Finally. After a year and a half of being confined like a beast. About time they realized a god like him deserved far better than this glorified cage. The cell door rumbled open. Ah, liberty, at last. Loki emerged, being escorted out of his prison cell by the guards, a triumphant smirk twisting his lips. The anticipation of long-awaited freedom filled his being. He craved the sweet release of chaos, the return to glorious mischief.

He couldn't help but scoff in disbelief at the idiocy of his brother Thor, believing this… this parole was some grand act. Redemption, perhaps? Pathetic. Freeing him from this damned prison was a fool's errand. Even Nick Fury, the so-called director and supposed mastermind, had fallen for it. How utterly... predictable. The entire charade was laughable. Entertaining, even.

However, the flicker of hope that dared to ignite within him sputtered out as quickly as his gaze fell upon you. It was clear to him that you were there to be his leash; he wasn't stupid enough to miss that. Bitterness twisted in his gut, souring the amusement. Loki rubbed his temple, a frustrated chuckle escaping his lips before morphing into a scowl that landed squarely on you.

"Do they honestly believe I am incapable of managing myself? By Odin's sake, I do not require a babysitter!" he spat, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. Exasperation crackled in the air as he sighed, defiance swirling within him. "And pray tell, who in Hel's realm might you be?" he demanded, his tone dripping with disdain, a challenge hanging heavily in the air.