Chapter Text
“I should’ve left the jackass falling for a millenia.” Stephen Strange hisses under his breath, wishing for the hundredth time that hour that he’d just stayed in his apartment all those years ago and hadn’t needed to go to a blasted party that left him in a car crash. Cursing anything and everything that had led up to this moment in time.
Specifically this very moment: 4:00 am on a Wednesday, chilly January weather blowing outside in a conveniently violent manner that pretty much reflects the growing dread expanding in his chest. Figures he might as well specify now that time itself means jackshit since it’s bending over backwards, forwards and tearing itself apart like a pair of cable headphones playing a fucked up version of Twister.
“I’m going to fucking kill him.”
And yeah, he’s had a few hunches about who or what could’ve unleashed this madness about the first five minutes after he woke up, but after further consideration, he has only one culprit.
I mean, this whole ordeal has chaos written all over it.
Stephen worries at his bottom lip, using the Eye of Agamotto (hastily thrown on in a craze as he tried to get his bearings once the timeline went to shit) to shift and twist the glowing representation of their Timeline floating a few feet above the wooden floor tiles, wisps of white branching out into oranges, reds and yellows, growing bigger and longer and twistier and a lot more solid every second that passes. Every choice, every thought, every contemplation-- any moment a creature in existence acts on their newly obtained free will (which, by the way, was a mere figment a few hours ago apparently? What else could explain this mess?!) births a new set of events and their succession. Universes upon universes upon universes.
A multiverse.
Loki Odinson was a dead man. (God. Sorcerer. Whatever.)
“Damn it,” Another branch extends from the main trunk, floating and snaking its way toward Stephen’s coffee machine. “This is a nightmare.”
He has no idea how he’s going to solve this. Who thought it’d be a good idea to leave this to him, anyway? He’s an idiot. Surely, the Ancient One knew this.
The branch fazes through the coffee machine.
“Okay, game plan,” Stephen straightens up and lets the glowing model fizzle into the air. He pinches the bridge of his nose.
The Cloak of Levitation gingerly floats by the sidelines, unsure whether its attempts at comfort would be of any help. It stays stationary.
Stephen appreciates the sentiment overall.
“So, we have no idea where Loki is, don’t we?” He speaks into the room. Which, no-- it wouldn’t be right. He’d be able to tell where Loki is on the timeline. He’s seeked him out before, back when Ragnarok was imminent. He was able to find both him and his brother, Thor.
So him not being able to find Loki means he shouldn’t be focusing on where, but when.
Stephen’s already tampered with the art of manipulating space and time. Even travel through the former (warping to the snowy Alps during his training, transporting the Odinsons to his Sanctum Sanctorum, opening portals for everyone during the battle against the Mad Titan, etcetera.), but time? Time travel? Pinpointing a singular creature in a twisting mass of realities, being able to transport them and warp them from one universe onto another as well as through whatever stations of time necessary to reach him here? Intact? By his power alone?
He needs a drink.
Soft caresses on his shoulders morph into a warm embrace as the Cloak settles on his form, offering a grounding presence.
(That’s right, you idiot. You don’t need a drink. What you need is a tracker. You need help.)
Stephen eyes the empty space where the miniature multiverse stood a few minutes ago. He needs Thor.
But Thor’s in space.
And space isn’t the same as some sidewalk in Norway.
He doesn’t have the time (funny) to work on searching for him. He needs a dependable ally now.
Stephen thinks for a moment. The Cloak gives a reassuring squeeze.
With a wave of a hand and orange runes flashing from his palms, the miniature multiverse comes to life once more. The green glow of the Time Stone helps Stephen effectively mold the model in real time, as it continues to manifest.
Decidedly, Stephen tracks down his own timeline (Not that hard. It’s that big, intimidating string of white at the center of it all) and tries his best to pinpoint the exact location where the chaos sprung.
He draws a blank.
His face sours and he scourges the model again. There had to be a catalyst somewhere. Anywhere on the timeline. There’s nowhere else to be-- to exist. Time is a (fucked up) spectrum of existence. There’s nothing outside of it. Nothing. It’s only logical.
Stephen pauses.
If he was dealing with the Norse god of mischief, then should he really be drawing his conclusions from logic?
God, what if…
His eyes chance a glance at the very edges of his model, the immense strand elongating across the space of his study, bending this way and that to accommodate to the barriers. Stephen narrows his eyes, catching a glimpse of… something... and strides toward it.
Once standing before it, he notices it. At the very tip, no branches are produced, It just wiggles and slides across the air, but it never births anything. It’s like a pocket. Where time is at standstill, never actively growing.
The orange of his runes change into an emerald green as he zooms in on that particular spot. Then he feels it.
Chaos.
With newly acquired conviction (and one hell of an infuriating grudge to uphold on the damn god), he magics his robes onto his person and vanishes.
It’s a wasteland.
“And who are you supposed to be?”
And there’s a child here. With a crocodile.
“He’s an alligator!” The kid barks out when Stephen dumbfoundedly points it out. “And he’s sensitive about it, don’t be rude.”
“Apologies.” Stephen says because, honestly? What the fuck.
The alligator hisses. The kid looks up at him again, “He says you should count your days.”
“Lovely.”
This was both everything and not at all what he was expecting. He wishes he had that drink now.
‘What’s your name?” The kid asks, a bit nastily if Stephen is allowed to acknowledge it.
“I’m Stephen Strange,” He says. “You wouldn’t happen to know a certain green trickster with an overwhelming amount of power and a lethal amount of a god complex?”
“Oh, do you mean Loki?”
Well that was conveniently quick. “Yes.”
“You’re looking at him.”
A blink. “Pardon?”
“My name. It’s Loki.” The kid nods his head toward the alligator. “His name is Loki too.”
“Uh huh.”
“Say, are you friends with Mobius? Did you fix everything? Kill the Timekeepers?”
What in the world was this kid saying. “I’m not following-- Who’s Mobius?”
The kid-- Loki, he says-- studies him for a beat. Then, “So you’re not aligned with Mobius?”
“Uh--”
“Perfect.” Loki sags into himself and absentmindedly pats the alligator’s (also Loki) head. “Just perfect. I knew they weren’t coming back for me.”
“They?” Stephen manages.
“Mobius, Sylvie and Loki.”
His interest piques at that. “Another Loki?”
Kid Loki (might as well) nods.
“What does he look like?”
“Oh, about your height, black hair like mine, wearing a white shirt and tie and brandishing my dagger I lent him. Won’t be getting that back either.”
“White shirt and tie?”
“Uh huh.”
Stephen expected a fancy black suit to accompany that description, but this was good enough. “Know where they went?”
“To face Alioth, but he’s dead, so I don’t know where else. Maybe beyond that, but whatever place was there is gone.”
Lovely. “Know who might know, then?”
Kid Loki tilts his head. “Well, Sylvie was off with Loki, so I guess Mobius would know.”
Mobius, huh? “And his location? Know it?”
“The TVA.”
“And that is…”
“Outside of time, naturally.”
Well.
That settled it, then.
“Great, thanks, kid.” Stephen goes to walk off. Then pauses midstep.
He turns. “Got anywhere to return to?”
Kid Loki’s face grows cold. The alligator Loki hisses and whips its tail out. “No, not really.”
Stephen hums. “Anywhere you want to be then?”
Kid Loki’s eyes blink in surprise, the edges eroding at the question. “Uh…” He exchanges glances with his companion (or at least, he thinks he does. It’s an alligator). “Asgard.” Is his answer.
Stephen nods and produces a portal with a swish of his arm. It hovers above the ground, like a tempting beacon. Kid Loki watches it in awe.
“Okay, walk right through. It’ll take you where you want to be.”
The kid hesitates. “Are you sure?”
There’s really no good answer for that at the moment. Time has shattered and a billion different Asgards are being created by the second. He is positive, however, that the intentions behind his spell can lead the kid to a desired location. Maybe an Asgard missing a Loki of their own. That’d be fun.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
Both the kid and the alligator end up going through the portal. Kid Loki stands before it, a heavy weight actively being released before his very eyes. He looks up at Stephen. “Thanks.”
Stephen nods. They go through; the portal closes.
Now, he’s gotten valuable information. His trickster is still on the run, but now he’s got a potential Loki tracker.
Mobius of the TVA.
Should be easy to find him.
It’s not.
“God damn it!” Stephen slams his hands on his desk, sending papers filled with dried patches of ink, spells and enchantments fluttering to the ground. “Why can’t I find the damn TVA?”
The thing about being a Sorcerer Supreme is that you’re able to control and supervise over all of time. Outside of it, though?
Not so much.
He draws out a heavy sigh as he sinks into his chair, sunken eyes getting tired of looking at white and orange and yellow and red.
He’s tried everything. And still he can’t break out of the barrier of time. It’s very upsetting.
The Cloak of Levitation brushes at his cheek. Stephen lets it for a few seconds before batting it away.
Just what was he doing wrong?
Was he looking at this from the wrong angle?
Stephen twists his head to the side as he eyes the model, just for the hell of it.
It doesn’t get any better.
He hides his face in his hands and groans into them. Just how was he going to find this Mobius guy if he couldn’t even break out of the timeline territory to search for him? Unbelievable.
The Eye of Agamotto hums at his chest. Confused, he looks down at it. It hums again, glowing a tad bit brighter.
Now he knows some Infinity Stones work by the bearer’s intentions and will. It’s how you even manage to acquire the Soul Stone in the first place. So this little behavior was peculiar.
Stephen watches it for a few more seconds before the multiverse model suddenly lurches into itself and starts rapidly zooming into a particular point on the original timeline. He watches shell-shocked as it zooms and zooms and zooms and zooms and finally-- it stops.
He lifts a palm to examine it.
Fremont, Ohio; 2018.
“Oh my God.” Stephen awes. “Mobius.”
He steps out into what he quickly deems as a highschool. More precisely, one of its hallways.
There’s voices coming in from behind a shut door to his right.
Well, Stephen Strange doesn’t have time for fucking doors.
He kicks it open.
About five heads turn his way, two women and three men; Three of them wear armor, a lady stands in pink and a man in a beige suit sits by the desk.
The man in the suit balks. “Doctor Strange?’’
Stephen points at him. “Mobius, I presume?”
The man hesitates before nodding.
“Perfect, we’re already well acquainted, then.” Stephen lifts both hands. “You’re coming with me.”
“What?” Mobius gets out before a portal opens beneath him and he falls through with a shout.
Everyone else gapes at the spot where he once stood. They turn to Stephen.
“Right,” He says. “Bye.”
He leaves.
“Wow,” Mobius drawls out a long whistle. “This place is magnificent.”
“Yes, wonderful,” Stephen vaguely responds occupied with arranging his desk and grabbing at the according papers. Damn it, where was the summoning sigil? “Don’t touch anything.”
“Hm?”
Stephen turns. Mobius stands by the bookshelves, patting the Cloak of Levitation as if it were some kind of cat.
Baffling.
“Right, uh--” He clears his throat. “So, Mobius….?”
“Just Mobius,” The man scratches at the back of the collar, like he would to a dog’s ears. The Cloak trills and ripples with joy. Stephen chooses to acknowledge exactly none of this. “Mobius M. Mobius, if you’re looking for the finer details on the print.”
“Let me guess, the M stands for Mobius as well?”
“Wow, that was quite a brain workout, you sure you don’t wanna sit down for that one?”
Okay, wise guy. “What do you know about Loki Odinson?”
The effect the name has is immediate. Mobius’s hand stills and he shoots Stephen a (wait what?) hopeful look. “You’re looking for ‘im?”
“Yes.” Stephen watches the man closely. “I’ve been told you’ve worked closely with the man before. I need your assistance finding him?”
“Who told you this?”
The corner of Stephen’s lips twitches. “Another kid who goes by ‘Loki’ and his crocodile—.”
“Alligator.”
”… Right. They said you were helping them out with something alongside our Loki and a third party.”
Mobius digests the information and heaves a sigh. He grabs a chair and sits down. “Poor kid. Must be so scared all alone.”
“Hardly. Honestly, he was pretty upfront and confident when confronting me.”
Mobius gives him an amused look. “He is a Loki.”
Which, okay. “So can you help me or not? We’re kind of on a ticking time bomb here.”
“Thought time already blew up three ways to Sunday.”
Oh God, it’s like dealing with the trickster god himself. “We have to find Loki so he can assist in cleaning up his massive cosmic mess.”
“Hey, now,” Mobius’s smile stales. “None of this was on purpose. Don’t go blaming this on him.”
Stephen raises a brow. Someone actively speaking out for the god? That was new. “Well, regardless, he was directly involved. I need him here and now before the situation gets worse.”
Mobius pushes forward from leaning into the chair and leans his elbows on his knees, deep in thought. He runs a hand down his face. “Yeah, okay, I get it. I’ve been working on my own end to try and find him too. Couldn’t. All of a sudden a bunch of Nexus Events were bursting all across the Sacred Timeline and the process of pinpointing a singular one’s activity suddenly became impossible.” He sighs. “I have no idea where he could be. Sylvie either.”
“Third party?” Stephen asks.
“Another Loki. A variant.”
A pause. “From another timeline?”
“Bingo.”
Right, okay. He could work with this. “You speak like you’re really familiar with our Loki's mannerisms.”
In a baffling moment that Stephen has no idea how to interpret, Mobius blushes. “I mean, I’m an analyst, so…”
Because that explains everything. “And being an analyst means you… what-- study Loki for a living?”
Mobius honest-to-God nods. “Yup.”
Huh.
“Think you can analyze this then?” Stephen procures the multiverse model one more time. Mobius lets out another awed whistle.
“Branched timeline?” He asks, standing up and walking over. At Stephen’s nod, he lifts a tentative hand to a particular branch. It twists and weaves through his fingers and continues on its path toward the towering circular window. “A beauty.”
“It’s chaos.”
Mobius sighs dreamily. “Yeah, I know.”
They watch the branch reach the basking early morning sunlight streaming through the glass. The white wisps morph into gold.
“Loki is chaos manifested into a living breathing being.” Mobius starts. “I’ve always been uh, entranced by the idea that such a wild concept could be compacted into one singular person. It was nuts and absolutely amazing.”
Stephen isn’t sure Mobius means to sound so fond, but he chooses not to point it out anyways.
“It got me thinking, Hey, Mobius, someone like the Norse god of Mischief couldn’t possibly walk around existence without rippling new bursts of unpredictable realities in his wake right? This being is made of something so pure, so untainted-- there’s no way it wouldn’t leave a mark. So, lil rookie Mobius thought some more-- I thought to myself, how different could their Nexus Events be to the rest of creation? Would they be as mundane as choosing a different ice cream flavor for dessert or are they as fascinating as the mere act of existing?”
Mobius looks over at Stephen. “What I mean is: if we study them closely we might be able to distinguish and categorize Nexus Events by their chaos energy. And if we manage that--”
“We track down the highest spikes.” Stephen muses, surprisingly impressed. “In other words, we find Loki.”
“Yeah.”
“And this hasn’t worked for you before?”
“I mean…” That amused quirk of his lips is back. It reminds Stephen so much of Loki, he quickly finds it annoying. “This kinda happened just a little over a while ago. I still have a busted shoulder from wrestling around with a former coworker of mine in her office.”
“Fair.” Stephen lets his magic runes go green. The amulet allows him to single out Nexus Events as they appear and, soon enough, billions of green dots start littering the predominant white. “We’ll go along with your theory.”
“Alright. I can always go back to HQ and call for backup. Heavens know those guys want pay back for their losses too.”
“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”
Okay. Alright. This was starting to shape up. They had a game plan, something to pull through. Enough to keep Stephen’s panic at bay and enough for him to think up more plans for the future. It wasn’t enough to save reality as we know it.
But Mobius would have to be enough for now.
“Hey, this totally means I’m an Avenger now, right?”
Stephen sighs and walks off without a word, his Cloak close behind.
Until they find Loki, it’d have to be enough.