Loki's magic is a green so close to the time stone's energy that Stephen has to fight back the memories that want to flash over the back of his eyelids every time he blinks. He doesn't remember every single moment of those fourteen million futures he saw, the human mind isn't equipped for that, but he remembers the broad strokes -- and little memories crop up here and there, random reminders prompted by random imagery, like dreams half-forgotten.
He takes the Eye back, and slips it over his head once more. Agamotto was many things, and the inherent structure of his magic is enormously helpful. It looks like it helped Loki, too. Good.
"How is that a God of Mischief became the God of Stories?" Stephen retorts, voice dry.
He makes his way down the steps, the thrumming power of the timelines behind him. If he had more time, he'd love to stay and study this -- imagine, standing at the seat of all time, beyond time, witnessing the very structure of countless timelines as branches upon Yggdrasil. This is a sight very, very few would ever see.
"Time magic is admittedly finicky and dangerous," he finally answers, "but I wielded the time stone for a long time. I'm better suited than most to find my way here." Stephen taps the end of the Staff of Realms against the stone floor. "A relic helps, too. It cuts a path to the world between realms." Which, for a novice, would be asking to be punted into some inescapable black nothingness between worlds. Fortunately, he's not a novice. "As long as you know where you're going, of course."
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He takes the Eye back, and slips it over his head once more. Agamotto was many things, and the inherent structure of his magic is enormously helpful. It looks like it helped Loki, too. Good.
"How is that a God of Mischief became the God of Stories?" Stephen retorts, voice dry.
He makes his way down the steps, the thrumming power of the timelines behind him. If he had more time, he'd love to stay and study this -- imagine, standing at the seat of all time, beyond time, witnessing the very structure of countless timelines as branches upon Yggdrasil. This is a sight very, very few would ever see.
"Time magic is admittedly finicky and dangerous," he finally answers, "but I wielded the time stone for a long time. I'm better suited than most to find my way here." Stephen taps the end of the Staff of Realms against the stone floor. "A relic helps, too. It cuts a path to the world between realms." Which, for a novice, would be asking to be punted into some inescapable black nothingness between worlds. Fortunately, he's not a novice. "As long as you know where you're going, of course."