"I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about a knife for drama's sake." But he's not here to deliberately give anyone a heart attack. Yet. He knows that there's going to be a bruise around the knuckle soon, but it won't matter. Since it won't impact his mobility, since he can't feel it, won't flinch if he leans on it.

Blessings and curses. Strange is...trying. He's trying where Mobius gets the idea that he perhaps used to not try at all, so that's something. And the admittance of hubris. That brings a little smirk to his lips.

"So you were a healer before. No, I don't think you could do anything about this until you could find a way to break the hold of the magic of, presumably, old elf gods. Or something with the power to simply...take." A memory. An eye. A skill. Strange is at least tangentially aware that Mobius isn't the only one who came back changed. "As far as I understand, physically everything works fine. But there's some very clean disconnect of sensation that probably has nothing to do with the physical nerves themselves."

He's also not sure he'd want anyone cutting into his hands in the manner Strange had his. "Did you use magic in your healing as well?"