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Taylor stood frozen, her heart pounding as the enormity of what had just happened crashed over her. Odin. Thor. The Odinforce. It was too much, too impossible—and yet, here she was, standing in a crumbling old church after meeting the Allfather of Norse mythology. She ran a trembling hand through her hair, struggling to steady herself.
Her chest felt tight, mind racing in every direction. She leaned heavily against the nearest pew, the wood creaking beneath her weight.
"This can't be real…" she whispered shakily. "God, what the hell just happened?"
Her eyes darted around the church. Eerie light filtered through stained-glass windows, casting distorted colours across the stone walls. Everything seemed so normal, so mundane compared to the storm inside her head. She pressed her hands to her temples, trying to force down the rising panic.
"Okay… okay. I just talked to Odin. I'm related to Thor. I have some kind of god-power in me now," she muttered to herself, forcing the words out as if saying them aloud would make them more believable.
"This is real. This is actually happening."
Her breath hitched, panic clawing at her chest. She couldn't do this. She wasn't ready for any of this. Ancient gods? An enemy Odin himself couldn't defeat? That was insane. She was supposed to be a normal girl—or, at least, as normal as she could be in Brockton Bay. She wasn't ready for something like this.
She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, trying to focus. Her vision blurred with unshed tears, and she let out a soft, bitter laugh. "What the hell am I supposed to do with any of this?"
The panic was suffocating her. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel herself on the verge of breaking down. "No, no, no, I can't—" she whispered, crumpling against the pew. "This is too much, this is—"
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the seat, and she shut her eyes, forcing herself to breathe. In, out. In, out. Slowly, the world around her stopped spinning.
"Get it together," she hissed to herself. "Panicking isn't going to help."
With a few more steady breaths, her heart finally began to slow. She wiped at her eyes and forced herself to stand. She could do this. She had to. Right now, she just needed to go home. Dad had to be worried sick. Was anyone even looking for her? What about her locker—had anyone found out yet?
Taylor turned toward the exit, suddenly desperate to get out of this ancient, creepy church and back to something that felt even remotely normal.
But just as she made for the door, a voice interrupted, casual and almost teasing.
"Leaving already? You've forgotten about me that quickly?"
Taylor froze, her eyes darting around the empty church. "Who—?" She spun toward the altar, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the raven perched there, watching her with that unnervingly intelligent gaze.
"You...?" she whispered. "You can talk?!"
The raven let out a rough, cawing chuckle, ruffling its feathers. "Not exactly," it said, though its beak didn't move. "This is more… communication. Not talking in the way you think."
Taylor blinked, staring at the bird in disbelief. "Wait, what? You're... communicating? But I'm hearing you, right? Like... in my head?"
"More or less," the raven replied, its tone laced with amusement. "We share a connection, you and I. I can communicate with my companion. A mental link between us is the simplest way to explain it." The bird paused, then added with what sounded like a dry chuckle, though Taylor couldn't be sure, "Though that's like explaining rockets by saying they go up."
Taylor's mouth opened and closed, trying to process what she was hearing. "So... you can't always do this?"
"Not unless our bond is stronger," the raven said, shifting on its perch. "You've only just tapped into the Odinforce. It's still weak. Right now, this conversation is only possible because Odin gave me a little extra energy before he left."
"So... when that runs out, no more talking?"
"Not for a long while," the raven agreed. "It'll be years before we can speak like this again—or before I can use most of my abilities, really. You'll need to grow much stronger for that."
Taylor stared, trying to wrap her head around it. This raven—her raven—could talk to her. It had powers. She blinked rapidly, trying to shake the fog in her mind. "Wait, hold on. You have powers? What else can you do?"
The bird tilted its head slightly. "I'm more than just a bird," it said, its tone carrying a hint of smugness. "For eons, I was Odin's companion, gathering information for him. I flew across realms, collecting knowledge and watching events unfold." It paused briefly, staring at Taylor in a way that made her feel as though it was peering directly into her soul, before adding, "Now, I'm here to help you."
"Help me? How?"
Muninn puffed up slightly. "I can scout and gather knowledge—just as I did for Odin. My speed is decent for now, reaching up to a hundred miles per hour, though I can push it to a hundred and thirty if needed. Eventually, I'll be much faster. I can also guard you against magic, protect your mind, and even help you recall things you've forgotten."
He paused, tone growing serious. "If needed, I can open glimpses into other realms, give you some healing, or rally your allies when things get bad."
"But don't rely on me too much," he added, shaking his feathers. "I'm not at full strength yet."
"Hundred and thirty miles per hour? That's... kind of insane," Taylor breathed, her mind spinning. "Wait, so you're telling me I have a super-speedy, smart pet with powers to help me?"
"I wouldn't exactly call myself a 'pet,'" Muninn grumbled, sounding affronted. "I'm a companion. There's a distinction."
Taylor couldn't help but grin. "I mean, come on, you're kind of both, right? A super-cool companion-pet with powers?"
Muninn's wings flared slightly, as if offended. "Not a pet."
Taylor grinned despite herself. "Okay, okay. You're amazing. A super-cool companion, not a pet."
Muninn flared his wings slightly, as if offended. "Not a pet."
"All right, got it." She stifled a laugh. "But seriously, you're amazing. You've got more powers than some capes. The PRT would probably classify you as a Master, maybe even a Brute with your speed and protective abilities."
Muninn tilted his head, considering. "Master? Brute? You humans love your categories."
Taylor blinked, her thoughts racing. "Wait, did you say you can guard my mind? Like, stop Master effects?"
"As long as I'm with you," Muninn said confidently, "nothing will harm or alter your mind."
Her eyes widened. "So, full-on protection from Master influences?"
"Nothing's absolute," Muninn corrected, preening his feathers. "But with me, it'll be very difficult for anyone to get through."
Taylor shook her head, still trying to comprehend. "That's... incredible. You're like a one-bird defence system."
"Just don't call me a pet again," Muninn muttered, making a low caw. And if a bird could roll its eyes, Taylor was sure he just had.
After a pause, her smile faltered. "So, how did I even get here? To this church? Was that... Odin?"
The raven gave a low croak. "Not exactly. When Odin said he 'cast his essence' out to find you, he was simplifying things. It wasn't just magic floating through space. He tasked me with finding you, Taylor. I carried the Odinforce across realms and worlds to reach you."
Her eyes widened. "You carried it? Across realms?"
"Yes," Muninn replied. "It took time, but I found you. And it was with the last remnants of that energy that I scouted your world, learning all I could to help you."
Taylor's heart skipped a beat. "And... you saved me? From the locker?"
Muninn dipped his head. "I did. With what little energy I had left, I pulled you from that place."
Taylor swallowed hard, emotion tightening her throat. She didn't know what to say. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Don't thank me just yet," the raven said, a touch of amusement in his voice. "I won't be able to help like this again for a long while. The power Odin gave me is fading."
As if on cue, Taylor felt a pang of urgency. "I really need to get home. My dad's going to lose it if I'm not back soon." She glanced at the door again, worry etched on her face. "But I can't just walk. There's no bus in this part of the city, and I have no idea how long it'll take to get back…"
Muninn let out a low chuckle. "Ah, that's where I come in—one last time before I go silent."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Taylor," Muninn said patiently, "you're no longer just human. You've merged with the Odinforce. Your body is Asgardian now."
Taylor's eyes widened. "Wait... what?"
"You're stronger, faster, more durable. You've already changed more than you realize."
Taylor stared. "How is that even possible?"
Muninn's eyes gleamed. "This is just the beginning. You'll soon undergo another transformation as your body and soul continue to adapt. But for now, you already have the strength to leap across great distances—faster than you ever imagined."
He paused, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. "Your new Asgardian form has given you extraordinary capabilities. You can harness the energy within you to propel yourself through the air with remarkable speed. This ability isn't just about raw power; it's about precision and control. As you grow more accustomed to this power, you'll find that it becomes second nature, allowing you to move with both grace and force."
Muninn's voice took on a reassuring tone. "For now, use this power wisely. Focus on mastering the basics and learning to control your leaps. The more you practice, the more you'll understand how to channel this energy effectively. Remember, this is just the beginning of your journey with the Odinforce."
Taylor blinked, struggling to fully grasp what Muninn was saying. "You're telling me I can just... jump home?"
"Exactly," Muninn confirmed, his voice steady and encouraging. "You have enough energy within you now. Just focus deep within yourself. Feel the power of the Odinforce. Let it guide you."
Taylor hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. Could she really do this? The idea felt both exhilarating and daunting. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to center herself. She tuned into the strange, throbbing energy coursing through her, a sensation like a powerful hum vibrating just beneath her skin. It was as if a living force was coursing through her veins, waiting to be unleashed.
With intense concentration, she reached deeper, searching for the core of this energy. As she focused, the sensation grew stronger, flaring to life with a vivid intensity that almost felt tangible. The energy surged within her, and she could sense its potential, a force that seemed both immense and finely tuned.
Her eyes flew open, and they glowed faintly gold, reflecting the newfound power within her. The energy felt vibrant and alive, ready to propel her with a strength she could barely comprehend.
Taylor crouched low, her legs tensing as power coiled within them. But then she caught sight of her reflection in a dusty window—her face, completely exposed. Unease crept over her.
She quickly turned and exited the church through a side door, leading to a narrow alleyway. Spotting an old, tattered scarf on a dumpster, she grabbed it and fashioned a makeshift mask. Adjusting it, she scanned the street. She couldn't risk being seen, not yet.
As she adjusted the scarf, Taylor realized she couldn't risk being seen if she leapt directly home. Even a brief appearance in her neighbourhood might draw unwanted attention.
She'd been in the Bay long enough and was enough of a cape geek to understand the statistics, the dangers that new parahumans faced and the risks of drawing attention. She was a prime target for the Empire—young, white, and with powers that had a Norse theme. That combination would make her a top target. And it wasn't just the Empire; other villains and players in the city would love to exploit her vulnerability.
She also had to consider her dad. Despite the distance that had grown between them since her mother's death, she couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to him because of her newfound powers. As she ran through the possibilities of how to keep both herself and her father safe, it became clear: she needed to stay anonymous for now. She had to learn more about her powers and how they worked, build up a reputation for herself, and gain some understanding before considering joining the Wards.
With the makeshift mask in place, Taylor focused on a nearby alley, away from the main streets. She crouched low, her legs tensing with the stored power, and then, with a powerful leap, she soared into the air.
The world blurred around her as she leapt through the city, the ground rushing past in a dizzying whirl. Taylor felt the exhilarating rush of wind and the sheer thrill of defying gravity with each powerful jump. It was as though she was momentarily shedding the constraints of the earth, her heart racing with the joy of her newfound ability. Each leap was a dance with the air, an echo of the freedom she had always admired.
When she landed lightly in the dark alley, her feet barely making a sound, she marvelled at the sensation of it all. Her scarf mask fluttered slightly, a reassuring symbol of her transition from an ordinary life to this extraordinary one. The sounds of the city, the distant hum of traffic, and the cool night air all seemed to come alive in new and vivid ways.
Taylor looked up at the sky, a dark canvas where stars twinkled faintly. She thought of Alexandra, her childhood hero, who could soar through the skies effortlessly. Taylor had always been mesmerized by Alexandra's ability to fly, imagining herself in those breathtaking, airborne moments. Now, as she stood on solid ground, she felt a deep connection to that dream. Her leaps might not be the same as flying, but they were a step toward that sense of liberation and power she had always admired.
There was a profound sense of accomplishment in feeling this way, a deep-seated realization that she was living part of the dream she had cherished for so long. The thrill of soaring through the air, even if only for short bursts, was intoxicating. Yet, with this newfound exhilaration came the weight of responsibility. Taylor knew that each leap brought with it new challenges and opportunities.
Taking a moment to catch her breath and ensure she was alone, she removed the scarf and tucked it into her pocket. Feeling a mix of relief and disbelief, she then made her way through the alley and onto the quieter streets, finally heading home.