Loki sat on a rock, whittling a stick. "So," he noted, looking up at the mountain that was moving. "You're big."
Kroni did not answer with words. The demon was a walking tectonic plate, a creature of pure malice that had existed since the dawn of time. He took a step, and the ground for a mile around turned to ash.
"I have a proposition," Loki shouted, standing up and tossing the stick away. It turned into a viper mid-air. "You like destroying things. I like breaking things. We could team up."
The Consumption of Lies
Kroni ignored the offer. He opened a mouth that was more like a volcanic vent. Cosmic Consumption began to pull at the fabric of the reality around them.
Loki felt his own magic being tugged. "Rude," he muttered.
Loki vanished. In his place stood a legion of frost giants, screaming war cries.
Kroni didn't blink. He slapped the illusion with a hand the size of a glacier. The giants dissolved into mist. But the mist was poison—venom from the World Serpent.
The venom hissed against Kroni’s skin. The demon grunted, annoyed. He used Sixfold Incarnation, splitting his mass into six distinct, terrifying avatars, each representing specific evils. One of them, a creature of pure Greed, lunged for Loki.
Loki shapeshifted into a fly, zipping away. "Too many heads! It's tacky!"
The Trap of Vice
Loki thought he was winning. He was faster, smarter. He led the lumbering demon on a chase through the valleys, setting traps of magical fire and illusory pits.
But he missed the point of Kroni.
Kroni wasn't chasing a body; he was chasing the intent. Every lie Loki told, every trick he spun, fed the atmosphere of corruption that Kroni breathed.
Loki stopped to catch his breath behind a boulder. He felt heavy. His limbs were sluggish.
He looked down. His shadow was stretching, darkening, merging with the ground.
Shadow Reconstitution. Kroni hadn't been following him; Kroni had been becoming the environment around him.
The shadow rose up, forming the massive, molten hand of the demon. Loki tried to shift into a salmon, but the river was already boiling.
"You are delicious," Kroni’s voice rumbled from everywhere at once.
Loki, realizing he had outsmarted himself into a corner, did the only thing left. He called for Heimdall (who wasn't listening) and then vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving his shoes behind as a distraction.
Kroni ate the shoes. He was still hungry.