Loki shut out the please. While they were needles in his heart, they weren't useful. He needed to concentrate. He needed to focus. He needed to fight. The ghosts were flooding him now. A few he had wounded but their attacks gnawed at his strength. He was backing off and losing ground. A dead giveaway that this was a lost fight.
He waited as long as he could before he disengaged for good. He had gained them a few minutes. That would be all he needed if his strength was still enough. He anchored his magic on his granddaughter. The blood connection provided an easy bond. A second later he appeared next to her.
"I will bring you back home," he said. The ragged shape of the ghost morphed back into a physical form. Bones at first, then muscles before skin was placed on top of it. At the same time his skin appeared, clothes materialised around him. But he could not recover fully. His strength was lacking, patches of skin missing and even his jawbone visible beneath a thin layer of grey muscles.