The Guardian chosen by the Moon

The light crashed down on the warehouse like a silent thunderclap. A column of golden energy rose from the ground, tearing through the air with raw force. My breath—if I could even call it that—caught as a massive figure emerged from the beam of light. Tall, imposing, clad in gold and leather armor that fit his body like a second skin. A hammer engraved with runes in his hand, his steel-gray eyes scanned the scene with urgency.

Thor.

I had seen every MCU movie up to Endgame, and yet nothing had prepared me to see him in real life. He wasn't just a fictional character—he was here, tangible, real. Larger than life. More… divine. But what truly caught my attention was the worry etched into his features as he looked at Jane Foster, collapsed on the ground, her body still marked by the Aether pulsing beneath her skin.

He crossed the distance in a fraction of a second, kneeling beside her and gently taking her by the shoulders. "Jane, what happened?"

She slowly opened her eyes, her expression twisted with pain, but the moment she realized who was in front of her, a completely different emotion flared in her gaze.

Smack!

The slap echoed through the warehouse like a whip crack.

I couldn't help but burst into laughter. A sincere, uncontrollable laugh that cut through the air like an icy breeze. Jane Foster, a frail human with big, scientific eyes, had just smacked the God of Thunder across the face.

It was magical.

Thor blinked, his face impassive despite the slap. He opened his mouth, probably to speak, but something else caught his attention. His gaze shifted slightly—toward me.

And suddenly, the God of Thunder saw me.

His eyes narrowed, wary, as he examined my figure floating above the ground. A sudden tension filled the air, as if the static charge of the Bifröst was nothing compared to this precise moment.

"Who are you, specter?" Thor rumbled, positioning himself in front of Jane.

Jane, still rubbing her hand after the impact of the slap, seemed to realize he wasn't talking about her anymore. She turned, following his gaze, and visibly relaxed when she understood who he was referring to.

Specter. The word pierced through me. I raised my hands in a gesture of peace, my ice staff radiating a palpable chill. "Easy, okay? I'm… an ally. I think."

Thor squinted. "Your essence is tied to the cold, yet you are neither Jötunn nor sorcerer. Explain yourself."

I stammered, searching for words. Should I tell the truth? Admit that I was Ethan, just a regular human from the real world, reincarnated here because of some absurd cosmic accident? Or would it be better to offer a more digestible version of my story?

I chose caution.

"I'm… Jack Frost," I finally declared. "A spirit of winter and… uh… the guardian of fun."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Guardian of fun? Does that mean you throw parties for kids?"

"Not exactly," I replied with a mischievous grin. "Let's just say I make sure winter is fun. Snow, snowball fights, impromptu ice rinks… that's all me."

Thor studied me for a moment, trying to discern truth from deception. "Where do you come from?"

I pressed my lips together. "Another universe." It wasn't a lie, but not the full truth either. "I… fell through a frozen lake and ended up here."

Erik, who had remained silent until now, immediately looked intrigued. "That could be related to the Convergence. A distortion of space-time, a rupture point between multiple realities…" He tapped his forehead, as if sorting through his thoughts. "In theory, the multiverse functions as a series of parallel universes connected by quantum fluctuations. If the Convergence is occurring, it's possible that this Jack Frost was pulled through an interdimensional rift."

Thor frowned. "In plain terms?"

"He's here because a cosmic hole decided to drop him off," Erik summarized.

Darcy let out a small laugh. "So this guy is some kind of frosty interdimensional visitor?"

Ian, who had been observing in silence, suddenly spoke up. "Uh… who are you guys talking to, exactly?"

I stared at him. He couldn't see me. He had no idea what was happening.

Ian raised a hesitant hand. "Uh… you're talking to… no one?"

Thor turned to him, intrigued. "You don't see the frost spirit before you?"

"The frost spi—seriously?" Ian squinted at the spot where I hovered. "There's just air."

I sighed. "He can't see me. Only those who believe in magic… or who've already seen weird things…" I gestured toward Darcy, who nodded with a smug smile.

"I believe in unicorns, Santa Claus, and sexy aliens," she declared, pointing at Thor.

Erik rubbed his chin and muttered, "That would explain why I can only hear him—I'm a skeptic."

Jane, still massaging her temple, finally turned back to Thor. "You were on Earth during the Battle of New York, and you didn't even come to see me. Two years, Thor! Two years without a word!"

The God of Thunder let out a heavy sigh. "Jane… I had no choice. After the destruction of the Bifröst, the Nine Realms were in chaos. I had to restore balance."

His gaze fell on her again, scrutinizing her condition with concern. "This power within you… It is not lethal. Not for humans. I must take you to Asgard. There, we can understand what is happening to you."

Jane hesitated, but the anxiety of not knowing what was happening to her made her give in. She nodded. "Okay."

I took a deep breath (out of habit more than necessity) and stepped forward. "I'm coming with you."

Thor gave me an uncertain look. "Why?"

"If this world has gods and sorcerers who can travel between dimensions, then maybe there's a way for me to get home."

Thor studied my staff, the frozen patterns twisting along its surface like forgotten runes. "The secrets of Yggdrasil are vast. But be warned—my father will see you only as a dangerous curiosity."

Odin. Great.

"Very well. If what Erik says is true, then the sages of Asgard may be able to help you."

He raised his hammer and summoned the Bifröst.

The Bifröst engulfed us, its colors burning my mortal eyes—or what was left of them. Galaxies whirled past, stars being born and dying in milliseconds. My staff suddenly froze, intricate crystals forming along it, as if the bridge itself was carving my power.

And somewhere, in the swirling chaos, I heard a laugh. An ancient, dark laugh that did not belong to Thor…

Asgard, here I come.