Chapter 1: A Stranger Under a Falling Star
The sky over New Mexico had always been wide.
Endless, empty, and honest in a way cities never were. At night, the stars spread themselves across the darkness without shame, bright and distant and untouchable.
That night, one of them fell.
The impact came first as a tremor—soft, almost hesitant—like the earth wasn't sure whether it should react yet. A second later, the sound arrived, a deep thunder that rolled across the desert and rattled windows in a sleepy roadside town nearly ten kilometers away.
Dogs barked.
Car alarms screamed.
And somewhere in the desert, a crater smoked quietly.
Ten kilometers from that crater, another presence arrived.
There was no explosion this time.
No fire, no thunder, no lightshow dramatic enough to be noticed by satellites or gods.
Just a young man standing alone on an empty stretch of road, hands in his pockets, staring up at the same sky.
"…So this is where it starts."
His voice was calm, almost lazy, as if he'd merely stepped out for a late-night walk instead of crossing something far more fundamental.
The road sign beside him creaked gently in the wind.
PUENTE ANTIGUO — 12 KM
He looked at it, then back toward the horizon where a faint glow still lingered.
"About ten kilometers," he murmured. "Yeah.
That feels right."
The young man—Garen Vale—exhaled slowly.
The world moved again.
Crickets chirped.
Wind brushed sand across asphalt.
Time resumed its patient march forward, unaware that something had slipped into its current without asking permission.
Garen rolled his shoulders once, like someone stretching after a long nap.
"This universe feels… loud," he said to no one.
A Body That Isn't Mine (But Works Anyway)
He looked down at himself.
Human hands.
Human skin.
A heartbeat—steady, unhurried.
Lungs that pulled in air a little too shallowly for his taste.
Eighteen, maybe nineteen years old. Healthy. Lean. Not weak, not particularly strong either. The kind of body that blended into crowds without effort.
"Functional," Garen decided.
Memories stirred—not intruding, not overwhelming. They fit neatly, like a book he'd read once and placed back on a shelf.
Born on this Earth.
Grew up ordinary.
Loved stories about heroes, gods, and impossible things.
And somewhere along the way, those stories became… very real.
Garen smiled faintly.
"So it really is this timeline."
He didn't say its name out loud. Names had weight. And tonight, things were already heavy enough.
Another distant rumble echoed across the desert—metal scraping stone, something large shifting where it had fallen.
Garen glanced that way.
"Hammer," he said simply.
Not curiosity.
Not urgency.
Just acknowledgement.
He began walking.
Meanwhile — A God Without Power
Far away—ten kilometers, give or take—a man lay sprawled at the bottom of a crater, gasping as if air itself had betrayed him.
Thor of Asgard pushed himself up on trembling arms, confusion warring with fury in his eyes.
The sky above him was wrong.
No rainbow bridge.
No golden halls.
No familiar pull of power humming beneath his skin.
Only cold stars and foreign air.
"What trickery is this?" he demanded of the empty desert.
The desert did not answer.
Thor staggered to his feet, chest heaving.
His armor felt heavier than it should. His body slower.
Weaker.
He reached for the bond he had always known—the call, the certainty.
Nothing answered.
Mjölnir lay embedded in stone behind him, silent.
Thor's jaw tightened.
"Father…"
The word carried anger. Hurt. Something dangerously close to disbelief.
He didn't notice the faint ripple that passed through the air far beyond the horizon, like a tide adjusting itself around a new obstacle.
Back on the Road
Garen walked at an unhurried pace.
Every step felt… grounded.
He could feel the planet beneath his feet. Not consciously, not in a way that would alarm anyone nearby—but it was there. A quiet awareness, like resting a hand on a table and knowing its shape without looking.
"This Earth is young," he mused. "Still rough around the edges."
A car passed him, headlights sweeping over his face for a brief second before disappearing into the dark.
The driver didn't slow down.
Good.
Garen preferred it that way.
He reached the edge of town just as the night began to stir back to life. Lights flickered on. People stepped outside to look at the sky, murmuring about meteor strikes and earthquakes.
No one noticed the young man leaning against a lamppost, watching it all with relaxed interest.
"Chaos is always so dramatic at the beginning," he said lightly.
"You'd think it would get tired of making an entrance."
A small diner down the street had its lights on. The smell of oil and coffee drifted through the air.
Garen's stomach rumbled.
He paused.
"…Huh," he said, surprised. "That's new."
Hunger.
He laughed quietly and headed toward the diner.
The World Continues, Unaware
Inside, the TV above the counter buzzed with static before switching to a local news broadcast.
"—reports of a possible meteor impact approximately ten miles outside town. Authorities are advising residents to remain calm—"
Garen slid into a booth by the window.
A waitress approached, pen poised.
"Coffee?"
"Yes, please," Garen said.
Then added after a second,
"And… whatever's easiest."
She nodded, already moving away.
Garen rested his chin on his hand, eyes reflecting the neon lights outside.
Somewhere out there, a god was struggling with weakness for the first time.
Somewhere else, forces far larger than this town were beginning to pay attention.
And here he was.
Sitting in a diner.
Smiling.
A Quiet Oath
Garenwatched steam rise from his coffee when it arrived.
The liquid swirled gently as he stirred it, following a pattern so subtle no human eye would ever notice.
He didn't look toward the crater.
Didn't reach out.
Didn't interfere.
"Not yet," he murmured.
This world had its own rhythm.
Heroes needed to fall before they could rise.
Stories needed space to breathe.
And Garen had all the time in the world.
He lifted the cup, took a slow sip, and leaned back.
Outside, the desert wind carried distant echoes of thunder and destiny.
Inside the diner, a stranger smiled into his coffee.