It felt like the first time Alec could breathe.

  Yet he kept turning in his bed, unable to stop looking at the rune tattooed on his forearm.

  Things had moved quickly after Thor left. Nadia had escorted Erik, Ulf, and him out of the dining hall.

  Still half-lost in the fog of the god’s presence, Alec barely registered the change in scenery.

  But beyond the battlegrounds and the feast hall, Valhalla looked like a hotel.

  A luxury one—endless corridors, polished floors, elevators humming softly, doors stretching farther than they should have.

  Nadia had separated them without ceremony.

  Alec had tried to argue, at least to stay on the same floor. She hadn’t budged.

  She had left a single command.

  “Do not go out until I come for you.”

  Then the door had closed.

  Alec wasn’t planning on going anywhere anyway.

  The room was large. Like his own studio.

  A main piece with a low sofa, perfectly made.

  A mounted screen hung on the wall, dark and lifeless.

  A bedroom with a huge bed and a bathroom.

  A dim light washed in a faint blue glow—as if filtered through deep water, like being at sea without waves.

  After a quick look of the place to make sure it was safe, Alec directly went to bed.

  Near it, rested a guitar, carefully placed.

  Alec stared at it for a long moment. He didn’t remember playing, yet he couldn’t deny the familiarity it stirred in him.

  The walls were lined with framed photographs.

  All of them blank.

  No faces. No places. Just empty spaces where memories should have been—and a growing sense of unease as he looked at them.

  The bed was definitely the best part. Neatly done. Soft as a cloud.

  The room had been prepared exactly for him.

  He waited. And waited. But Nadia never came back, and sleep didn’t either.

  The rune pulsed faintly on his arm, its glow mirroring the blue light of the room.

  It was warm to the touch.

  His father’s rune? Alec still struggled to believe it.

  Him—a Norse demigod?

  So many things felt impossible.

  Yet Valhalla kept proving them real.

  Gods. Monsters. Heroes.

  Everything he had judged impossible was real, demanding that he adjust.

  The quicker, the better.

  He put his hands together.

  From his fight with the giant to Thor himself, everything had shown him he could use magic.

  He focused, searching for the feeling—the fear, the pressure, the instinct that had driven him before.

  Slowly, ice formed in his hands. Small at first.

  He shaped it into a block. Then into a knife.

  He couldn’t help the smile growing on his face.

  The odds had shifted.

  The knife evaporated between his fingers.

  Clearly, he needed work.

  He yawned before turning around in his bed.

  Alec felt like safety, even if temporary, was a rare thing here.

  He closed his eyes, hoping that tomorrow would be better somehow.

  But before he could drift too far, a sound caught his attention.

  Small at first, like the hissing of wind against glass.

  But it quickly turned into a single sharp sound, glass exploding.

  Followed by thousands of tiny crashes tinkling and smashing against floor and wall.

  The wind howled violently for a second before silence fell.

  Alec quickly rose out of bed.

  He had no weapons with him; they had disappeared when he had entered the hotel.

  He slowly got out of bed. His hands were shaking.

  He grabbed one of the framed photographs and broke it as quietly as he could before picking up one of the shards.

  Definitely, Alec hated this place.

  He slowly opened the door of the bedroom.

  The blue light was dimmer, making it hard to see.

  But it didn’t take him more than a second before he recognized the girl grazing the mounted screen as she inspected it.

  She said something, in a language that Alec couldn’t understand. It sounded off, like wind whispering.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Hmmm.” Ulf must have seen the incomprehension on his face.

  “You were sleeping?” she added.

  “how did you get here?” was the first word Alec said.

  She pointed to a broken window.

  “What a warm welcome,” she said, pointing to the glass shard in Alec’s hand.

  “Well, you didn’t knock,” he said as he lowered his hand.

  “What’s this?” The blue light flickered against her hair as she ran a finger across the screen.

  “A television?” Alec asked back.

  “Hmmm,” she said slowly.

  Her eyes swept the room. The sofa, meaningless decoration, the walls. The scattered shards on the floor.

  Alec leaned against a wall, watching the scene unfold.

  After a second, she sat on the edge of the sofa, then turned to Alec.

  With the same piercing eyes he had seen before.

  “I thought you would have questions, so I figured I would come meet you. But this place…” she said as she motioned around Alec’s room. “It’s so different from mine. I’m the one with questions now.”

  “Different how?”

  “Like from a different time.”

  “How come?” he asked, intrigued.

  “You’ll see when you see my room,” she said as she glanced around one final time.

  When would he see her room? Was he wrong, or was Ulf warming up to him?

  “So, the son of Njord, huh?” She smiled.

  “I guess,” he answered.

  “How does the son of a Vanir god—Njord himself nonetheless—find himself in Valhalla?” She motioned for him to sit next to her.

  He stepped up, sat on the sofa, and dropped the glass shard on the table before facing her.

  “Would you believe me if I told you that I didn’t know?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it’s the truth,” he sighed.

  “When you and Erik found me in that forest, I had just woken up. With no memories besides my name. I had no idea Norse gods were real.”

  She stared for a second.

  “So you want me to believe that a kid with no memories, no training, and unaware of his divine heritage somehow found himself on Valhalla’s proving grounds? Fought alone, survived, found allies to fight alongside, and somehow won?”

  “Yes.”

  “And with Thor, when you stopped him…”

  “I didn’t want my friends to die, so I just moved.”

  “Friends?” She paused for a second, clearly taken aback.

  She looked at him up and down before actually sitting on the sofa.

  She leaned into it in an instant, like a cat that had found a comfortable spot.

  “So from the beginning, you have no idea what’s going on?”

  “None,” Alec smiled.

  She sighed, and a weight he hadn’t even noticed was there dropped off his shoulders.

  “You are an interesting puzzle, Alec Chase.”

  “And you? Who are you?”

  She slowly reached out, fingers hovering for a moment before brushing against his forearm.

  “Can I?”

  He turned his arm, revealing the rune etched into his skin.

  She grazed it, and it flickered.

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Not really. It’s more cold. Like a never-melting ice cube.”

  She chuckled. “So you really are just a kid after all.”

  “You don’t look that much older than me,” he fired back.

  “You think?” She smiled, but he could sende a trace of sadness slipped into her voice.

  “Usually demigods carry the name of their parents. Your name should’ve been Alec Njordson,” she added.

  “Skadidóttir. That means daughter of Skadi, right?”

  She was taller than Alec, but for the daughter of a giantess, she didn’t look that tall.

  She nodded.

  “I’m the daughter of the giant huntress and a human. You know what that means, right?”

  “I should?”

  She shook her head as she sighed.

  “Most of the giants and Aesir gods are in an open war. Which is why the Aesir aren’t thrilled about me being here. And Erik is—”

  She stopped, realizing she was getting carried away. “He’ll tell you himself.”

  “So, giantess, what can you actually tell me about what’s happening?” he asked.

  “Well, young demigod, you made a mistake.”

  “Did I now?”

  “You should never have crossed our paths.”

  Alec’s smile faded. Her seriousness killed the joke.

  “Erik and I—we were fine on our own. We lived together for as long as I can remember. We fought humans and monsters, survived, sailed seas, and feasted together. But we also made enemies. Powerful ones.”

  “Like the literal god of lightning,” Alec muttered.

  “Among others,” she chuckled.

  She leaned back, eyes drifting toward the ceiling.

  “We made peace with the idea that we’d never find peace. Not in Midgard. Not in Vanaheim. Not Alfheim. And certainly not in Asgard… or Odin’s hall of warriors.”

  Her gaze returned to him.

  “You may not have experienced Valhalla on its best day. But here, you have a chance to live your afterlife in peace. Walking with me—and the walking disaster—won’t do you any good.”

  She looked different now.

  Not like a witch.

  Just a teenager who had carried things she never should have had to.

  Would being her friend do the same to him?

  “Have you pissed off Njord yet?” he asked.

  “No,” she answered.

  “Then I don’t think he’d mind if I stay your friend a little longer.”

  The smile that had started to form on her face vanished.

  “You don’t understand,” she said quietly. “This isn’t a joke. Our world is ruthless.”

  “Valhalla is too.” Alec quickly said

  She had no answer to that.

  “I threw myself into fire to fight alongside you. We feasted together afterward. Doesn’t that make me part of the team already?”

  She laughed—audibly this time.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Then explain,” he said. “Don’t make the choices for me.”

  She fell silent, her eyes locked onto Alec’s.

  Then they glowed with the same eerie amber light.

  The shattered glass from the window rose from the floor, spinning in a tight vortex. Shards twisted and collided, reshaping themselves until they formed a small, perfect mirror.

  She whispered something in that strange, whispering language again, then pressed the mirror into Alec’s hands.

  “Watch.”

  As Alec took the mirror, a wave of cold ran through his body.

  He didn’t know what he was expecting as his reflection twisted. Suddenly, he was looking at a snowy clearing.

  Dark clouds rumbled overhead, lightning splitting the sky. Erik and Ulf were there, weapons drawn. They looked tired, breathing heavily as they stood in the middle of the storm.

  Lightning struck in the middle of them. They rolled out of the way just in time.

  Ulf fired a couple of arrows at the sky, unsure if they hit anything, while Erik cursed at the storm.

  Another bolt struck Erik, sending him flying back into a tree.

  The sky opened, revealing the god of lightning, in what looked like battle armor.

  He laughed, throwing his hammer—crackling with lightning—at Erik.

  Ulf deflected it with a lightning-charged arrow of her own.

  The god rushed at her, impossibly fast.

  She dodged the first blow, fired arrows that bounced off his skin—he headbutted her.

  Lightning cracked overhead as she dropped her bow and stumbled backward.

  Erik surged from nowhere, climbing onto the god’s back to stab him—but his sword shattered.

  The two wrestled, equally matched.

  In the tussle, the god stepped on Ulf’s bow, breaking it—but she hadn’t given up.

  She lunged, unsheathing one of her knives, and slashed his ankle. Blood spattered on the snow as the god and thunder roared in unison.

  Erik then punched him in the stomach, then kicked him in the head. The god staggered, nearly dropping to a knee, visibly shocked that they had managed to hurt him.

  Yet, before they could do more, he leapt and disappeared into the clouds.

  “Coward!” Erik screamed.

  Silence answered.

  A silence that lasted only a few seconds before the god’s hammer split the sky.

  Descending like lightning toward the two warriors.

  They couldn’t react fast enough. Erik spun, grabbing Ulf in his arms to shield her.

  Then the mirror shifted, returning Alec’s frozen face to the glass.

  The air in the room felt suffocating.

  “W-what?” Alec’s voice trembled, just like his hands.

  “Valhalla is the paradise for warriors who died on the battlefield,” she began. “This is where Odin recruits his warriors for Ragnar?k. And that right there is how Erik and I died.”

  Alec hadn’t realized she had moved. She was curled up on the sofa.

  “That’s why he knew you. Thor is the reason both of you are here,” Alec nearly screamed.

  She nodded slowly.

  “Once a soul reaches Valhalla, it becomes immortal—as long as it remains there. I think Thor will come for us again. And again. And again.”

  Her eyes were cold as she said it. Not an ounce of humor or exaggeration.

  “By walking with us, you’re putting a target on your back.”

  Alec couldn’t find the words to answer. His body was still frozen by what he had seen.

  Ulf reached out again. Quickly this time, she grabbed Alec’s hand.

  Her hands were warm.

  “Alec, you’re just a kid.” Her voice was sharp, words nearly cutting.

  “You’re not the first demigod I’ve met who believes he can face everything the world throws at him.”

  Her grip tightened slightly.

  “I’ve seen what happens to those who believe in bravenness. Let me change your fate. Let me help you stay alive.”

  Alec’s chest was tight. His breath was getting harder to find.

  “And what do you need me to do?” he quietly asked.

  She smiled.

  “Stay in the room. If you allow Nadia to lock it, not even the gods will breach it. Here, you will be safe.”

  “So you want me to stay here for eternity?”

  Her smile quickly dropped.

  “It’s better than endless suffering.”

  She tried to take her hands back, but Alec squeezed them.

  “When we first met, you asked what kind of hero I was…”

  “Alec, don’t,” she interrupted.

  “I may not understand everything. But this place isn’t my paradise, those gods aren’t mine, and I have so many questions to answer.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “I may not be a hero. I may never be as strong as you. I may fail. I may die—again and again. But I won’t let this place be the end of me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  The blue light grew in intensity at the same time as Njord’s rune.

  “I know exactly what I’m saying. If you weren’t my friend, you wouldn’t have done all of this to help me. And I already angered Thor, so it’s a bit too late,” he chuckled.

  “Look, Ulf, if this place doesn’t accept us,” he said, his voice steady now, “then let’s leave.”

  Ulf stared at him as if he’d just suggested tearing down the sky.

  “Leave Valhalla?” she whispered. “You think anyone leaves?”

  Alec nodded slowly.

  “I believe that if anyone can break us out of this prison, it’s you.”

  Ulf pulled her hands free.

  She stood and turned away, pacing the room like a caged animal that already knew the shape of every wall.

  When she spoke again, her voice was lower, rougher.

  “This place breaks people, Alec. Not all at once. Little by little. You fight, you die, you feast, you forget why you were afraid. That’s how it keeps you.”

  “Then maybe that’s why I’m here,” he said. “I don’t remember enough to forget. And I believe that if there’s a world outside of this one, I want to see it again.”

  She stopped.

  “Njordson, why are you so hard-headed?”

  Alec stepped closer, not reaching for her this time, just standing where she could see him.

  “I won’t pretend I can protect you. Or Erik. Or myself. But I won’t hide and call it survival either.”

  Ulf exhaled, slow and unsteady, then sat back down on the sofa. Not curled in on herself this time—just tired.

  “Gods are cunning, monsters are ruthless, and humans are just as bad, if not worse. If you decide to walk this path,” she said, not looking at him, “you don’t get to pretend you didn’t know that it would cost.”

  Alec nodded.

  “I won’t. Even if it means walking it alone.”

  Silence settled again, heavier than before—but different.

  Not suffocating.

  And for the first time since he had woken in that forest, Alec felt something close to certainty.

  This place had never offered peace or safety.

  It had offered torture and submission hidden in comfort.

  And he had decided to go off-road.

  By choosing what he actually wanted for his life,

  he had found direction.