Loki cried silently for a long time.
Even knowing none of this could happen to him—that his timeline had diverged so fundamentally that this fate was impossible—grief and rage still consumed him.
Because what Mobius had shown him was the so-called Sacred Timeline. The official script. The predetermined narrative that the Time Variance Authority enforced across infinite realities.
These self-appointed managers of the multiverse had decided everyone's roles. Written everyone's endings. Determined who lived, who died, who suffered, who triumphed.
But on what grounds?
Why should someone else decide my fate?
By what right do these bureaucrats in their comfortable offices have the authority to determine how others live and die?
Why should good people suffer under this absurd arrangement?
He could imagine it now—without Ben's intervention, without that brutal awakening on Sakaar, the pathetic existence shown on screen would have been his past, present, and future. An eternity of jealousy, betrayal, and ultimately meaningless death.
He couldn't accept it.
But he didn't become hysterical as Mobius had clearly expected. Perhaps because he'd finally learned that impotent rage was the most useless emotion in the universe. Screaming accomplished nothing. Planning did.
"I'm glad you were able to calm down," Mobius said, studying him carefully. "And the reason I showed you all this—your entire predetermined life—is because I need your help."
"You need my help?" Loki glanced at him, genuine surprise cutting through the grief. "You have such tremendous power. You arbitrarily decide the fates of countless beings across infinite realities. And you need help from a nobody like me?"
"It's not arbitrary interference," Mobius corrected, though his tone suggested he'd had this argument many times before. "Everything the Time Variance Authority does is for the stability of the multiverse. To prevent multiversal war. To protect the Sacred Timeline from those who would destroy it."
He began pacing the small screening room, hands in his suit trouser pockets.
"As for you specifically—we've encountered a troublesome time criminal. Someone who's committed numerous temporal violations, but we haven't been able to apprehend them. Therefore, we need someone who understands this individual well enough to predict their behavior."
Mobius stopped, turning to face Loki directly.
"You feel that fate is unfair," he said. "That villains like you exist only to make heroes look good. That you're destined to fail, destined to die, destined to be nothing more than a supporting character in someone else's story."
His expression softened slightly.
"But now there's an opportunity for you to change your destiny. You can join the Time Variance Authority. Help us catch time criminals. And in exchange, we'll spare you from being pruned. We'll let you live."
Mobius was completely unaware of the irony—that he himself was a time criminal, memory-wiped and enslaved. That every employee in the Time Variance Authority had been kidnapped from their own timelines and forced into service.
He genuinely believed he was offering Loki mercy. An unprecedented exception.
"Alright."
Loki's voice was flat, controlled. He pressed his lips into a thin line.
"I accept."
Regardless of whether the TVA was connected to the collision crisis. Regardless of whether Professor Paradox wanted him to become the God of Stories. He'd already made his decision.
He was going to destroy the entire Time Variance Authority.
But forcing the issue wouldn't work. The suppression collar around his neck alone rendered him helpless against the organization's temporal technology. And then there was that "Mad Ben" character Mobius had warned him about—almost certainly another variant of Ben Parker.
I must be insane, Loki thought darkly. Agreeing to infiltrate an organization that employs multiple versions of Ben Tennyson. This is going to end so badly.
But this was his glorious purpose.
Not dying at Thanos's hands according to someone else's script. Not being a pathetic puppet dancing on predetermined strings.
This.
"So what do you need me to do?" Loki asked, his tone cooperative. "And who exactly is this time criminal you want me to catch?"
"You," Mobius said simply.
"Me? But I'm already—"
Understanding hit instantly.
Mobius was talking about other Lokis. Variants from different timelines who'd committed their own temporal violations.
But the implications made Loki's mind race.
He and Thor both originated from a universe that didn't conform to the Sacred Timeline—a reality where Ben Parker existed and had fundamentally altered the course of events. Logically, they should both be pruned. Their entire timeline should be severed.
Wait.
If the Sacred Timeline is supposedly fixed and absolute, how is the collision crisis even possible? How are entire alternate Earths manifesting if everything is predetermined?
Confusion settled over his thoughts like fog.
Perhaps the Time Variance Authority's authority wasn't as absolute as Mobius believed. Perhaps there were entire swaths of the multiverse beyond their control.
The thought was oddly comforting.
After Mobius finished explaining the specifics of the mission, the two left the screening room. The suppression collar had been removed from Loki's neck—a show of trust that the God of Mischief filed away for future exploitation. His prison uniform had been replaced with a standard TVA suit, identical to what Mobius wore.
He followed the agent through endless corridors, catching glimpses through massive windows of the world beyond the TVA's walls. A futuristic metropolis stretched to the horizon—all gleaming spires and impossibly advanced architecture.
"All of this belongs to the Time Variance Authority?" Loki asked.
"Of course," Mobius replied. "We're responsible for managing countless multiverses. A few people aren't enough for that kind of operation."
They continued walking, turning a corner—
And nearly collided with two figures approaching from the opposite direction.
Two individuals with identical faces but drastically different presentations.
The first wore a red jacket over black clothes, his hair bleached pure white and styled into sharp spikes. His posture radiated arrogance, and on his wrist gleamed a watch that made Loki's blood run cold—similar to Ben's Omnitrix, but with a different color scheme.
Albedo
The second wore a white and green hoodie, black hair, his expression twisted into something between a sneer and a snarl. Sinister didn't begin to cover it. His eyes held the gleam of someone who enjoyed causing pain. He also wore a watch.
Bad Ben
Two more Bens!
Loki's heart hammered in his chest. His breathing quickened despite his attempts to remain calm.
Mobius immediately bowed low, pulling Loki down with him.
"Lord Albedo," he said quickly. "Lord Ben."
Albedo's face twisted with fury, clearly about to say something scathing—
But the second figure cut in with dripping sarcasm: "Call me Benjamin. Don't you know that Lord Albedo can't stand being associated with the great Ben name?"
Albedo's rage exploded instantly. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the red Ultimatrix on his wrist in all its glory.
"Then let's settle this right now!" he snarled.
"Bring it on!" Bad Ben shot back, displaying his own watch with obvious eagerness. The prospect of violence lit up his face with genuine excitement.
Mobius stood frozen between them, completely helpless in the face of this escalating confrontation.
Fortunately, a third party intervened.
"You two are really noisy."
A new figure emerged from a side corridor—another Ben variant, this one hunched over and wrapped in the hood of a black sweatshirt. Heavy dark circles hung beneath their eyes, giving them the appearance of someone who hadn't slept in weeks. Or possibly months.
Nega Ben
As soon as he appeared, both Albedo and Bad Ben—though clearly still furious—lowered their arms and stopped arguing.
The power dynamic was unmistakable.
"How long are you going to dawdle?" Another voice, harsh and grating.
Mad Ben stalked around the corner, his punk aesthetic even more aggressive up close. Denim jacket covered in skull patterns. Hair spiked into gravity-defying points. An aura of barely-restrained violence.
When he passed Loki and Mobius, his eyes fixed on them with predatory focus.
Mobius immediately grabbed Loki's head and forced them both into deep bows.
"Hmph." Mad Ben's lips curled into a sneer. "Smart. At least you trash know your place."
His voice rose to a shout that echoed through the corridor.
"In my universe, you pathetic worms would be slaves! Kneeling on the ground, bowing until your foreheads bled!"
He turned his fury on the other Ben variants.
"And you lot—you're all so slow! The meeting's about to start, you unmotivated pieces of garbage. Hurry up and don't keep Lord Maltruant waiting!"
"Lord Maltruant?" Albedo scoffed, his white hair practically bristling with indignation. "That Chronosapien tick actually dares call himself our lord? We're business partners, not his subordinates!"
"Does it matter?" A new voice cut through the argument.
Eon appeared, leading a larger group of what could only be more Ben variants. His purple trench coat billowed as he walked, that same aura of dimensional distortion surrounding him like a halo.
"Stop wasting time with pointless arguments," he said, his tone weary with irritation. "Instead of bickering here, let's focus on the actual problem: how to breach that sealed universe."
Loki's mind reeled.
Sealed universe.
Ben Parker's universe.
They're trying to break into my timeline.
The full scope of the situation crystallized with horrible clarity.
The Time Variance Authority had been infiltrated—possibly conquered—by an army of evil Ben variants from across the multiverse. And they were all working together under the direction of someone called Maltruant to break through the barrier that Alien X had established around Ben Parker's reality.
[*Editor Note: To differentiate between Ben variant in dialog since I don want other to call him Lord Mad Ben or Lord Nega Ben, I decided to address some of them based on their Archetype.
Mad Ben -> Warlord
Nega Ben -> Pale Prince
Bad Ben -> Benjamin]
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