Loki hums softly, considering. The threads of magic he has left in him are scant. If he were to draw on his own life force, pull the energy from his own body, perhaps, yes, he could accomplish all of this but that takes much, much longer to renew. It isn't worth it.

“I can take all of what remains here or I can take us back, but not both.” The ultimatum. Though not much of one. As long as they hurry, he doubts they're likely to be attacked again when trying to leave. That is, after all, the point of these things, he expects: to act as a deterrent, not simply a weapon. If that were not so, they'd have attacked the town already.

“Your choice.” Either way, he intends to take a nap once they get back. Preferably a very long and wholly uninterrupted one.

“I suggest you make it quickly,” he adds, head tilted faintly to one side as he listens for any signs of further activity.

Either is simple enough, banish the corpses of the robots to the place between things and call them back later, when needed, or banish all of them there and pull them out elsewhere. It's simply that trying to account for too many things at once is draining, and a deity Loki may have been, but he's organic, too. Not infallible. Certainly not invulnerable or omnipotent. Right now, mostly just sore and tired and feeling, for once, something of his age.