even your sacred timeline self is spurred to act and keep fighting for her.”
Loki scoffs softly. “How does he—I— How could any version of us dare lay claim to her strength? After what we are apparently destined to do?”
Mobius swallows. He knows that he is weakening his resolve with every moment he talks to Loki, each moment he chooses to learn about him from his own mouth instead of as a distant observer through the screen of the reels. He knew it was dangerous even offering to stay, because that’s not what this is all about. Loki is here, saved from being pruned, to help them find his rogue variant and finally put a pin in that case. Mobius is supposed to be just getting information, maybe ever so slightly bending Loki to his will in order to make him the most helpful version of himself, he isn’t supposed to be “fraternizing” with him (as he imagines Ravonna saying with exasperation ripe in her voice.)
And yet, even after just a day, he’s starting to see something different with this Loki. He’s not the only Loki he’s ever met, but he is the closest to his sacred timeline self due to converging at a point only a few years prior to the end of his slated existence. But even beyond that… There's something about this Loki that sparks an intrigue beyond anything Mobius has ever felt. It’s a feeling of hope and amazement that fills him despite all odds, he isn’t sure where it comes from. But this Loki, here, with what little of his soul Mobius has been able to pry out, is something wonderful. Mobius doesn’t know how or why he knows, but he does. On a good day Mobius is obsessive and curious to a fault, but when confronted with such a fascinating Loki?
And so, with that, the feeling of lying to him strikes something deeply wrong within Mobius. He knows he should keep up the illusion, as Loki may say, because Loki being down is what will keep him amenable to all that they need him for. But seeing the shimmer of Loki’s eyes and the stifled down sobs that Mobius can tell Loki is just barely holding in, at the thought of him betraying his mother… Mobius can’t take it.
“Loki, no,” Mobius says softly. “That whole thing about you being the one to kill your mom? It’s not really true. I lied.”
Loki tilts his head up, his sharp eyes locking with Mobius’. Mobius can see a mix of distrust and a spark of tentative hope. “Pardon?”
“Your sacred timeline self did tell Kurse to go up those stairs, but your mother wasn’t actually there originally. She had gone to find Jane Foster, and eventually returned to that room later on, and died protecting Jane. So, it wouldn’t have mattered if you’d spoken to him or not, he would have tracked down Jane and killed your mother regardless, because he wanted the stone that lived in Jane. In nearly every timeline that follows a similar track, your mother dies protecting Jane and Asgard,” Mobius whispers. Some unfamiliar and concerning part of himself suddenly aches to reach forward and grab Loki’s hand or rest a hand on his leg to prove his genuine budding care. “I know it’s probably not exactly comforting as a whole, really, knowing her death is a rather fixed point. But you have to know it isn’t your fault.”
The sharpness has dropped from Loki’s eyes but his expression seems unreadable for a few long seconds, even to Mobius. Then, finally, Loki’s face melts into raw genuine relief, and tears spring to his eyes, a few rolling down his cheeks before he even seems to notice. A raw sob of exhaustion slips out before Loki slams his hand over his mouth, curling up tighter and only hazarding one short glance at Mobius, seemingly expecting something to hurt him. Mobius knows what crying and any other sign of ‘weakness’ caused for him in the Sanctuary.
Mobius throws all caution to the wind, now that he’s seemingly shown his hand and turned in his key bargaining chip against Loki. He has to hope it’s worth it. He reaches forward and rests a warm hand on Loki’s forehead, carefully brushing the hair out of his face before returning his hand to settle carefully in that spot. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. In fact my job is quite the opposite, I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt or pruned here,” Mobius smiles a tad nervously, trying for some levity.
Loki nods tersely, and Mobius can see every nerve in his body twitching with something pent up. And then, like a dam breaking, another sharp sob escapes his lips and then it’s all over, the tears of relief stream forth unbidden.
Mobius just sits there, his hand occasionally sweeping the unkempt hair back or tucking it behind Loki’s ears. He feels his mask of a TVA agent slipping more and more, the raw humanity taking the driver's seat. He always tries to focus on the being when handling cases, but there’s always a level of caution and scrutiny that he must maintain as well, allowing him to make the tough decisions when necessary, doing what it takes to keep the timeline steady and protected. And he hasn’t lost sight of that goal here, but the need to protect and worry about Loki has grown incredibly strong.
“It’s okay, Loki. I’m sorry, I manipulated you. It was necessary as a whole, but it wasn’t kind. I picked the worst wound to pick at.”
Loki sucks in a sharp breath, shuddering a bit before he looks at Mobius again. He doesn’t buck off or attempt to break the hand that rests on his forehead, which Mobius hopes is a good sign.
Loki just shakes his head softly. “I didn’t kill her…”
“No, you didn’t. And, I’ve seen Loki variants do so many things, but I’ve never seen a Loki kill a Frigga. I know how much you love her. She knows too,” Mobius adds softly.
“I always hoped so. I was lousy at showing it, though.”
“I think a lot of kids are,” Mobius tries a soft chuckle. Loki’s lips almost twitch into a smile. “Between you and Thor I think she was used to the drama and big emotions with misplaced energy. She loved you for it, not despite it.”
Loki just nods, seeming a bit wistful in combination with the relief still melting his features. He rolls onto his back again, letting out a massive sigh.
“Well, I suspect the tears may properly tire you out, but do you want to keep talking?”
Loki sighs again, seemingly unsure where else to put all of his feelings. “Yes, please. My mind is a mess.”
“I can only imagine,” Mobius replies softly. “Okay, tell me your favorite trick that you’ve pulled off. You know D.B. Cooper is a favorite of mine, but I’m sure you’ve got a favorite.”
Loki manages a smile at that, even through his red rimmed eyes and slightly puffy cheeks.
“Oh, how could I pick just one, I’ve had so many amazing ones,” Loki grins, looking a bit more like his usual self. He hums in thought for a moment, before a twinkle lights up in his eyes. “Right, so there was one time, during a banquet with a few visiting dignitaries, where I started to grow an entire garden in the banquet hall. I made roses grow at people’s feet and made vines grow from the ceilings. I even started to make flower crowns appear on everyone’s heads as they spoke. Odin was furious at the intrusion, he realized it was me fairly quickly, but my mother—though she tried her best to contain her laughter— was rather tickled by it. She told me later she found it to be harmless fun and incredibly impressive magic to boot. I think that one stands out to me.”
Mobius can only imagine the mix of pure joy and chaos that had erupted in that room, foreign dignitaries and Loki’s own family alike suddenly feeling beautiful blooms upon their heads, and watching the room fill up with luscious gardens. It strikes Mobius that one of Loki’s favorite tricks, chaotic though it may be, was harmless and caused joy rather than pain and discord. Maybe Loki was truly one to prefer comfort over destruction when given the chance.
“I wish I could have seen that!” Mobius smiles, shaking his head fondly.
“Well, if there’s ever a space for me to use my magic, watch out, because your turn for an abundance of flowers will come.”
All the other agents and hunters would certainly tease him, but Mobius feels a rush of confusing warmth at the idea of bursting into lighthearted laughter with Loki as he makes brilliant explosions of flowers. Maybe Ravonna is right about his abundant weak spot where Lokis are concerned.
“I’d expect nothing less,” Mobius agrees, a soft smile on his face, as he watches the slight twinkle in Loki’s eyes. It’s the first hint of true joy he’s seen since he arrived.
“Now, it’s my turn to ask a question,” Loki locks eyes with Mobius. “Since you know almost everything about me, it seems only fair.”
Loki lets out a short yawn, which is the only thing that convinces Mobius that this whole conversation is actually going to help Loki sleep and not just rile him up or be used as a ploy to set up some trick. Mobius supposes it still could be the latter, but something in his gut—the part that is aggressively familiar with Lokis— thinks it isn’t a trick, but simply a tired Loki allowing a few raw pieces of himself to be exposed given the circumstances.
“Alright, go for it.”
“Why Lokis?”
“Pardon?” Mobius asks. He’s not sure what he was expecting but he’s pretty sure that wasn’t on the list.
“I mean why do you study Lokis? Why am I—why are we… your topic of interest for the last however many eons?”
Mobius feels like there should be some snark or bite behind Loki’s words but he finds none. Instead he simply sees a genuine curiosity, perhaps even a bit of… disbelief?
“Well, it was sort of an accident at first, one of the first big cases I was given as a full time analyst was a Loki, some Loki that decided to clone themself and release like a hundred copies across Asgard and Midgard, causing proper chaos as you might expect. And I was tasked with interrogating them, and I became… hooked? If that’s the right word, on how much of a mercurial spirit that Loki was, and I had managed to learn a lot from that case so I was put on the next Loki case, and the next, until I was the unofficial Loki expert. I was spending time researching and learning even outside of cases, I’m rather well-read if I do say so myself,” Mobius shrugs softly as if he isn’t playing all his cards and showing all his tells. He can’t seem to mind, for some inexplicable reason. “I’m simply fascinated by how clever you all are, how much of a mystery, yet always one with an answer, if you look hard enough. I don’t know, I am just intrigued by you. You’re so much more… everything than you allow yourself to believe.”
Loki is staring at him with some wide eyed, almost awed expression. Mobius isn’t sure if it’s one of pleasure or the precursor for anger. He’s well aware that knowing a practical stranger's life inside and out, possibly more than they do themselves, is unnatural. He’s wondered about the implications of it, but always shoved those thoughts aside, because it’s his job to analyze, and he never expected to actually get beyond the short interrogation with any of the beings he watched.
“Sorry. I know it’s strange to be so invested in your life when you don’t know me, but—”
Loki shakes his head. “Oh, I’m beyond the strangeness of those sorts of things. I can’t undo however many eons of work they’ve had you do,” Loki shrugs softly, nestling slightly into the springy bed, the creak of the metal making him twitch slightly before he regains eye contact with Mobius. “The whole thing is strange, yes, but not as much as you. Your life is dictated by control and order, and you are fascinated by a being of chaos. There’s something to that, no?”
Mobius huffs out a soft laugh. Loki’s curiosity and analysis is exactly why he will be an asset in finding this variant. “Yeah? What’s there, do you think?”
Loki hums and narrows his eyes slightly, scrutinizing Mobius in a way that Mobius recognizes, having done the same as he poured over various reels. “I’m not sure yet. But I will find out, don’t you worry.”
“I count on it.”
Loki gives a small smile, but it flickers slightly. Anybody that doesn’t know Loki wouldn’t notice. “Beyond that… you seem to be a man of integrity, Agent Mobius, and yet you’re drawn to not only chaos but a being of inherent evil.” Loki’s eyes shift cautiously towards Mobius, the curiosity present but dimmed by a twinge of doubt.
Mobius frowns and shakes his head softly. “I meant what I said earlier. I don’t see it that way. Lokis as a whole are no more evil than any other being. I’ve seen Lokis that do reprehensible things, sure, but I’ve also seen Lokis as lifesavers, as philanthropists, as heroes. All variants have as much capability to be evil as good, Lokis included. My point being, you’re not predisposed to it. And I don’t think you, with any of what you’ve done, are evil.”
“Does any of that matter, though? By the standards of your TVA, anyway? If there is some supposed sacred timeline, do those other variants and their dispositions matter any?”
Mobius sighs softly. “To the TVA? Maybe not. But to me… definitely.”
And that’s something wild Mobius is allowing himself to admit. He loves his work, his life. The TVA is what he knows, who he is. But he would be lying if he didn’t sometimes push the rules and ideals, believing and caring about things that aren’t strictly necessary as an agent. Because Loki is right, by the standards of the TVA, what a variant does is important only to the point of being able to prune their timeline, beyond that it’s meaningless. And he still knows that pruning those branches and variants is necessary, of course it is, otherwise they’d descend into another multiversal war. But before the point where those variants absolutely must be deleted, Mobius thinks their inclinations matter. Even if they aren’t destined to continue existing, their existence does mean something.
Loki’s lips part in thought. Mobius recognizes the face of intense consideration. He’s quiet for a long moment, eyes boring into Mobius even though Mobius can feel and see the exhaustion in every inch of him.
“Like I said. I’ll figure out what’s up with you, Agent Mobius.”
“And I look forward to hearing everything you have to say,” Mobius says with a soft smirk. He’s not kidding, he does want to know everything Loki thinks and feels, because each piece of information helps him build that glorious Loki puzzle. But he also knows that he’s setting himself up for tricks and sneakiness and snark, which he will handle with all the grace (and repaid teasing) he can. Loki is a wonderful, curious challenge, something Mobius doesn’t get much of in his day to day.
Loki lets out a yawn, and Mobius nods to himself. He’s glad all of this has worked out.
“Tell me another story, Mobius,” Loki murmurs as he starts nodding off. Mobius hears the princely yet gentle command within his tone, but there’s an unmistakable softness.
“Sure thing.”
So, Mobius begins a wild story about a mission gone wrong where they ended up in the middle of a massive lake, trapped by a non-Loki trickster, where the water was put under a spell that kept changing the contents, forcing them to swim through gelatin and pudding and frozen margarita and some weird liquified sand. He gestures around the room to make his points, and before he gets to the part about having to outrun some huge (harmless, but huge) bugs due to being doused in sticky sweetness, Mobius peeks down to see Loki fast asleep. His messy black curls sprawl out on the pillow, as his mouth is dropped slightly open as puffs of breath escape.
Mobius smiles softly, and settles back into the desk chair, slightly padded but otherwise rather solid. Mobius has fallen asleep on much worse during his myriad of past missions, he doesn’t mind a bit more back pain than he’d already get just due to his age and experiences. He wants to be here to help Loki if he happens to wake up.
Mobius takes a final peek at Loki as he starts to feel himself drifting off.
He’s still not sure what it is, but this Loki really is something special. Just as Loki seems baffled by Mobius, Mobius’ curiosity has been awakened once again, and he can’t wait to get started with Loki as his case partner.