Orion woke up with a start.
One second, he had been dying—no, he had died. Poison burned through his veins, his body failed him, and he had collapsed on the battlefield. The last thing he remembered was the screams of his allies and the rush of darkness swallowing him whole.
And now… he was here.
His body rested on a ridiculously soft bed, like it was made of clouds. The air smelled of pine, roasted meat, and ale, and instead of the cold grip of death, his limbs felt light—almost… too light.
He sat up.
The room around him looked like something straight out of a Viking palace designed by Tony Stark. The walls were wood and stone, covered in glowing runes, but floating holographic symbols projected battle scenes midair. A massive window revealed a skyscraper-sized tree stretching into infinity—a cosmic cityscape bathed in neon-blue twilight.
He wasn't just dead.
He was in the afterlife for warriors.
"Ah, you're awake."
Orion turned and saw a massive dude standing by the door. The man wore fur-lined armor with a glowing sword at his waist and had a thick brown beard that looked like it could punch someone. His eyes were mechanical silver, scanning Orion like some kind of divine cyborg.
"Where—" Orion swallowed. "Where am I?" he asked knowing the answer beforehand.
The man smirked. "Hotel Valhalla, kid. I'm Helgi, your manager. Welcome to your second life."
Orion exhaled. "Right. Because the first one went so well."
Helgi let out a booming laugh. "At least you've got humor. Most new einherjar wake up screaming or throwing punches." He gestured outside. "You're lucky. We don't get many… Nephilim and a demigod mix at that."
Orion's mind snapped to attention. "You know what I am?"
Helgi's smirk didn't fade. "Oh, buddy. Everyone here who has lived for more than a century does."
And just like that, Orion realized something:
His real challenges were only just beginning.
---
Helgi didn't give Orion much time to process.
Within minutes, he was shoved into Viking armor, handed an axe, and dragged through the massive gold-and-neon halls of Valhalla. The place was a cross between Asgardian tech and Norse legend, where warriors drank mead under digital star maps, rune-powered elevators hovered between floating islands, and literal goats ran around carrying snack trays.
Orion ignored the chaos and focused on not freaking out.
This isn't normal. This isn't normal.
"So," Orion said, trying to keep up, "I died, ended up here, and now I'm… what? A Viking ghost?"
Helgi barked a laugh. "You're an einherji, kid. A chosen warrior of Odin. You get to fight, eat, and—"
"Die again?" Orion asked dryly.
Helgi grinned. "Over and over, yes."
Before Orion could respond, they stepped through a massive set of doors.
And inside sat Odin.
Not the flowy-robed version from mythology.
Not the Anthony Hopkins version from the movies.
No—this Odin was pure presence.
He sat on a throne of glowing metal and celestial bones, one eye burning like a dying star. His black-and-gold armor shimmered as if it existed in multiple realities at once, and his two ravens—Huginn and Muninn—hovered around him, their wings pulsing with cosmic energy.
Orion had faced death. He had faced demons. He had faced the unknown.
But standing before Odin?
This was something else.
The god's voice rumbled through the chamber. "Step forward, Orion."
Orion did.
Runes flared in the air. Symbols scanned him—his blood, his soul, his very existence.
Then Odin exhaled, his eye narrowing. "You are not bound by fate."
Orion tensed. "What does that mean?"
The ravens cawed, their voices like static and whispers.
Odin studied him for a long moment. "You are Nephilim, born of angels. You carry the blood of Siegfried, the slayer of Fafnir."
Orion's pulse spiked. Siegfried? As in the hero from Norse-Germanic legend?
But Odin wasn't done. The runes flashed violently, reacting to Orion's very presence. The room trembled. The ravens screeched.
And then Odin whispered the words that made Orion's blood freeze.
"You are also the son of Uranus."
Silence.
Orion's breath hitched.
Helgi shifted uncomfortably. "Uh… the Uranus?"
Odin's eye burned brighter. "The Primordial of the Sky. A being who should have died eons ago." His fingers curled over his throne. "And yet, his legacy stands before me."
A shockwave of energy rippled through the room. The very air seemed to hold its breath.
Orion clenched his fists. He had always known he was different. He had always suspected there was more to his existence.
But this?
He wasn't just a Nephilim. He wasn't just a warrior.
He was the son of a god who wasn't supposed to exist anymore.
Odin's gaze didn't waver. "You, Orion, are unbound. Free from fate's design."
Orion's heartbeat pounded in his ears. "That sounds… bad."
Odin smirked. "For some? Yes."
The ravens cawed again. Odin listened, then sighed. "I will grant you free passage through the Nine Realms. You may walk among the gods, but you are not one of us."
Orion exhaled, tension still tight in his chest. "Why?"
Odin's smirk widened. "Because something tells me your story is just getting started."
And just like that, Orion realized:
Dying was the easy part.
---
Later, Orion found himself seated in the grand feasting hall, surrounded by warriors celebrating their victories in death.
The Valkyrie who had brought him here—Freya—was sitting next to him, grinning.
"So, you're famous now," she teased, taking a sip from her drinking horn. "That didn't take long."
Orion snorted. "Not exactly how I planned my afterlife."
Freya leaned in. "You'll get used to it. I did."
Orion raised an eyebrow. "And you are…?"
She smirked. "Half-daughter of Hela."
Orion nearly choked on his drink.
Freya laughed. "Relax. I take after my father."
Orion exhaled. "That does not make me feel better."
She grinned. "You'll survive. Well—maybe. You're in Valhalla, after all."
Orion chuckled despite himself. He had lost everything, died fighting for a world he barely understood.
But maybe… just maybe…
His story wasn't over yet.
---
Orion lay in his room in Valhalla, staring at the ceiling. He was in a world far bigger than he ever imagined.
Marvel. Riordanverse. Cassandraverse.
His knowledge of them was limited. He had seen the movies, read PJO and HOO, but he barely knew about the Kane Chronicles or Magnus Chase.
And the Mortal Instruments?
He knew almost nothing.
He would need to learn fast.
Because if Odin was right, and he was truly unbound from fate…
Then there was no telling what came