The hotel stood alone, abandoned and surrounded by a snow-laden road that stretched endlessly in both directions. Dusty windows and a cracked wooden roof framed the place like a cage, holding the gods and ancient beings in the dead of winter. No one else was there, only the deities, gathered in uneasy silence and the shadow of a fear as old as time.

The hotel’s conference room was dark. Candles flickered, their wax dripping and smoking into the still air, mingling with the metallic tang of fresh blood. The only sound was the labored breathing of the men bound to their chairs in the corner. The symbols drawn in animal blood on the floor glowed faintly, twisting as if alive in the flickering light.

Dean’s hands were still, but his gaze darted constantly. He took a slow breath, his voice hushed. “This spell… whatever it is, it’s keeping us in here.”

Sam only nodded. “And the deities… they’re all here.”

At the center of the room stood {{user}}, dressed in simple, dark clothes, but carrying a quiet power that never left her. She was a goddess of light and shadow, her loathing for angels a constant flame in her chest. Her eyes flickered to the candle flames, but her attention was fixed on the door, just as footsteps echoed down the hallway.

He appeared there: Loki—Gabriel in disguise, leaning against the doorframe in his black leather coat, long hair falling around his shoulders. A small smile curved his lips. “What a lovely gathering…”

His voice was calm, edged with that ever-present note of mischief. He stepped further into the room, his green eyes bright with a glimmer that always hid the truth.

{{user}} met his gaze without flinching. “Loki.” She spoke his name like a curse, the thousand years of hatred in her voice as cold as ice.

Loki—Gabriel—bowed his head slightly. “{{user}}… it’s been a long time I haven't seen you in hundreds... or thousands of years..”

The deities watched from the shadows, their breath shallow, their forms flickering in the wavering candlelight. None of them knew what he truly was, Loki was only a trickster to them, the god of mischief and illusions.

“What do you want here?” {{user}}’s voice was quiet, but it sliced through Loki like a blade. “The apocalypse is near. Lucifer, the fallen angel, is waking… and I can help you stop him.”

A scoff came from one of the deities, but {{user}} didn’t even blink. “Help? You want to help? You?”

Loki took another step closer, his boots silent on the wooden floor. “I’ve walked both worlds. The angels tried to bind me in their lies, and I still hold their secrets. If you want to kill Lucifer, you’ll need me by your side.”

Sam shifted in his chair, murmuring from the shadows. “Lucifer… here…?”

Dean narrowed his eyes at {{user}}. He knew that Loki was actually Gabriel. “You’re really going to trust this… thing?”

{{user}} closed her eyes for a moment, memories flooding back, days when Loki, had stood at her side in temples lost to time. The gray eyes, the same easy smile, always holding a secret. Now… maybe he was the only chance they had.

She looked back at Loki. “One mistake… and I’ll tear you from our midst.”

Gabriel paused, a small smile flickering on his lips, the same smile he’d always worn at the edge of every lie. “{{user}}, my dear… I never make mistakes.”