Fall From Mischief
Amora groaned, the fluorescent yellowish lights were giving her a headache. Opening her eyes, Amora blinked to adjust to the lighting. An almost clean artificial smell caught her senses, wherever she was, it wasn’t real; or at least, it didn’t feel that way. Her body felt weak and limp, but the pain she had been feeling before wasn’t there. Staring up at the fluorescent tubes of light above her, Amora wiggled her fingers, bringing feeling back to her hands and wrists. As she swallowed she realized how dry her throat was reached her hand up to touch her throat. Instead of skin, Amora’s fingers grazed along the edges of a collar, feeling the warning label and eventually the device pack on the side.
“Yeah, that won’t be coming off anytime soon”
Looking over at the source of the voice, Amora saw Mobius push aside the medical curtain and walk over to her bedside. Mobius set a paper cup on Amora’s bedside before pulling a chair over for himself to sit in. Arching her back to crack it, Amora started to sit up, the presence of the pain in her stomach returning. Mobius set his own paper cup aside to try and help her, but Amora stopped him, putting a hand up in protest but allowed him to prop up a pillow behind her so she’d be comfortable. Reaching over to the paper cup that Mobius had brought her, Amora sniffed the small opening on the lid of the cup.
“Don’t worry” He said. “It’s coffee”
Amora gave Mobius a once over before taking a sip, the bitterness was jarring but surprisingly tasteful. Clearing her throat, Amora glared at Mobius, keeping track of his moves as carefully as she could.
“If looks could kill” He chuckled, repositioning his legs.
“Just prune me.”
“No.” Mobius took a notepad out of his jacket pocket along with a pen.
“Then you should’ve left me to bleed out and die in Pompeii”
“I told you there and I’ll tell you here the same thing, not gonna happen”
Amora frowned, bitterly sipping her coffee.
“How did you affect the eruption of Vesuvius?” He asked.
“I didn’t” Amora responded curtly.
“Then why did it erupt hours before schedule?”
“You analysts and your schedules, always so practical” She scoffed. “That mountain erupted on its own, Loki and I were in the center of the city, nowhere near it”
“Drinking and partying with Loki, how familiar for you”
Amora’s interest was piqued, “Jealous, Agent Mobius?”
“Your tactics are no use here Ms. Karnilladottir”
Amora felt a burning sensation explode in her chest, her face heating up. “YOU DARE CALL ME BY THAT HEL TRODDEN NAME”
Mobius leaned back a bit, reaching for the remote in his pocket. Pain rippled through Amora’s body; she had overexerted herself. Falling back into the pillows, she leaned her head back, closing her eyes and regaining her composure.
“Apologies” Mobius mumbled. “But when you meddle with your file, I can only uncover so much about you”
Amora swallowed, opening her eyes. “My story is my own, I alone am the one who should know it, not some ‘plucked from a timeline second rate cubicle worker’”
Mobius straightened his posture, setting his pen down.
“Funny…Loki told me the same thing” He spoke in a low voice. “That all TVA workers are variants…how long did it take for you two to craft that elaborate lie?”
“It’s not a lie, Mobius” Amora frowned. “I worked here for quite some time, and you know that I know things that Ravonna would prune me over”
“I’m supposed to believe a pair of lying manipulative gods?”
“Where’s Loki?”
“Pruned.” Mobius looked back down at his notes, writing things down.
“What?” Amora’s pulse quickened.
“He was pruned, he became a liability just like you”
Her hands began to shake, tears welling up. “You’re lying”
“I’m not, but of course, you’d never know because your magic is useless here”
“You…” Amora sneered. “bottom-feeding…insignificant…”
Mobius rolled his eyes, once again reaching for the remote, and Amora knew this, but her anger had consumed her.
“mortal trash…YOU DARE DEFY THE GODS?! YOU’RE A PUPPET OF NO VALUE AND YOU DARE-“
Mobius clicked the remote, Amora’s body slamming back into pillows, tears now streaming down her face.
“Got that out of your system?” He asked.
“I’ll kill you…how dare you…you…” She trailed off. “Please just prune me” she sobbed. “DO IT”
“I’m not gonna do that Amora” Mobius got up, placing his notebook and pen back in his jacket pocket.
Amora screamed at him as Mobius left her bedside, her words blending together in a mixture of English and Asgardian swears and curses. Once she was certain he was gone, Amora swore to herself. Placing her face in her hands and letting her emotions flow through her. Her sobs filled the silence, a piece of her once again ripped from her.
*********
Loki collapsed onto the floor of the time prison, flipping his hair out of his face as he looked up. His eyes fixated on the scenery around him, the golden arches and sconces gave away the location instantly.
Asgard.
A sense of comfort washed over him, a feeling that was instantly replaced with concern and alertness. This wasn’t the Asgard he was familiar with, this was a façade, it had to be. Loki pulled himself on his feet, brushing off and adjusting the TVA uniform he had been forced back into. At least this one was clean, more so than the one he had been wearing for days before changing his and Amora’s clothing.
Amora.
A pain stung in his chest as the name echoed through his head, memories filtering through along with it. Was this pain from the loss of his oldest friend or the loss of the knowledge that he would have gotten from her about how she became wrapped up in all of this? Perhaps it was a mixture of both, a feeling of disdain and loss creating their own emotion within him.
Loki had no real reason to doubt Mobius’s words, he had been trustworthy, at least, that’s what Loki wanted to believe. The suppression of his magic was infuriating, not being able to do the simplest of tasks, menial labor was beneath him. However, there was a small glimmer of hope, not all of his powers were suppressed. He could still tell when people were lying to him. It was a power that Loki never truly understood how it worked, it wasn’t magic, it was more of an instinct. The power to read people’s thoughts? Now that was magic. Something Amora taught him ironically. But lies? They were easily trackable and uncovered. Loki had noticed it from an early age when Odin would speak with him, a sense of ‘something was not quite right' would come over him.
Thinking back on the conversation with Mobius, Loki played the memory over and over again in his mind. He closed his eyes, concentrating on Mobius’s hand movements and subtle mannerisms. Mobius did everything possible to avoid eye contact, he preoccupied himself with writing and keeping his focus on the pad of paper in front of him rather than across to Loki.
“He lied” Loki smiled.
“You vile, evil, trickster!” A familiar voice echoed through the Asgardian hall.
Loki snapped out of his enjoyment of this revelation and quickly looked up to see Lady Sif storming towards him.
“Sif!” He smiled.
“You are an evil and vile creature” She hissed.
Loki’s eyes locked onto the fistful of hair that Sif was clutching, instantly realizing the situation.
“Now Sif” Loki held back a chuckle, pressing his lips into a thin line in order to hide his smile.
“I bet you and that harlot planned this, huh? Do you think this is some sort of game to you? The misfortune of others?”
“To be completely honest, Amora really had nothing to do with it” This time. “But if it’s all the same to you…I think you look rather…charming with a haircut like that”
Loki tried his best to hold back his laughter, but it was proving to be difficult, especially when remembering Thor’s reaction. When Loki had told Amora what he had done to Sif, the two knew exactly what would happen next. Sif was predictable to them, and she went exactly where Amora knew she would. Crying to Thor to get him to fix this “problem”. Thor didn’t even notice the hunk of hair that Loki had chopped off, he thought she was trying out a new look and complimented her. Loki and Amora had never laughed so hard in their lives.
“Are you laughing?” Sif’s mouth hung open in shock.
Quickly, Loki covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head.
“Of course not, Sif” He but down on his lip. “You know, I’m so terribly…sorry…for what I did, and I don’t blame you for being angry”
Sif could tell he was lying to her; his false apology was hidden behind snickers and hesitation. Without another word, Loki was met with a swift punch to the gut, causing him to double over. Loki coughed, but before he could regain his composure, Sif’s knee rammed between his legs and sent him to the ground. Loki watched as the scorned warrior walked off in a huff, leaving him groaning in pain and discomfort on the ground.
“Can’t say that wasn’t deserved” He groaned to himself.
Once Loki had pulled himself back up and adjusted himself to feel more comfortable after being struck in the groin, he saw Sif round the corner again. The hunk of hair was still in her hands and her eyes were laced with the same anger as before.
“Sif?”
“You vile, evil, trickster!” She shouted.
“Yes…we’ve been over this before”
The same series of events transpired, and Loki once again found himself on the ground groaning in pain. As if twice wasn’t enough, the scene repeated about five more times, each more painful than the last. Eventually, Loki crawls to his knees, attempting to plead with Sif in order to spare himself the pain.
As the trickster waited for Sif to round the corner once again, a burst of deep dark laughter filled the prison. It started as a soft chuckle but grew into strong deep laughter that sent a chill down his spine. The scene of Asgard began to glitch and darken, fading in and out as Loki steadied himself to his feet. The Asgardian hall shifted into the throne room, but there was a darkness to it. Loki was used to seeing the gilded halls lit brightly with torches and filled with free air. This was not that. Green flames filled the sconces and lit the throne room, casting darkness over the open hall that made it more contained than open.
Loki’s eyes trailed up the steps in front of him, following the golden rug to the throne. A shadow loomed in the green lighting, their eyes a vibrant emerald, glaring down at him with familiarity. The figure lounged on the throne; pillows were stuffed around them in various places as they sat with their legs kicked out in front of them. Loki’s eyes caught the glint of the sharp blade of a dagger in their left hand, the figure twisted it slowly as they watched him.
“Hello?” Loki called out.
“Pathetic” The figure growled.
“I beg your pardon?” Loki shifted his stance.
The figure stood up from the throne, their height looming over Loki as they stood at the top of the stairs. Quickly the figure flicked their right hand, causing all of the green flames to change their colour to a regular yellow-orange. Loki stumbled back a bit, clearly seeing the figure now.
“You’re…” He mumbled.
“I’m you” They grinned. “This is your future…ruler of Asgard and the nine realms”
Loki lifted his head, carefully watching his other-self. They stood proudly in front of the throne; their flowing emerald cape inlaid with gold, pooling around their black boots. Fur lined the collar of the cape, connected together by a chain of gold that draped across a green lace-up poet shirt that was tucked into high-waisted black leather pants. Loki frowned, he was standing in a blue button-down and slacks, while the ruler of Asgard stood before him in a much better outfit. Their hair wasn’t greasy and unkempt either, it was tied back in a ponytail and shimmered under the firelight.
“I know” they grinned. “The cape really does tie the whole thing together”
“We are known for our style” Loki smirked in response.
“Amora suggested the fur, she said it gave a sense of regality”
“She rules with us?”
Royal Loki’s grin dropped, turning into a scowl at the mention of Amora’s name. Before they could respond, a shriek split through the illusion, the same voice that had been laughing before.
“THAT COW IS NOT IMPORTANT” The voice shouted. “She’s a liar and a cheat”
Royal Loki tilted their head, nodding in agreement as the two stood there listening to the voice.
“Who are you?” Loki called out, growing tired of the disembodied voice following him.
The voice erupted into laughter once more, growing and then fading. The scene shifted around Loki once again, reversing and sending Royal Loki back to their lounged position on the throne. Loki stood in shock and confusion as Royal Loki’s eyes set back into the glow of the green fire, examining him with a hunger a familiarity.
“This is the future. The throne. Asgard. The nine realms” the voice echoed.
“I rule Asgard?” Loki said. “Interesting…and you know this future how?”
“Hold all questions until the end…” the voice clicked their tongue in annoyance. “This is actually a pathway Friggason…a pathway that has an outcome and predecessor, the only question is, how will you approach this rule?”
“Pardon?”
“This is both an end and a beginning, the choice is there, do you understand yet or what more?”
Loki’s attention was peaked, that last line struck deep within him. ‘do you understand yet or what more?’ Lifting his head, his eyes carefully scanning the throne room around him, he drew in a deep breath.
“Tell me…Seeress…do you work for the TVA? Is this Mobius’s doing?”
Another bought of laughter filled the hall, even Royal Loki cracked a smile at it.
“Surely you jest, you who is clad in the unseemly dressings of the puppets themselves, you think me so easily manipulated? I am not you. I am better.”
“Better?” Loki chuckled. “Well I’m on a kind of kick to challenge fate recently, I’m sure I could change that”
“Could you? Because not even being the ruler of Asgard gave the satisfaction that you thought you desired”
The scenery shifted again, distorting, and jumping, something wasn’t quite right with this. Loki was used to the fluidity and quickness of the TVA’s technology, but this was jagged and glitchy.
The green flames dispersed, extinguishing, and plunging Loki into darkness. Royal Loki vanished, or more, glitched out of the throne, stripped of all their “regality” and looked as if they had seen better days. A damp smell filtered in around Loki, followed by the golden shimmer of an Asgardian prison cell. Still watching Royal Loki’s figure, the pale white walls of the cell manifested around the golden barriers, but they were covered in bloodied handprints and scuffs. The floors around them contained tipped over tables and shatter glasses, books with pages ripped out (some of which were stuck in the wall), and a plethora of destroyed objects. Royal Loki’s hair was matted, a sense of dissociation behind their eyes that replaced the former pride. The fur-lined cloak was gone, as Loki’s eyes carefully scanned the dim prison cell he could see the cuffs of their pants were shredded and their shirt was ripped and frayed.
“What is this?” He asked.
“The second pathway…” the voice giggled. “the place you either begin or end up…well…yeah… let's just leave it at that for the sake of simplicity”
“Was I not a good ruler?”
The voice spoke with a smile on its lips, “You struck fear into the Asgardians, conquered the nine realms, laid waste to Midgard, and did not listen to your advisors…then…Thor returned, he tried to reason but according to him you were ‘too far gone' then you live out the rest of your days here…in this cell…quite cozy don’t you think?”
“No. That. That doesn’t seem right” Loki shook his head.
“Sorry…not really but…yeah you aren’t a very good person, you were never meant to be, it’s that simple”
“Thor would try to help me, not condemn me”
“You put too much faith in him, Friggason, too much faith indeed”
“How do I know this is all the truth? You could be lying”
The voice was silent. For the first time, they had no rebuttal, no comment, just silence. Loki waited, he needed to hear a response, once he was out of this time prison he would have words with Mobius. Making him relive a memory was fine, but forcing him to experience his future? This lie wasn’t going to scare him. The air seemed to go still, Loki was tempted to call out to the voice, reach out to it himself. Glancing back at Royal Loki, they weren’t breathing, it was like a picture, an image paused for him to observe.
“you cannot escape your fate, a Loki is meant to be evil, shaped by those around them until they are twisted into a morbid version of what previously was” The voice echoed, sounding more menacing than before. “It is better that you learn now that no matter what relationship you have with people, they will all betray you, you will be alone, as a Loki should. Alone for eternity. Not even the Norns give you the time of day”
“Why should I believe you?” Loki scoffed.
“Because not anyone could show you the future…where do you think I got these memories?”
Loki’s blood ran cold, colder than it usually was, the pieces began to slowly shift into place.
“Wait you’re-“
“Loki!”
Loki felt a grip on his arm, the warm touch wrapped around his forearm, digging into his skin as he was pulled back. Loki was yanked from the time prison completely, finding himself back in the time theatre. The orange portal beside him promptly vanished and the trickster was alone with Mobius.
“Are you okay?” Mobius looked up at Loki, his hand still tightly grasping Loki’s forearm.
Loki was shaken, the realization that he had come to just moments before was circling around his mind. A tension-filled his chest and no matter what he did, his hands continued to shake. Everything felt like it was happening at once and Loki could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
“Loki?” Mobius tried to get his attention, but Loki quickly pushed away, feeling overwhelmed.
“I- I- I- I need-“ He couldn’t form words, more like, he couldn’t think straight.
“Loki. Calm down, understand that I had nothing to do with that” Mobius began following him around the time theatre as Loki paced.
“Amora” Loki mumbled.
“She’s-“ Mobius began.
“Amora” Loki ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. “I need to find Amora, she’s- she- she- she-“
“She’s dead Loki”
Loki stopped pacing, looking over at Mobius from across the room and pointing his finger at him. “No. no- no- no- no- you lied to me, quite well I might add, it was an excellent lie, and yes, my magic does not work in this time prison, but you did not factor in that my ability to detect lies is not magic, it is an instinct, you lied to me about Amora, she is not dead you have her where is she”
“Loki…calm down…” Mobius took a hesitant step toward him.
“No. No, I need to find her. She is in danger. That…that in there- that-“
“I know, Loki. I know. That was not my doing, please just sit down” Mobius motioned to the empty chairs. “I will explain just please calm down”
“CALM DOWN?!” Loki shouted.
The door to the Time Theatre slammed open, ricocheting off of the wall, leaving a decent-sized hole in the wall. Loki stumbled back a bit, looking quickly from Mobius to the group of Minutemen walking into the room. Ravonna was trailing behind the group of about three Minutemen, the look in her eyes was not comforting. There was a fire, a ferocity that sent a chill down Loki’s spine.
“Ravonna, I’m dealing with it” Mobius sighed.
The Minutemen surrounded Ravonna as she stepped forward toward Mobius. Loki kept his distance as he sized up the Minutemen and Ravonna.
“Mobius…you’ve been disloyal to the TVA” Ravonna’s voice was calm, a calm that held often bordered on the edge of sinister.
Ravonna reached out to the Minuteman closest to her, removing the pruning staff from their hands. With a quick twist of the handle, the staff lit up and buzzed with energy. In a single fluid motion, Ravonna thrust the staff toward Mobius, hitting him in the chest.
Loki’s body went cold, a feeling bubbling up that was on par with what he felt with being told that Amora was dead. Mobius’s body slowly fazed out of existence and all Loki could do was watch. Watch in utter horror as he felt as if a piece of him had been taken from him. Like a child having their favorite toy ripped from them. Loki’s eyes welled up with tears, his face twisting into horror and grief. There was an urge to reach out to Mobius, pull him back, save him from being erased completely from history. As the last bits of Mobius vanished from the Time Theater, Loki’s jaw tightened, and his eyes hardened into a glare aimed directly at Ravonna. The judge’s sights set on Loki; an unspoken exchange being had as she passed the pruning staff back to the Minuteman.
“Deal with this variant” Ravonna’s voice wavered, her lips tightly pressed together as she turned and left.
Hot tears rolled down Loki’s face as he stared down the three Minutemen that remained in the Time Theater. The other two quickly twisted their pruning staffs and within a breath of doing so, they lunged at Loki. The god jumped out of the way, rolling and landing in a crouched position.
“Is that the best you lot have?” He mocked.
The Minutemen once again lunged for Loki, but he avoided their efforts. The first one that was in arms reach, Loki disarmed them, forcing his elbow into their arm, making them drop the pruning staff. The staff clattered to the floor and whilst avoiding the other two Minutemen, Loki took the opportunity to snatch up the pruning staff and prune the disarmed Minutemen. One of the remaining two brought his staff down in an attempt to strike Loki, Loki brought his own staff up, stopping the blow. This attempt opened up the opportunity for Loki to sweep his leg across the floor, causing the Minuteman to collapse back first on the floor. In another swift motion, Loki flipped the staff around and threaded it underneath his arm as the second Minuteman tried to attack him from behind. The attack was subdued as the Minuteman behind him was pruned and it took only a second to flip the staff back around and prune the Minuteman that was lying on the floor.
Loki stood up, breathing a sigh of relief and twisting the handle to turn the staff off, he was gonna hold onto this device for a while. Loki’s eyes glanced over at the last spot that Mobius stood, pain and regret surging in his chest. He knows that he could have saved him, if only he had acted sooner. Shaking the emotion from his mind as best as he could, Loki made his way out of the Time Theater. Amora was alive. He knew she was, but he needed to find her, she needed to explain herself, how she’s gotten herself wrapped up in this. Loki let his intuition guide him and headed right from the Theater. Minutemen ran past him, not giving the god a second glance as they ran down the hallway in pursuit of something in the opposite direction. As Loki turned a corner, a hooded figure acknowledged his presence. A sharp green glare stared him down, the shadow of the dark green hood hiding any other features. Loki’s slowed his pace, stopping briefly to notice the emerald dagger clutched tightly in their hands.
“Amora” Loki mumbled, taking off down the hallway toward the figure.
The figure quickly took off as Loki sprinted toward them, there was something in him that knew who it was, but he wanted confirmation. The chase continued down several hallways, but Loki couldn’t help but feel as though the figure was leading him rather than running. They glanced behind them, almost checking if he was still there. Loki couldn’t let them get away, that dagger was familiar to him, the flash of it awakening what he assumed was another hidden memory. This was no time to dwell on it though, the figure bolted into a room and Loki made it just in time to stop them from closing the door. Loki put his whole body weight into forcing the door open, the figure grunting from the strain. Without warning, a flash of green magic appeared through the small opening and forced the door shut, Loki hearing the click of the lock as soon as it shut. He slammed his fists against the door, trying the handle again but having no luck. As he calmed down and stopped banging on the door, a voice called out to him from inside the room.
“Loki!” Amora’s voice was filled with a fear that he had never heard before.
“Amora?!” Loki’s heart swelled at the sound of her voice; he knew she was alive but having a sure confirmation was what drove him.
Loki threw his shoulder into the door again, trying to remember all the times that Thor broke down doors while in battle. How did Thor do it? This was straining and his shoulder was beginning to hurt, but as he made one more attempt, the door finally gave, and Loki practically fell into the room. The bright lights of the infirmary were straining on his eyes, but Loki’s blood ran cold at the sight in front of him. Amora was handcuffed to one of the medical beds, the figure standing beside her pressing the emerald dagger into the skin of her throat. There was fear in Amora’s eyes, but it was being masked by her stoic expression.
“Listen, put the knife down, I need her alive” Loki held his hands up in protest as he carefully walked toward them.
“Oh well, I need her dead, so if you want her blood painting the walls keep walking” It was a feminine voice with a growl in it.
“Who are you?” Loki put his hands down, squaring his shoulders a bit as he straightened his posture.
Amora seemed to stare him down, “I can explain-“
The figure pressed the dagger down, drawing a bit of blood, “SHUT UP!” they shouted, their knuckles going white from how tightly they were clutching the handle. “See Amora, you could explain, but everything you utter is one lie after the other”
Loki carefully watched as the figure ridiculed Amora, taunting her. “Listen, we can just talk this out, I need whatever lies she’s told to be explained…Amora has messed with my memories, and I need her to restore them…so if you would, keep her alive please”
“Loki, she’s psychotic don’t try and reason with her” Amora mumbled, her breath hitching as the knife dug into her skin, drawing more blood.
“I said shut up!” They screeched.
The figure moved their hand from Amora’s shoulder to grab a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back.
“Now I have a better area to work with” They mumbled, a smile appearing underneath the hood.
“Fine,” Loki said. “You obviously won’t listen to a single thing I say so go on with it”
“LOKI” Amora screeched.
“Kill her…drench this healing room in the crimson of her blood, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen her covered in blood…but this time it is hers”
The figure glared him down, their sharp emerald stare enraged yet thoughtful. They were trying to figure out what Loki was doing, and he knew that. Loki tried his best to suppress a smirk, he knew this had to work.
“You care about her too much,” They said. “You don’t want her dead, you’ve already lost Mobius, but yet I’m curious about what would happen if you lost her”
Loki glanced at Amora, trying desperately to hide his emotions just as well as she did.
“Kill away,” He said, still staring at Amora. “However you should know…” Loki twisted the pruning staff in his hands, turning it on. “I will not hesitate to avenge her”
A smile poked at the corner of Amora’s lips.
The figure looked down at Amora and then back up to Loki, uttering an Asgardian curse under their breath. The knife was removed off of Amora’s neck, she breathed a sigh of relief as the figure let go of her and stalked toward Loki.
“I’ll just have to kill you first,” They said. “It’s not in the plan but it will be gratifying”
“Can I at least know who you are before you kill me?” Loki gave a cocky smirk, gesturing to the figure.
“Very well”
The figure flipped down their hood and Loki’s blood ran cold, a chill accompanying the overwhelming feeling of dread. Staring back at him, the figure discarded their black cloak revealing a worn and tattered Asgardian uniform. It was the same one he remembers wearing whilst in and out of consciousness in New York. Their long black hair was matted and yet was somehow still tied half in a braid. Their green eyes were more prominent and the dagger was twisting in their calloused and bloodied hands.
“Loki, currently Princess of Asgard and rightful ruler of Jotunheim” she gave a low bow, extending her arms outward in a dramatic gesture. “Such a pleasure to meet you…Loki” she grinned, standing back up straight.
Loki looked to Amora in annoyance and shock, “Really?”
Amora rolled her eyes and said nothing, preoccupying herself with trying to get her hands free from the cuffs attached to the medical bed. Loki stared down his variant, tightening his grip on the pruning rod as he waited for them to make the first move. The variant flipped the dagger in their hand, now clutching it overhand, and lunged toward Loki. Dodging the attack, Loki held onto the pruning rod tightly but felt a small burn in his arm. Looking down at his forearm he noticed blood pooling through his shirt, she had managed to nick him. She lunged at him again, her swipes at him were quick and fluid, something he would expect from himself. Loki tried as best he could to dodge each attack, but it was one flurry of attacks after another and soon enough they all began to blur. Each move that Loki made to either strike or prune the variant was dodged or thwarted. She was quick, exceptionally skilled, and it was beginning to get on his nerves. How could she be stronger and more skilled than him? They were the same.
Loki brought the pruning rod down, attempting to finally land a hit on the variant when he felt a sharp pain between his ribs. Loki looked down, finding the emerald dagger lodged in his torso.
“LOKI!” Amora screeched.
The god slowly looked up at his variant as he fell to his knees, his hands clutching theirs as he held onto the handle of the dagger. The pruning rod clattered to the floor next to him, still buzzing with energy. The variant took one of her hands from the handle of the dagger and cupped Loki’s face, steadying his gaze to look at her. She leaned her head forward, her lips now beside his ear, and in a low growling whisper, she spoke to him.
“Th’ abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.” She whispered as she pulled the dagger out of his body.
It made just as much damage being ripped from between his ribs as it did being inserted in. Loki pressed one of his hands firmly on the wound, the other he use to grab onto the variant’s shoulder to steady himself. The blood was beginning to pool around his hand and drip steadily over and onto the floor. He wanted to reach for the pruning rod, it had fallen right next to him. Loki tried to use his peripheral vision to see it, but it wasn’t there. A hollowness filled his chest as the variant raised the pruning rod up next to them. Pushing Loki’s hand from her shoulder, he collapsed onto the floor reaching out to the medical bed that Amora was chained to. It felt like seconds, but the variant dug the pruning rod directly between Loki’s shoulder blades, and quickly he felt his body dematerializing.
*********
Amora was sure that her screeches could shatter glass if there were any windows in the infirmary. Hot tears streamed down her face as she pulled on the handcuffs like a caged animal, the clanging of the metal mixing with the sound of her screams. Loki was gone. She watched his body get pruned out of existence. The blood from his hands and wound still on the white tiles of the infirmary. The variant snapped the pruning rod over her knee before looking back to Amora, a sinister grin plastered across her face. Amora couldn’t get the damn cuffs to budge and the more she struggled the more they dug into her wrists, cutting them up and burning them.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this” She smiled, stepping through the blood with the dagger still firmly in her hand.
Amora stopped screaming, pressing her lips together but they were still quivering. Too many different emotions were flowing through her at that moment that she couldn’t narrow it down to the point of being able to mask it. The variant approached her, running the bloodied blade of the dagger along the bedsheet. She swiftly sliced into Amora’s leg, tracing the cut, and creating another mark along Amora’s right bicep. Amora hissed in pain, the variant clicking her tongue as she traced the blade along Amora’s jawline.
“Come now, Mori…I thought you liked it when I used knives…” she giggled.
Amora tried to steady her breathing as she waited for the variant to slice her throat open. Loki carefully placed the knife along her throat, pressing down to measure the right amount of pressure and to feel Amora’s pulse beating through the blade. AS she went to pull the blade across Amora’s throat, she gasped, dropping the knife. Amora heard it clatter to the floor as she watched the variant vanish from existence. Behind where Loki was standing, Ravonna now stood, a pruning rod thrust in front of her and a wave of anger behind her eyes.
“We need to talk” Ravonna seethed.