Thunder rumbles as the scene shifts back to Dante's house, where the real tension is about to unfold
Back on Midgard...
Dante stood frozen in his living room, both parents now staring at him expectantly. His mother had just walked through the door, still carrying her purse, while his father emerged from the hallway in fresh clothes, hair still damp from his shower.
"So... mom, dad..." Dante's voice cracked slightly. He could hear Astrid moving around upstairs, probably examining his room with the same intense curiosity she'd shown the bus. "I, uh... I brought home a friend."
His mother raised an eyebrow. "A friend? Dante, you know the rules about having people over without asking first."
"I know, I know, but this is... different. She's..." Dante's mind raced. How do you explain finding a delusional girl in the forest who thinks she's an Asgardian goddess? "She's new to the area. Like, really new. And she's... having some family troubles."
His father crossed his arms belt buckle unlocked. "What kind of family troubles?"
Before Dante could answer, a loud CRASH echoed from upstairs, followed by Astrid's voice: "Dante! This magical viewing box has imprisoned small warriors inside it! How do I free them from this sorcery?"
Both parents' heads snapped toward the ceiling. His mother's eyes went wide. "Dante... is that a girl in your bedroom?"
"uh, uh It's not what it sounds like! She is from my school" Dante protested, already heading for the stairs. "She's just... she's never seen a TV before. She's from a very... remote place way up in the country yu know."
Another crash, then Astrid's frustrated growl: "These tiny people refuse to obey my commands!"
His father was already moving past him up the stairs. "Remote place or not, we need to meet this girl. Now."
Dante's stomach dropped as he followed his parents upstairs. Through his open bedroom door, they could see Astrid standing in front of his dresser mirror, apparently having a heated argument with her own reflection.
"You dare mock me, a cursed magical box !" she was saying, pointing dramatically at the game over sign on the television. "I am Astrid Odinson, and I will not be—"
She turned as the three figures appeared in the doorway, and for a moment, everyone froze.
Dante's parents took in the sight before them: a teenage girl in what looked like elaborate cosplay armor, standing amid the wreckage of Dante's lamp (again) and several scattered video games. Her long hair was disheveled, her armor gleamed despite the dents, and she held herself with the bearing of someone far older than her apparent fourteen years.
"Mom, Dad," Dante said weakly, "this is Astrid she was uh home school and... And her parents sent her to my school recently" .... Thought in his head yeah that can work.
Astrid straightened, placing her fist across her chest in that formal gesture she'd used at the police station. "Greetings, elder mortals. I am Astrid, daughter of Odin All-Father, princess of—"
"Nope," Dante's mother interrupted, stepping forward with that particular tone mothers use when they've had enough. "Just nope. Dante Antonio Martinez, you will explain right now why there's a mad gal in that costume in our house talking about being the daughter of a Norse god."
Astrid's eyes flashed dangerously. "Costume? How dare you suggest that the royal armor of Asgard is mere—"
"Astrid," Dante said quickly, remembering how she'd reacted to the police officer's dismissiveness, "these are my parents. They're good people, but they don't... they need things explained differently."
His father stepped closer, and Dante could see him taking in Astrid's appearance with the careful eye of someone trying to assess a situation. "young lady," he said gently to Astrid, "that's some very impressive armor you're wearing. Did you make it yourself?"
Astrid blinked, clearly not expecting the respectful tone. "It was... forged in the fires of Asgard by the finest smiths in the Nine Realms."
"The craftsmanship is remarkable," his mother added, though Dante could hear the underlying concern in her voice. "Where exactly are you from, honey?"
"I have told you—"
"She's from up north," Dante interjected desperately. "Way up north. Like, really isolated community. They have... different customs. Yu know Norway and her family moved here from there "
Both parents looked at him with expressions that clearly said they weren't buying it, but his mother's training as a nurse was kicking in. She moved closer to Astrid with gentle, non-threatening movements.
"Astrid, sweetie, when was the last time you ate something? And where are your parents right now?"
For the first time since they'd met her, Dante saw Astrid's composure crack slightly. Her proud stance wavered, and something vulnerable flickered across her face.
"My parents are..." she began, then stopped. "My father banished me. I am... I am alone."
Dante"she is in a highschool dorms "
The Astrid catching reaffirms that" yes yes I am staying at the dorms of this realm"
The room fell silent. Even through her delusions or whatever this was, the pain in those words was unmistakable.
Dante's mother exchanged a look with his father—one of those wordless parental communications—before turning back to Astrid.
"Well," she said firmly, "you're not alone now. Astrid, you'll stay for dinner, and we'll figure out how to contact your family."
"But I must retrieve my sword from the Blue Mountains," Astrid protested. "Dainsleif fell from—"
"The Blue Mountains can wait until morning," Dante's father said with quiet authority. "Right now, you need food and rest."
As his parents headed downstairs to start dinner preparations, Dante found himself alone with Astrid again. She was staring out his bedroom window toward the distant mountains, her expression unreadable.
"Your parents are... kind," she said quietly. "Even though they think me mad."
"They don't think you're mad," Dante lied. "They're just... confused." also I think I barely escaped a ass whooping
Astrid turned to him with that piercing gaze. "You think me mad as well. I can see it in your eyes, Dante of Midgard. You believe I have suffered some injury to my mind."
Dante opened his mouth to deny it, but something in her expression stopped him. Despite everything—the delusions, the armor, the talk of gods—there was something in her eyes that looked far too old and far too sad for someone playing pretend.
"I don't know what to think," he admitted. "But I know you need help. And... I want to help you."
Before Astrid could respond, both of them felt it—a strange vibration in the air, like the moment before lightning strikes. Outside, the sky darkened unnaturally fast.
Astrid's head snapped toward the window, her entire body going rigid. "No," she whispered. "They would not dare..."
"What? What is it?"
In the distance, barely visible against the suddenly stormy sky, three dark shapes descended toward the Blue Mountains like falling stars—but these stars moved with purpose, their trajectories controlled.
"Hela's soldiers," Astrid breathed, terror and fury warring in her voice. "They have come for me."