Nido never liked museums. Too quiet. Too many "DO NOT TOUCH" signs. And worst of all... no snacks. So, when his history teacher, Mr. Becker (a man whose voice could cure insomnia), announced a field trip to the Norse Mythology Museum, Nido knew he was in for a full day of yawning, shoe-squeaking, and pretending to care about ancient stuff he couldn't eat or plug in.
Still, it beat algebra.
"Guys, look at this!" said Jenna, the class president and overachiever-in-chief, pointing at a massive display case. "It says this sword belonged to Odin himself!"
"Cool," Nido said, though his eyes were locked on the vending machine near the exit. The ancient Norse gods apparently didn't invent chocolate bars, which, in Nido's opinion, was their biggest failure.
He drifted closer to the case, mostly because it was the only thing with a dramatic spotlight and a lack of Mr. Becker. Inside was a sword handle—no blade. Just a chunk of ornate metal, silver and black, runes etched along the grip like cosmic graffiti. The label underneath read:
"The Bladeless Sword of Odin: One of Four Legendary Artifacts. Said to contain the soul of a forgotten storm."
"So... a glorified stick," Nido muttered.
Then he heard it.
"You're late."
Nido blinked. "What?"
"I said you're late, kid. Took you long enough."
The whisper wasn't in the room. It wasn't even in his ears. It was in his head. Which, for someone who once forgot his age, was a big upgrade in terms of weirdness.
He leaned closer to the glass. "Did you just talk to me?"
"Mr. Nido!" Mr. Becker shouted from across the room. "Please do not press your face against priceless artifacts!"
"But it's whispering to me!"
Mr. Becker squinted. "That's what the voices said before they took your uncle to the hospital, isn't it?"
Before Nido could respond (or explain that he didn't have an uncle), the bladeless sword pulsed with a strange glow.
Then the room exploded in light.
And then—darkness.
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End of Chapter 1.
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