Oliver Vigilanco had always thought his life was as ordinary as it could be. Living in a small apartment in the heart of Mexico City with his mother and younger sister, he spent his days navigating the bustling streets, dreaming of adventures beyond the urban landscape. Little did he know, his fate was intertwined with a story far grander than he could have ever imagined.

It was a typical Tuesday evening when everything changed. Oliver sat at the kitchen table, his nose buried in a book about Norse mythology. His mother, Maria, was cooking dinner while his sister, Elena, chattered away about her day at school.

"Oliver, put that book away and help me set the table," Maria called out in Spanish, her voice tinged with affectionate exasperation.

Oliver reluctantly closed the book, his mind still buzzing with tales of gods and monsters. As he moved to grab the plates from the cupboard, something caught his eye outside the window. A streak of lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder.

"What was that?" Elena asked, her voice trembling with fear.

Maria rushed to the window, her expression filled with concern. "I don't know, but it looks like a storm is coming."

As if on cue, rain began to pelt against the windowpanes, accompanied by an eerie howling wind. Oliver felt a shiver run down his spine, an inexplicable sense of foreboding settling over him.

Just then, the lights flickered and went out, plunging the apartment into darkness. Maria cursed under her breath, fumbling for a flashlight in the kitchen drawer.

Oliver's heart raced as he heard a low rumbling sound, like distant thunder. But it wasn't coming from the sky—it was coming from the streets below.

"What's happening?" Elena whimpered, clutching onto her brother's arm.

Before Oliver could respond, a blinding flash of light illuminated the room, followed by a deafening boom that shook the building to its foundation. The ground trembled beneath their feet as cracks appeared in the walls, sending pictures crashing to the floor.

"Get under the table, now!" Maria shouted, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

Oliver obeyed, pulling Elena close as he ducked beneath the sturdy wooden table. The world seemed to spin around him, a whirlwind of noise and confusion.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the storm subsided. The apartment fell silent, save for the sound of their ragged breathing.

Tentatively, Oliver peeked out from beneath the table. What he saw made his blood run cold.

The streets below were in ruins, buildings reduced to rubble and cars overturned. But it wasn't just the destruction that unnerved him—it was what stood at the center of it all.

A figure, tall and imposing, clad in armor that gleamed like burnished gold. His eyes blazed with an otherworldly light as he surveyed the wreckage with an air of triumph.

"It can't be..." Oliver whispered, his voice barely a whisper.

Maria and Elena emerged from their hiding place, their faces pale with shock. "What is that thing?" Elena whispered, her voice trembling.

Oliver felt a surge of panic rise within him. He knew what—or rather, who—that figure was. He had read about him in his books, heard stories whispered in hushed tones.

"That's... that's Thor," Oliver said, his voice barely audible.

Maria's eyes widened in disbelief. "But... but he's just a myth, a story."

Oliver shook his head, his mind racing. "Not anymore. He's real, and he's here."

As if in response to his words, Thor raised his hammer high above his head, a triumphant roar echoing through the night.

And with that, the world as Oliver knew it was forever changed. The age of Ragnarok had begun, and it was up to him to survive.