Ruho yelled into the empty air, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "LOKI! If you're out there! If you can hear me! I'm open for business! I need help and I'm willing to make a deal!"
"Well," the smooth voice said from directly behind him, "that's music to my ears."
Ruho spun around so fast he nearly fell over again.
Sitting in the adjacent chair—a chair that had definitely been empty two seconds ago, was a man. Or something shaped like a man. He had extraordinarily long hair, comically long, flowing down past his shoulders and pooling on the floor around the chair like a silk waterfall. The color shifted as Ruho watched, dark brown, then black, then with hints of red, never quite settling on one shade.
His eyes were piercing blue, the kind of blue that seemed to look through you rather than at you. His face was androgynous, beautiful in a way that made it hard to tell if he was traditionally handsome or just striking. High cheekbones, sharp jawline, but with soft features that could read as masculine or feminine depending on the angle.
He wore a medieval tunic, deep green with intricate embroidery along the edges, with those ridiculous puffed sleeves that looked like someone had stuffed balloons into the fabric. The long sleeves extended past his hands, covering them completely, giving him an almost childlike appearance despite his obviously ancient nature. Long dark pants completed the outfit, and he sat with one leg crossed over the other, completely relaxed, a cheeky grin on his face.
"Fárbautason," the figure said, inclining his head slightly. "Though most people know me as Loki. Retired trickster god, well, semi-retired. I still cause problems occasionally, old habits die hard. Currently host of four different game shows, looking to make you my fifth project."
Ruho's mouth was dry. This was actually Loki. THE Loki. Norse mythology, Marvel movies, thousands of years of stories and legends, sitting in his living room looking like he'd just walked out of a Renaissance fair.
"Four shows?" Ruho managed to ask.
"Oh yes," Loki said, his grin widening. "Ragnarok Royale, you've heard about that one. Twelve billion viewers every six months. Then there's Dragon Tamer, we throw mortals into a pit with increasingly dangerous dragons and see if they can befriend them before getting incinerated. Very popular with the younger demographic. Then I've got Realm Runner, where contestants race through the Nine Realms solving puzzles while being chased by various mythological creatures. And finally, there's Chaos Theory, a sort of... reality-warping game where the rules change every episode and contestants have to adapt or die."
"That's..." Ruho tried to process the sheer scale of what Loki was describing. "That's a lot of content."
"I'm a very busy god," Loki said with a theatrical sigh. "But I always have room for special projects. And you, Ruho, are very special indeed."
"What's your offer?" Ruho asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Loki leaned forward, his long sleeves sliding back slightly to reveal elegant hands with long fingers. "Streaming. Live streaming, to be specific. We set up cameras, divine cameras, invisible to you, always recording. People watch you do your basic life things. Surviving. Fighting. Eating that crocodile meat you've been slow-cooking. Whatever you do, they watch."
"That sounds like a nightmare," Ruho said flatly.
"That sounds like REVENUE," Loki corrected. "Because here's the beautiful part, viewers can donate. Real-time donations of divine credits, which I convert into actual prizes for you. Someone donates fifty credits? You get a health potion. Someone donates five hundred? You get a magical weapon. Someone donates five thousand? You get a legendary skill or a divine blessing. The more entertaining you are, the more people donate, the more resources you get. It's a self-sustaining cycle of entertainment and survival."
Ruho's eyes widened. "So I could actually get help? Real help? Not just 'good luck, figure it out yourself' but actual tools and weapons and—"
"Buffs, items, skills, blessings, access to information, sometimes even direct divine intervention if the donation is big enough," Loki confirmed. "Complete freedom to use your resources however you want. No artificial restrictions, no 'you have to complete X challenge first' nonsense. Just pure, capitalistic divine entertainment."
"DON'T SIGN ANYTHING!" Tyrix's voice exploded into the room. "RUHO! Whatever he's offering, DON'T SIGN! There's ALWAYS a catch with Loki!"
"Oh, Tyrix," Loki said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Still bitter about the ratings, I see."
"You STOLE my concept for Chaos Theory!" Tyrix shouted. "That was MY idea and you—"
"I improved upon a mediocre concept and made it wildly successful," Loki said smoothly. "There's a difference. Now, if you'll excuse us, the adults are talking business."
Ruho held up a hand. "Wait. Tyrix is right. What's the catch? There's always a catch."
Loki's grin didn't fade, but his eyes sharpened slightly, showing approval. "Smart boy. Yes, there's a requirement. I need at least twenty hours of footage per week. Minimum. That's twenty hours of you doing something interesting enough to keep viewers engaged. If you spend all week hiding in your castle meditating, that's boring, viewership drops, donations dry up, and our contract becomes worthless."
"Twenty hours a week," Ruho repeated. "That's... that's a lot."
"That's less than three hours a day," Loki pointed out. "And considering you're fighting for survival anyway, most of what you do will count. Hunting, exploring, fighting pirates, all excellent content. You'd have to actively TRY to be boring to not meet the requirement."
"And I can still work with other gods?" Ruho asked. "Other shows? Other deals?"
Loki sighed, and for the first time he looked slightly annoyed. "Yes. I'm not asking for exclusivity. You can appear on Tyrix's little game shows, you can take deals with other deities, you can pray to whoever you want. I just want my twenty hours of streaming content per week. That's it."
"That seems too good to be true," Ruho said suspiciously.
"It's a mutually beneficial arrangement," Loki said. "You get resources to survive. I get content to monetize. Everyone wins. Well, except Tyrix, but I don't particularly care about his feelings."
"RUHO!" Tyrix was still protesting in the background. "This is a TRAP! It's ALWAYS a trap with him!"
Loki rolled his eyes. "For our first contract, just a simple six-month trial to see if this streaming concept works, I'll even sweeten the deal. Three legendary skills. Immediately. Just for signing. No waiting, no challenges, no game show nonsense. Just three legendary-tier abilities to help you survive the next six months."
Ruho's breath caught. "Three legendary skills? Just like that?"
"Just like that," Loki confirmed. "I trust you, Ruho. I can see your potential. I know you'll create excellent content and make this partnership profitable for both of us. So here's what I propose—a six-month streaming contract. Twenty hours minimum per week. You get viewer donations converted to prizes. I give you three legendary skills upfront. And all I need is a handshake. No complicated paperwork, no divine contracts written in blood, just a simple agreement between two people who want to help each other."
He extended his hand, the long sleeve falling back to reveal pale skin and those elegant fingers.
Ruho stared at the offered hand. This was good. Too good. Way too good. Three legendary skills. Real resources. A chance to actually survive instead of just desperately scrambling.
But it was Loki. The god of lies and mischief. The trickster who'd been causing problems for thousands of years.
"Tyrix," Ruho said quietly. "Is Loki trustworthy?"
"OF COURSE NOT!" Tyrix screamed. "He's literally the god of LIES! It's in his JOB DESCRIPTION! Don't shake his hand! Don't make ANY deals with—"
"That's not what I asked," Ruho interrupted. "I asked if he's trustworthy. Not if he's honest. There's a difference."
There was a pause.
"He'll honor the letter of any contract he makes," Azirel said slowly, his voice thoughtful. "That's actually true. Loki doesn't break deals outright. But he will twist them, exploit loopholes, interpret terms in ways you didn't intend. The question isn't whether he'll honor the deal. It's whether you're smart enough to see the traps in it."
Ruho looked at Loki's offered hand again. The god's expression hadn't changed—still that cheeky grin, still completely relaxed, waiting patiently.
"Twenty hours per week," Ruho said slowly. "Viewer donations converted to prizes. Three legendary skills upfront. Six-month contract. And I can still work with other gods."
"That's the deal," Loki confirmed.
"What happens after six months?"
"We renegotiate," Loki said. "If it's working out, we extend. If it's not, we part ways. No hard feelings either way."
Ruho's mind raced. He needed help. Desperately needed help. Five hundred pirates were coming. The Imperial Coast Guard was coming. He had basically no resources except a castle and some cooked crocodile meat.
This deal could save his life.
Or it could damn him in ways he couldn't even see yet.
Loki's hand remained extended, patient, waiting.
His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, and his grin widened slightly as he spoke.
"So," Loki said, his voice smooth as silk. "We got a deal... friend?"