When Arlo opened his eyes, it wasn't dragon smoke or rubble that greeted him.
It was marble.
That same endless expanse of white marble—polished so clean it seemed to reflect thoughts—stretched away in every direction. His stomach dropped.
"Oh no. Not again."
At the far end of the hall, slouched on a throne like a landlord who had never heard of fiscal responsibility, sat the familiar sight: worn robes, a chipped goblet in one hand, and a crooked wooden sign propped to the side:
Deos — God of This World (Do Not Disturb).
Deos lifted his goblet and grinned. "Welcome back Arlo? Hope you're doing well."
Arlo rubbed his face. "Doing well? is that sarcasm, because last I remember I was fighting a dragon and I made the entire cave's ceiling fall, so either I was eaten, roasted, or crushed."
"Crushed," Deos said with mock precision, swirling the dregs of whatever was in his cup. "All the same. But semantics aside—yes, you've returned to me." He paused, eyes glittering. "You've been the highlight of my millennium."
"You call my life a highlight?" Arlo muttered.
"Oh, immensely." Deos leaned forward, utterly unabashed. "Centuries of mortals plowing fields, arguing over goats—even after I hand out divine gifts—it all becomes... predictable. Then you show up: an apprentice with the Herald of Disaster and Fortune skill. Pure, delicious chaos."
"Divine gifts?" Arlo shot back. "More like random quirks tossed out at the festival of 'hope-this-doesn't-explode.'"
Deos waved a lazy hand. "Random by design. If you'd been in the god gifting divine skills business... you run out of ideas eventually. Randomizing gifts upon birth becomes less of a hassle. You, however, break the pattern. You trip, you bungle, you somehow live, and every now and then you do something competent enough to surprise even me. That's internship-level entertainment."
Arlo crossed his arms. "Fantastic. My unpaid internship comes with no salary, no benefits, and occasional dragon-related dismemberment."
"Don't forget the ogres you made cry," Deos added, amusement widening his grin. "That was priceless. Big mean monsters reduced to puddles because of your friend's tongue. Honestly, I ought to bless her for the sheer spectacle."
"Don't you dare," Arlo snapped.
Deos shrugged. "Relax. If I blessed Sari she'd probably start delivering curses that rewrite history. Imagine the possibilities."
"Imagine the therapy bills," Arlo muttered.
Deos chuckled and propped his chin on his hand. "And Tessa—oh, Tessa. Sweet little healer, tripping over roots like a fawn, convinced she's the reliable one. Mortals cling to roles like life rafts. It's charming."
"Hey—Tessa's saved us more times than you've lifted a finger," Arlo said, arms crossed. "But it was satisfying watching her stumble on that root."
Deos's smirk softened just a fraction. "I admire her—healing in a world like this is nobility. Useless in the long run, perhaps, but noble."
"You're a real ass for a god," Arlo said flatly.
"I prefer 'arrogantly charming,'" Deos returned, taking a quiet sip from the chipped goblet. "Besides, would our chats be half as fun if I coddled you? I don't guide mortals—I watch them. Test them. Provoke them. And you—" He tapped the arm of his throne. "You're the coin I can't stop flipping."
Arlo let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah. Except I'm the coin, and every toss slams me into the dirt."
"Which is why it's entertaining," Deos said, delighted.
"Ever consider actually helping? Maybe drop a sword, whisper a hint—anything?" Arlo asked.
Deos wagged one finger. "Where's the sport in that? You can't appreciate a cushioned path. Give you a magic sword and you'd stab yourself by accident."
Arlo gave a grudging half-smile. "Fair."
"Honesty," Deos said approvingly. Then his face shifted; he'd been holding something back. "Speaking of—has Sari written your eulogy yet? I'm picturing: Here lies Arlo—professional klutz, part-time fire hazard, full-time bad influence."
"You're insufferable," Arlo shot daggers.
"And you're entertaining," Deos replied, cheerfully implacable. "Balance."
A copper coin appeared above them, spinning lazily, catching the marble light. Arlo tensed.
"Is that?... My coin?" he said.
"Yep! you can have it back" Deos grinned. "Consider it a gift."
The coin fell into Arlo's hands.
Then Deos waved at Arlo smiling, "I've enjoyed our chat, now it's time for you to leave."
Arlo's vision faded into black.