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They met for the first time on an open plain; three mortals, so very lost and alone, and the god who had stranded them there.
"I want to test you," Schlatt said, reveling in their fear. "I want to see if you can survive the disasters I'll make."
Two shared a frightened glance but the third stared him right in the eyes. "What, like the plagues?" he joked, "this isn't Egypt, bro."
Schlatt grinned, all teeth and malice, and swirled power in his hand. He liked this one.
"Apple," he said, placing the barest trace of divine energy made solid into the mortal's- Charlie's- hand.
"Charlie, don't-" one of the others whispered, gripping onto his sleeve, but it was no use. His eyes were locked on the fruit, hand bringing it to his mouth of it's own volition.
The look of horror on his face as he snapped out of the trance, eyes just a glimmer too bright, made Schlatt laugh.
.
"One more time?" Charlie asked, tears streaking down his cheeks as he smiled.
.
They fought for the first time on the base of a volcano; a mortal on the rise, a god on the fall.
"Begone, demon!" Charlie screamed, words holding an impossible weight. The power Schlatt had seeded in him should have festered like it had with the others, made him easier to corrupt and control, but instead he had taken it for his own.
His eyes glowed as he chanted rites of binding he should not have known, every ancient syllable digging into Schlatt like chains as his power drained away.
For just a moment they were reversed, Schlatt nothing more than a mortal before the god that Charlie had become.
And then everything went dark.
.
Schlatt took his battered hand, slowly, tenderly, and brought it up to kiss.
.
But wheels turn as worlds change, and the cycle moves ever onwards.
Ages passed as Schlatt chipped away at his chains, regaining small ekes of his lost power. Ages passed as Charlie grew in strength and built a new world from the bones of the old.
A world of rickety foundations and mismatched ideas, built high enough to fall.
.
Their eyes glowed as they shared a glance; one so mortal with the sparks of divinity, one divine but holding the embers of mortality.
.
They fought for the last time in a dingy basement storefront; a mortal staggering, a god standing tall.
"Don't you get it?" Schlatt hissed, feeling the edges of his disguise start to shred. "Has it gotten through your thick skull yet?"
"What," Charlie gasped, flinching back as his eyes went hazy with memories he couldn't quite reach. "What is this?"
Schlatt scowled, all teeth and rage, and swirled corrupted power in his hand.
"The Apple, Charlie," he growled, power lacing every word, "Take. My. Apple!"
For a moment it was nearly enough, as Charlie moved to bite into it in a daze-
But then his eyes glowed, just a flicker, and he stopped before his teeth could break the skin.
The apple fell to the ground with a thud.
.
"One more time," Schlatt answered with a sigh.
.
They met for the last time on a world gone wrong; a mortal, so very alone, and the god that followed him there.
Charlie dropped his armor, looking up in defiance as Schlatt watched from on high.
"I won," he said, voice breaking but no less strong, glaring with eyes that were just a glimmer too bright.
Schlatt did not respond, only stared as he faltered from exhaustion, fell to the twisted creatures of the night.
He hated that he still liked this one.
.
Hand in hand, they entered the cycle once more.