"Nathael, my magic is unstable!" Celestia shouted as they plummeted through the night sky. She yelled because otherwise her voice would be lost in the roar of the wind. The freezing air whipped their faces, Nathael's cloak flapped like a torn sail, and the desert rushed toward them with every passing second.
Nathael's face turned serious, a trace of worry in his eyes as he began mobilizing what magic he could within his body. Though weak, he could feel it trying to reorganize, as if every particle of his being fought to adapt to a new environment. He quickly wrapped his arms around Celestia and pulled her against his chest.
"It must be because we just entered a new universe!" he shouted back, his voice strained by the fall. "Our bodies need time to adjust to the surroundings!"
In his mind, Nathael had already ruled out other possibilities. We were fine moments ago, before falling through the Ancient One's portal, he thought. So he deduced it must have been a kind of bridge before entering this world. A dimensional threshold, perhaps. A space between realities where their magic had remained stable.
"I'll take the direct impact!" he told Celestia firmly. "My clothes will cushion some of the damage!"
Though in theory both would suffer the same damage by basic physics, Celestia—protected by his body and her own vest reinforced with cushioning runes—would take less. It was a quick, instinctive decision, like all the ones he made when it came to her.
Celestia meowed loudly.
"No!" she shouted, but she immediately knew Nathael wouldn't change his mind. If there was anything that worried Nathael more in this world or any other, it was her. Resigned, she nodded and muttered through gritted teeth, "Damn that Ancient One. She could have sent us straight to the ground." Then, more to herself: "This goes in my little black book. You'll pay for this."
In a normal situation, a simple levitation spell would suffice. With their skill, they could even use ancestral magic to fly, as they had when searching for Mount Kunlun. But now, unable to mobilize their magic, it was impossible. Ancestral magic was even less accessible—it was rooted in everything around them: life, soil, plants, wildlife. But in this new world, they could barely sense anything, and though their bodies were already processing the environment and faint sparks of this world's ancestral magic flickered… they were vulnerable.
Still, their physically refined bodies, honed by years of magic, ensured quick recovery and less damage than a Muggle would suffer.
Just then, Nathael sensed something different.
A few meters away, a streak suddenly appeared—a tornado-like trail of varied light: blue, white, golden—like a vertical path of luminous energy gradually descending to the ground, kicking up earth in its wake. Despite their instability, both felt a majestic energy emanating from the column.
"Nathael!" Celestia exclaimed, eyes wide. "I saw a man inside!"
But Nathael had no time to respond. They were almost at the ground, though he managed to glimpse the man's silhouette.
The impact was like that of a projectile. The pain was immediate, sharp, and brutal. Nathael fell unconscious instantly.
Celestia, barely conscious, managed to see the streak vanish upon touching the earth… but it left a man behind. He was strong, muscular, with long blond hair, dressed only in a dark blue long-sleeved polo shirt, dark pants, and sneakers. He staggered, confused, looking up at the sky.
Then, a vehicle appeared in the distance. A pickup truck. It screeched to a halt and collided with the blond man's shoulder. From it emerged two young women and an older man.
"Oh no!" said one of the women, the shorter one wearing something like a beanie and glasses. "If there's legal trouble, it's your fault, Jane."
The other, with brown hair and bright eyes, responded quickly:
"Get me the first-aid kit!" Then, looking at the man: "Do me a favor and don't die."
The older man, bearded and bespectacled, muttered:
"We shouldn't be here anyway."
"But look at that energy!" Jane insisted, pointing to their devices that had drawn them here, especially the strange circle with markings on the ground where the man had landed. "I've never seen anything like it!"
Darcy, the girl in the beanie, looked across the crater and her eyes widened.
"Jane!" she exclaimed, pointing. "Look! There's a super handsome guy and a little white kitty over there!"
Jane and Erik looked, surprised. They approached cautiously.
The blond man, recovering, gazed at the sky and roared:
"Father! Heimdall! I know you can hear me! Open the Bifrost!"
Then he turned to the three people and asked in an authoritative voice:
"What realm is this? Alfheim? Niflheim?"
Darcy, who had already approached Nathael and Celestia—attracted by the young man's beauty and the injured cat—startled at his words. Without thinking twice, she pulled out her taser and aimed it at him.
"New Mexico?!" she said, a mix of fear and sarcasm.
The blond took deep offense.
"Are you challenging me? Me, Thor? With that ridiculous weapon?"
Darcy didn't hesitate. She pulled the trigger. An electric crackle filled the air, and the blond collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Celestia, at the limit of her strength, barely caught Darcy's last words:
"What? He was freaking me out!"
And with that, Celestia closed her eyes and fell unconscious, as she saw the bespectacled girl glance at them again and approach.
Hours later, Nathael gradually awoke.
He was lying on a gurney in what appeared to be a hospital. Fluorescent lights, Muggle medical equipment, the smell of antiseptic. He sat up slowly, feeling his body sore but stable. His magic now felt more coherent, like a river returning to its bed.
He quickly looked around, searching for Celestia.
Then, a white lump stirred beside him. She was there, asleep, breathing calmly, curled up as if they hadn't fallen thousands of meters hours ago.
Nathael sighed in relief.
At that moment, he heard a metallic clank. He turned his head and saw a muscular blond man with shoulder-length hair, strapped arms and legs to a metal gurney. He struggled against the restraints with strength that made the steel creak.
Nathael observed him for a moment. Then, in a calm voice, he said:
"Are you all right?"
The blond stopped and looked at him. His blue eyes were full of fury… but also confusion.
"Who are you?" he asked, with a strange but clear accent.
"Nathael," he replied. "And this is Celestia, my companion." He pointed to the cat, who remained asleep.
Then, recalling what had happened and what Celestia had told him before losing consciousness, he added:
"You're not from around here, are you?"
The man shook his head.
"No. I am Thor, son of Odin. Heir to the throne of Asgard."
Nathael was surprised but didn't show it. In his world, Muggles had myths about Norse gods: Odin, Thor, Asgard, Loki. Just stories. Legends. But here… they were apparently real.
He studied Thor carefully. Now that his magic was more stable, he could sense it clearly. There was no great power in him. Something was containing it.
"Your power is sealed?" he asked.
Thor looked at him, astonished. Unlike the doctors who had injected him with a sedative, this… this mortal had understood it instantly.
"Something like that," he admitted.
Nathael nodded. He extended his hand and, with a subtle flick of his wrist, the restraints binding Thor unraveled as if they had never existed.
Thor leaped up, staring at his freed hands, then at Nathael.
"Are you a sorcerer of these lands?"
Nathael smiled faintly.
"Something like that."
Thor let out a genuine laugh, without arrogance.
"I like you, sorcerer."
"Likewise," Nathael said.
"Do you know how to get out of here?" Thor asked, looking around with disdain.
"I suppose by following the 'Exit' signs," Nathael replied, pointing to the emergency door.
He stood, found his clothes folded on a nearby chair, and dressed quickly. With relief, he located his wand in the inner pocket of his jacket. The most important thing was safe.
Then he looked at Celestia.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," he said softly. "I know you've been awake for a while."
Celestia stretched elegantly, yawned, and meowed.
"You know me too well," she said clearly.
Thor, who had been watching silently, opened his eyes wide.
"You speak!" he exclaimed. "In all the realms I have visited, I have never seen a furry creature of your size speak!"
Celestia frowned, offended.
"I am not a 'furry creature,'" she said with dignity. "I am of a great lineage, an ancestral line dating back millennia."
Thor looked at her, surprised… but then smiled. There was something about her that felt familiar. It wasn't just the pride. It was the bearing. The way she carried her blood. Like him.
"I understand," he said respectfully. "I too am of noble birth."
Nathael smiled and turned to Celestia.
"It's time to move. There's much to investigate."
Just as they took a step toward the door, Thor stopped them.
"May I accompany you?"
Nathael looked at him. He was no threat. He seemed somewhat lost, disconnected from his power, seeking answers.
He saw no harm in it.
He nodded.