I’d shunted Hera’s angels to the back of my mind as a problem for later. ‘Later’ had apparently caught up with me.

I shored up a grove’s worth of branches and turned out the lights, causing Gia to look up from her efforts. Too late. A third and fourth angel landed at the foot of the dome, clinging to sticks, and I spared no remorse bashing them in the head with them. From the way they behaved, I guessed they shared some kind of hive mind, which made them both easier and harder to deal with.

Holding them off wasn’t hard. These were no creatures of Yahweh’s. I swatted at two, pinned one to the earth and stabbed it full of splinters, and hurled the last like a slingshot into the distance, where it immediately recovered and came back for more. A fifth angel dropped down from above, and in the far sky, a distant dot swerved and made tracks to my position. Others followed, swarming out of the atmospheric haze. Feeble or not, they’d draw worse attention.

And then the dots froze.

Disentangling myself from the melee, I peeled back several layers of branches to stare at the frozen bodies. The one barelling towards me had stopped mid-flight and hung there in freeze frame, white fabric folded in rigid, unmoving flutters. The insect noises had cut out with the visuals, pitching the woods into abnormal, unnerving silence.

Hi, Vishy, I said.

For the record, Vishnu stated from the depths of the soul jar, his tone clipped, I strongly disapprove of your handling of this situation.

He’s been difficult to convince, Themis added a moment later. He won’t take the story at face value.

Welcome to my world, I remarked.

You say that like it’s meant to be unfamiliar.

My mistake, I said spitefully. Who needs persuasion when they can just will people to do things?

Lay off it, Loki, Themis argued, the annoyance accompanying the words creeping up to anger. You’re one of the worst offenders. You make up your mind about people at face value all the time without allowing for what might go on behind the scenes.

Sure, I agreed. Funny how small details like slavery tend to inspire that.

Like how you’re currently complicit binding in thousands of people against their will, you mean?

It doesn’t matter, I dismissed it, somewhat uncomfortably, and watched Gia summon a new computer. It had a notable translucent sheen and a somewhat malleable appearance, the whole construct bending like a bouncy castle when she depressed the keys. We’re finally getting somewhere. How far does this stasis extend?

Globally, Vishnu answered. Accounting for Providence as well. But I want to be clear; we are only doing this until facts can be verified.

I unravelled the pocket dimension until it was once again back in its original home, ejected myself from it, and peered out from under the trees at the frozen angelic swarm. Sure, I said. All we need is time.

Don’t assume it’s a catch-all, Themis interjected. Even Vishnu can’t hold everyone. There are abilities that can break through.

Gia made an exasperated noise, put down the latest laptop – carefully – and took the hip flask out of her pocket. “This is too distracting.”

“Take a break,” I said. I held out a hand for the flask, and caught it when she threw it to me.

“From saving the world? Are we saving it?”

“You asked that before,” I said.

“But are we?”

I gazed at her with an even expression. “Generally people wait until after they miss something to start feeling nostalgic.”

Envy looked down at her hands.

“It’s a good thing,” I said encouragingly. “In any case, we’re not doing it next to a mud puddle. Want to see a miracle?”

“Another one?”

“Remember what I mentioned about holding back?” I said with a grin. “It’s only true most of the time, when it either doesn’t accomplish anything or gets in other people’s way. I’m about to do that less.” As an afterthought, I threw the soul jar back again. “Better hold on to this.”

Somewhat unnecessarily, I took a step back before shifting form, first into air. The shape I wanted was large and complex, far beyond my usual efforts. Large and flashy tended to attract the wrong sort of attention, usually, unless you did it somewhere off-world where there were no toes to step on. Some of the dimensions I’d visited in my world-hopping days had been obvious experimenting grounds for various flavours of immortals, though mostly abandoned.

I could have done this even without the place of power, though it would have been far more difficult. The connections came faster, knowledge quicker. Holding it all in my head was easier. I grew, covering ground until I could see the forest covered a stony outcrop – still no idea where – with light roads and trails here and there in between. As the ground dropped sharply away, I was able to gather the wider lay of the land; a series of steep hills, near-vertical in places, alternating between dense jungle and stone. Trickier than a flat foundation, but only a little.

Unfreeze this much, I requested of Vishnu, who grumbled but complied. I drew on the place of power to sink my hooks into the area – several hills of it – before shifting it all in an instant. Gas solidified into glass and metal, deep into the ground and quite high above it. Structures cascaded down the hillsides; roofs, towers and dubious support beams unlikely to pass a basic engineering examination. I could feel the weak points, and spent a few seconds shifting them around until they weren’t about to snap. When I could confidently say it wasn’t about to break apart, I made a final self-inspection and downsized again, stepping out of what had just been my own main entrance to greet a somewhat awed demon lord.

“Behold,” I told my audience of one, gesturing up at the glowing fortifications. “City of Loki at the end of the world, capacity nineteen thousand. Not bad, right?”

Gia didn’t answer straight away. She brushed past me into the central street, still carrying the hip flask. The mud puddle, permanently frozen into existence now, sat just outside the entrance with the tool shed in a contrast I found vaguely hilarious.

I hadn’t been sure what to pick as an aesthetic, and as a result had ended up using a bit of everything. Some of Tez’s high Aztec walls had made it in, carving deep vertical paths through the streets, though less dark and reflective. Given the seer’s current standing, I didn’t want to risk giving him an inadvertent in. Mayari’s workshop had had an influence, too, with practical industrial embellishments and hard metal trimmings. The interiors I’d based on Apollo’s cabin in the Canadian forest, modern and minimalist, and their colours had come from Durga. Lucy’s influence showed up in the way the structures jutted from the sides of the hills and their neighbours, much like in the abyss, though mine had no magic to fall back on.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Nothing had any doors, of course, which made accessibility a bit of an issue, but that had never been a problem for deities. The depowered contingent would have to make do with chauffeurs.

Gia stared at it for a moment, then brought the hip flask up to her chest. “You’re taking them out?”

I nodded. “One at a time. At least until we have help with the training.”

By now, any remaining sunlight had dipped below the horizon, outer space being the one other thing not included in stasis. Just in case the world hadn’t already been confused enough about its calendar changes. Illumination wasn’t a problem, however, the buildings shining with luminous stone. I strode ahead, waving Gia along behind me down the promenade. It was all straight lines at street level, until you looked up and saw the rest of it.

“I had no idea you could do this,” the analyst expressed, trailing behind.

“I’m chronically underestimated,” I agreed. “Although the place of power had much to do with it. And it’s not perfect. I don’t know how to do electricity, for one thing. Don’t expect WiFi. All the light is from mould. Immortal mould, in case you were thinking of using weed killers.”

She raised her eyebrows, but only for a moment. “It’s beautiful.”

“I should hope so. I spent almost a whole minute on it.”

At the end of the promenade, under a large artificial mesa supported by struts where doors would ordinarily be, lay a mild platform in the floor about the width of a few long tables. The mesa above it was hollowed out and etched with engravings, the most prominent being a long sculpture of a snake. It loomed out of the ceiling, coiling around the upper trapezium in impressive asymmetrical waves, and Gia completely missed it.

I let her walk ahead. The other end of the platform overlooked where the hill dropped off, providing an excellent view of the rest of the city. It spanned out for a few lumpy kilometres, dense and luminescent in the dark, tracing the sharp curves of the mountains. A few suspended walkways curved between them, with nothing else between the edge of the platform and a steep fall.

“We start here,” I announced. “We only bring people out after they’ve had the treatment. Vishnu and Themis go last. Any candidates you like for first pick?”

“Sil?”

“Can wait until we have someone to take care of him,” I answered. “You and I need to focus. He’s not getting any sicker in stasis.”

My first choice wasn’t an option either. Without their magic, the soul jar was the safest place for Providence’s depowered staff until we could find them a way back into bodies. I had Gia make another brainwash purge anyway on a laptop with glitching screen and one half of its keys jammed, and argued with Themis about nepotism for longer than it had taken me to build the city.

At the end of it, a slight shift in the immediate energies accompanied the release of Themis’ pick, much to the surprise of the Head of Compliance. Inari, a junior Finance manager and not the worst person to oversee a settlement, hit the ground as a small white fox, darted to the edge of the overhang, and glanced back warily.

I inclined my head. “Inari.”

The fox became a tall, androgynous figure dressed in a white suit bordering on the ceremonial, with a wide fabric belt and edges in elegant ornate trim. The change was smoother and slower than I would have done it, but still efficient. They glanced from me to Gia, then up at stone snake above. Following their example, Gia raised her chin and jumped at the sight of the edifice. I had made it loom.

“You must be Loki,” Inari addressed me, returning their gaze to eye level. “These are strange times, and people are saying strange things. Why should I join your mutiny?”

“Because the alternatives are worse,” I said, and explained. It took about an hour, judging by how far the stars moved across the sky, and I spent another two answering the expected questions. With Themis on hand to back me up, it went smoother than I’d anticipated.

“And you’re not seeking to consolidate your own influence?” Inari asked, shooting a knowing glance at the city.

“Hardly. Once Baldr’s dead, I’m not hanging around. The rest of you can do whatever you want without me in it.”

The god of industry fixed Gia with an appraising stare. “And what do you think, young bodhisattva?”

I could see my companion wanting to ask what that meant, but intimidation won out. “If Loki’s lying, he’s – she’s – they’re extraordinarily convincing.”

“Of course I’m convincing,” I said. “Though the fact I need to do any lying should tell you something about the status of this influence I supposedly wield.”

“You brought down Providence,” Inari stated flatly. “Themis and Vishnu carry out your bidding. A few days ago, you were stationed at Helpdesk with nary a shred of power. Should I not find that strange?”

“I work fast,” I shot back, and wrinkled my nose. “This is going to be a long Sunday. Assuming it is still Sunday. You do realise I did it with someone else’s weapon, wearing someone else’s faces, and the last part was equal parts accident, extortion and desperation.”

“And are you extorting me?” Inari asked, taking a few more steps around me in a semicircle.

“These are leading questions,” I protested.

“You didn’t have to answer them that way. But I’ve heard the story. Show me evidence, and I’ll lend my support.”

I could see why Inari had been Themis’ pick. It could have been worse and evidence was plentiful, once you could register it. The main problem was reaching it. I couldn’t jump directly across dimensions, and I’d tried reaching back to Tru after building the city. It had been a dead end; Providence’s lingering protections too powerful for even a visitation to make it in. However, the way to Singapore had been opened. The only question was whether Siphon’s containment field would be active. If Tez had in any way foreseen my actions, he could have had Regina rig a snare in the right location, knowingly or otherwise.

And then I realised it didn’t matter if I was caught or not. The wheels had been set in motion, with or without my input. Yes, I could be the gatekeeper if I wanted, but I didn’t, and the whole point was not having them. Odin had thought something like this would happen; that I’d find my way to the top of a heap and repeat his mistakes.

In reality, the revolution didn’t need me anymore. All the pieces had been turned out and laid bare; a new machine with new cogs to grind it.

Well, almost.

Taking a deep breath, I warped through to the street outside Providence. It took a few attempts, and after my sixth – other than instant relief at still having ownership of my body – I saw why.

The entrance was almost entirely buried in glowing rubble. Shattered glass and concrete shrapnel littered the landscape, now unrecognisable as a city block. Even with my vision boosted as far as it would go, the clouds of smashed detritus hung thick and dark enough to hide anything from sight further than a few metres at ground level. Illuminating the haze and contributing equally to the lack of visibility, streams of white radiance dribbled through the miasma, leaking their way up to the sky.

A hail of frozen debris pelted down from the other direction, suspended motionless in the shadow of Providence’s crumbling tower. Boulders the size of cars and small houses pelted from the heavens in deadly rain, accompanied by a hail of smaller chunks. I took a step forward, down the pile I’d landed on, and felt pain bloom at my arms, chest and legs. Wet liquid hit the rubble beside me, the only sound in the all-encompassing silence. Time-locked and immutable, even the smallest glass shards could cut me to shreds. No wonder I’d struggled to find a way through.

More carefully, I picked my way through the deadly storm, healing continually as I went. An erratic red trail blossomed behind me, turning glass fragments visible. Baldr’s crowd had thinned measurably in the moments before Vishnu’s freeze. Here and there I made out human silhouettes ducking for cover or blasting debris. Unconscious bodies were few and far between, as expected of deities, but they’d had to put up a fight. Even shattered and dissipating, Providence’s wards were still generating resistance.

Rocks and debris had covered most of the outer windows. I climbed to the top, shedding a small creek’s worth of blood in the process, and put my face to one of the few remaining gaps. The lights had gone off. It was lit by magic now; some god’s blue-lit rods. They hovered eerily through the dust and rubble kicked along the polished floors. Large roots encroached across parts of the foyer, halted like the rest of it.

In the distance I saw movement, but chose not to hide. Footsteps rang out, muted in the destructing hall, and Inanna’s face stared up out of the haze.

“I keep finding you willingly stuck inside enclosed spaces.” I mimed in the direction of Janus’ nearest portal roulette, then gestured towards the rubble beside me. “Why don’t you break out of this one, and we can talk.”

Inanna continued to stare.

“Properly,” I said, and prodded the pile. My finger came up bleeding. I fixed it.

It seemed to get through, the fertility goddess turning to trail unhurriedly towards the entrance. I scanned for the fehu rune and found it close behind the barrier, but between Providence and the time lock, couldn’t make an impact. I’d come back.

A little over a minute later, the ancient goddess manifested beside me, rubble and glass dripping down her like rain as it shed its suspension on contact. She spoke a few words, raised a hand, and brushed a finger through the dust accumulating on my shoulder. It was happy to be displaced in the time freeze.

“And Baal?” I pushed an image of the bull into her brain. “Is he unfrozen?”

“No,” she said in Akkadian, her mind providing the translation. I made a note of the word. It was a start.

Different degrees and manifestations of ability, like in any pantheon.

“Alright, Evidence,” I greeted her, and held out a hand. “Welcome to a place you can finally live, just as everything’s gearing up to die.”