Arthur's POV
It's been a week since I died... and was reborn in this frozen wasteland. If I were still the same Arthur as before, the cold would have knocked me down in minutes, maybe even frozen my body solid in seconds. But with this enhanced physique and a crazy healing factor, surviving here has become surprisingly easy.
Of course, I've tested my healing factor several times – after all, someone needs to figure out how this all works, right? And let me tell you, it seems like this power is even better than Deadpool's. With no mutant cancer eating away at my body, there's nothing to hinder the process, so my appearance remains the same. And not to brag, but I'd hate to lose my handsome face.
As for the little wolf I found... his name is now Ragnar. I have to confess, this pup is not normal, just like his mother. In one week, he went from a tiny little thing to the size of a small dog. His dark fur is impressive, shiny and strong, and the speed at which he grows is surreal. It's useful, at least – if he wasn't growing, I wouldn't have anyone to spend my time with. Fortunately, Ragnar has already started eating meat from the animals I occasionally hunt, which keeps us well fed for now.
And me? Well, I'm getting better and better with the swords. At first, it was kind of clumsy, too stiff. But over time, I adapted. I can move quickly and accurately, as if my reflexes have been taken to a level I could never have imagined. And, of course, that extra strength comes in handy.
I also have a suspicion about the swords. Something tells me they're not made of just any metal – the material reminds me of the famous Adamantium. During one of my tests, I cut a stone in half with ease, the cut was smooth, perfect, without a scratch on the blade. If that's not otherworldly, I don't know what is.
Narrator's POV
Arthur walked through the frozen forest, the icy air forming small clouds with each breath. As he walked, he talked non-stop about the workings of a particle accelerator, gesticulating as if explaining to an attentive student. Ragnar, his walking companion, trotted beside him, dodging branches and stones as he listened to the man's monologue.
"So, Ragnar, here's the thing," Arthur explained. "A particle accelerator, in practice, uses an electromagnetic field to propel particles to absurd speeds. And suddenly, BOOM! They collide, and then we understand a little more about the things that make up the universe." He looked at the wolf, who followed his footsteps with a slightly curious but lost expression. "Who knows, maybe one day I'll build one, right?"
He was still wearing the costume, but without the mask – there wasn't much need for that here. Over his shoulders, a bearskin covered him like a makeshift cloak. The bear had been one of the animals that tried to attack him during the night, and Arthur didn't hesitate to take it down to survive and secure warmer shelter.
Ragnar looked at him with bright eyes, his head tilted, as if trying to follow the words Arthur spoke non-stop.
"You see, boy?" Arthur continued, chuckling. "I knew science was fascinating."
The wolf let out a slight grunt, probably the most agreement Arthur could get out of him. But then, something unexpected made Arthur stop – a distant, metallic sound, echoing through the forest. It was the sound of clashing swords, accompanied by shouts and men's voices.
He crouched beside Ragnar and whispered, "Looks like we're not alone anymore, boy."
With a smile of excitement, Arthur tucked Ragnar under one arm and ran towards the sound. The wolf remained quiet, settled and firm, while Arthur sprinted forward, dodging trees and jumping branches with surprising agility. His senses seemed sharper, and he barely tired, even in the intense run.
When he finally reached the source of the noise, Arthur ducked down and peered through the trees. Ahead, a fight scene unfolded: four men dressed in black leather armor, surrounded by eight others wielding axes and animal skins. It was an intense battle, and the men in black leather fought together, defending themselves and protecting each other, while the others shouted insults and threats.
"Time to die, damned crows!" shouted one of the wildlings, wielding his axe with hatred.
Arthur watched the fight for a few seconds, his expression changing from interest to amusement. "Finally, humans!" he murmured with a playful smile. As if he had decided to have some fun, he began to sing softly, "Who will I save, these here or those there?"
After a few seconds of singing, he stopped, sighed and decided. He put Ragnar down and pointed at the little wolf, saying, "Don't run away, boy."
He drew his swords with a swift motion, the metallic sound echoing through the surroundings. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he ran towards the fight, moving like an agile shadow.
In the center of the battle, one of the wildlings raised his axe to decapitate one of the fallen men. Before he could finish the blow, a blade passed through his chest, interrupting him abruptly. The man froze, blinking in surprise before falling to the side, dead.
"Can I join the fun?" Arthur asked, his voice lively and playful.
The wildlings turned, alarmed, and faced the unknown man in strange attire. Some hesitated, looking at Arthur with suspicion, but soon the first of them advanced with his axe raised.
Arthur dodged with ease, his reflexes working precisely and nimbly. Spinning one of the swords, he blocked the attack and, with a fluid motion, plunged the second blade into the attacker's stomach, who fell without understanding what had hit him. Blood splattered on the white snow, and Arthur chuckled, excited by the intensity of the combat.
"Alright, who's next?"