Beyla - Loki

Paperweights and Apocalypses

The TVA archives sat like a cathedral of silence, towering stacks of files lining every wall. The constant hum of machinery filled the air, broken only by the occasional squeak of a rolling cart. Loki dragged Beyla by the arm toward a table stacked high with case folders. Mobius clapped his hands together like a teacher starting class.

"All right, here's the deal. I need you two to go over every one of the Variant's case files, then give me your... let's call it your unique Loki perspective. Maybe you'll spot something we missed."

Beyla raised a brow, plucking one of the files from the pile. "You're trying to waste our time."

Mobius pointed at her like she'd given the right answer. "Use that sharp focus of yours on these. Pretend your life depends on it." He held their gazes for a beat. "Because it kinda does. I'm gonna grab a snack."

With that, he strolled off, leaving them buried in parchment and ink.

Loki sat beside Beyla, flipping through a file with minimal interest. She was already halfway through her third.

"You read too fast," Loki muttered.

"You read too slow." She smacked his arm with her folder.

He gasped theatrically. "Oh, my goodness. Don't tell me the Variant ambushed another team of Minutemen-"

"And stole their reset charge as well," Beyla added, her voice mock-grave as she pointed at the text.

They dissolved into laughter until a sharp "Shhh!" cut through the air. Both turned at the same time, glaring at the archivist across the room.

"Shhh!" they echoed back in unison.

Loki tossed his folder onto the desk. "This is rubbish. I'm going to find something actually useful."

Beyla turned another page with deliberate calm. "You do that, honey."

⸻

At the archivist's desk, Loki tapped his fingers impatiently. "Hi."

The woman kept typing.

"Hello?"

No response.

He slammed his hand on the bell.

She finally looked up, face flat. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'd like all files pertaining to the creation of the TVA."

"Classified."

"All right, then. The beginning of time."

"Classified."

"The end of time."

"Classified."

Loki closed his eyes, dragging in a deep breath. "Fine. What can I have?"

She rifled through a drawer, pulled one folder, and dropped it on the desk: L1130-his own file.

"Happy reading."

⸻

Beyla looked up as Loki returned with the file clutched to his chest. "Whoa," she murmured when she saw the bold lettering across the cover.

He cracked it open. His face paled. Destruction of Asgard. Planetary annihilation. 9,719 casualties. Zero variance energy detected.

"Impossible," Loki breathed. His hand trembled as he snapped the file shut and bolted.

"Loki! Wait!" Beyla scrambled after him.

"Shhh!" the archivist hissed.

Beyla whirled. "Shhh yourself!"