save a steed, ride a sorceror

Imagine living for over a thousand years, committing intergalactic crimes, then one random underpaid TVA clerk with a monotone voice suddenly introduces the possibility that, oh, by the way, what if you were secretly a robot this whole time? And Loki, who has always carried himself with the absolute certainty of a god, pauses. Like. “Wait. What if I am?”

He hears that question and immediately does a full mental diagnostic. Have I ever glitched? Ever felt oddly mechanical? Experienced an unusual fondness for oil? Maybe he’s too good at lying. Too good at surviving. What if that’s just the programming?

The TVA worker just moves on. He doesn’t elaborate. no reassurances. theres no safety net. Just the terrifying possibility that he might get instantly vaporized for something completely outside his control.

Id like to note, his hesitation isn’t even just some random existential crisis, it’s trauma-informed. This man already lived through the experience of waking up one day and realizing he wasn’t who he thought he was.

He grew up thinking he was a prince, a god, Odin’s rightful son, only to find out he was actually a stolen relic of war. A Jotun. A creature he’d been taught to hate.

He thought he knew himself before, and he was wrong. What if he’s wrong again? What if theres something else about himself thats been hidden? If he didn’t realize he was a Frost Giant, whats stopping him from not realizing he’s actually some highly advanced synthetic being?

It’s not just a funny existential gag, it’s a callback to one of the most devastating truths of Loki’s existence:

He has never really known who he is.

It’s the muscle memory of having his entire identity ripped out from under him. It’s the learned fear of asking, What am I, actually?

Because the last time he asked that question, the answer ruined him.