Loki's grin was the sort that curled at the edges like a blade. "I didn't expect you to find me here," he purred.
"You're an idiot," Ryuuto said, stepping forward. "Satellites exist. Show your face and you can be located. I know you've been using the scepter to stir trouble. Hand it over."
"And if I refuse?" Loki said, amusement dripping from every word.
"Then don't say I didn't warn you twice."
"Then come and take it!" Loki taunted.
Ryuuto blurred. When it comes to raw movement, very few humans can match him—especially not after he'd integrated those crazy physical upgrades he'd snagged. He found the space between Loki's arrogance and pressed a palm to air.
The palm met...nothing.
Illusion. Of course it was illusion.
Loki loved tricks, and Ryuuto had just slapped an image. The real Loki had to be nearby—illusion range isn't infinite. In this exposed cliffside, nowhere to hide, the god couldn't have wandered far.
Ryuuto's face tightened. He launched off the cliff, wind tearing at his jacket.
Earth Style — Light & Heavy Rock Technique!
He hovered on the gusts, eyes scanning the rockface. He'd been duped into hitting a phantom. Time to flush the real thing.
Ninjutsu — Shadow Clone Technique!
Twenty copies split off like ripples. Each clone fanned out, combing the cliffside and the coursing rocks. Loki wouldn't slip away this time—not on Ryuuto's watch.
"Found him!" one clone reported seconds later. "Hiding in a sea cave about ten meters below."
"Got it." Ryuuto dove.
A wave-pounded hollow had carved a shallow cave into the cliff—exactly the kind of place a god would hide if he wanted drama. Loki crouched inside, pressed to damp stone, white light of the scepter reflecting like cold fire. He'd already vaporized one clone with a beam; his palms shook with effort and fear.
From the day Loki had first walked among gods and mortals, he had never felt an animal dread like this. Avengers? He could handle them. Odin? He'd survived his judgement. But Ryuuto—this kid who carried a hundred conflicting powers like a storm—felt like a predator Loki couldn't read.
Sand underfoot betrayed approaching steps—Ryuuto was close.
Loki rose, staff leveled. A jagged beam spat from the scepter and shredded the air where a clone had stood. He screamed a challenge, pouring everything into attack.
Too late.
The real Ryuuto had slipped inside while Loki aimed at shadows. He leaned, hands folded across his chest, expression annoyingly casual.
"You know," Ryuuto said, watching Loki fumble with the staff, "if you brightened your beam a little, you'd get a nicer visual effect. Like—Sakura petals." He hummed, deadpan. "This cave is short though, so I'll just make you produce the petals myself."
Loki whirled—and Ryuuto's grip closed on his neck.
Ryuuto hauled the god upright until Loki's back hit stone. He was close enough to smell the faint copper of fear. "You're the weakest god I've seen," Ryuuto said. "Not even a real god—just a skinny Jotun kid who got adopted by Odin. You cry for a throne you have no right to sit on, and you hide behind magic wands because you can't win as you are."
"You ruined my plans—!" Loki spat, but his voice trembled.
"If only you had more 'ifs,'" Ryuuto cut in. "But reality isn't generous to losers."
Loki's hand darted for the scepter. In a desperate move, he pressed it to Ryuuto's chest and roared, "Be my strongest servant!"
The scepter flared—green fire washing the cave—binding, dark will pressed into the air like an order.
[Ding! System Alert: External Mind-Control Signal Detected — Source: Scepter]
Shion: "Oho? Fancy toy. Host, that's not your average puppeteer trick—don't let it bite you. I'd prefer a different kind of chaos, thanks."
Ryuuto's eyes snapped. He felt the scepter's command like a cold leash trying to crawl over his mind. It tugged, insistent and foul—as if it expected obedience.
Ryuuto's hand tightened on Loki's throat, calmness folding into a dangerous grin. "You think a stick can boss me around?" he said. "Cute."
He didn't waste time arguing with a god-made-toys. He moved—fast, close, precise. The palm that had failed before struck true now, not at phantoms, but at the staff itself. Ryuuto's fingers closed over scepter's shaft, wrenching.
Energy spat and the cave howled. Loki screamed—not the theatrical bellow of a god, but the raw, terrified cry of someone losing control.
Ryuuto's clones melted into reality behind him, dozens of silhouettes converging to guard against reinforcements. The cave brightened, dimmed, then exploded into motion.
"Say it again," Ryuuto said, voice low. "Say it and I'll break you."
Loki's eyes flashed—venom and prayer mixing. He screamed another command; the scepter pulsed like a heart. But the order came out ragged. The power tried to slip into Ryuuto's head and was met by a rock-solid refusal—an internal wall Ryuuto had trained to build like armor.
Ryuuto had no deity-blood, but he had something worse: defiance and weird, fused powersets that didn't map to any single controller. The scepter's signal had trouble translating his chaos.
With one hard twist, Ryuuto snapped the scepter's grip from Loki's fingers. Metal screamed. The beam faltered and shattered against wet stone.
Loki slumped, panting. The staff skittered across the cave floor and clattered into the surf far below.
Ryuuto let go and planted his boots on Loki's chest. He looked down at the god, not with mercy, but with the exacting chill of somebody used to taking what they wanted.
"You're done," he said. "Try to move and I'll make sure the ocean keeps you."
Loki's laugh broke into gasps. "Thor—Thor will—"
"Let him come," Ryuuto said. "Tell Thor to bring an army. Bring the sun. I'll be waiting."
The cave echoed with waves and the sullen drip of water. Outside, the sky had darkened, a storm of other wars rolling in. This moment—Loki crouched at Ryuuto's mercy—was the scariest thing the trickster had ever felt.
[Ding! Achievement Unlocked: Scepter Seizure]
Shion: "Host! Nice snatch. Don't drop the shiny thing. Also—optional: don't be turned into a mindless minion by it. I have feelings... sort of."
Ryuuto didn't smile. He reached down, snagged the staff with a practiced motion, and tucked it away—safely, out of direct reach. Then he turned, eyes sweeping the horizon like a fighter waiting for the next bell.
"Let's go," he said. "We've got more trouble to meet."