Bertinus could feel the rough stone beneath his back, the warmth of the Asgardian sun on his face. He sat up slowly, groaning as he stretched his arms. Every muscle ached, like he'd run for days without rest.
But when he looked down at himself, his eyes widened. His once-ordinary body was now covered in powerful, sculpted muscles, each one gleaming under the light. He reached up, feeling the thick, golden hair brushing his shoulders.
"This is insane…" he muttered, his voice now a deep, thunderous rumble that didn't sound like him at all.
He stood shakily, feeling the heavy weight of something on his hip. When he looked, his heart nearly stopped — Mjolnir hung there, humming with raw energy, as if it recognized him.
Bertinus took a step forward. The world around him shifted in dazzling, impossible colors. Ahead stood the Bifrost, the shimmering rainbow bridge that connected Asgard to all the realms. Its brilliance was overwhelming, a river of light flowing into the sky.
A sudden gust of wind swept across the bridge, and a figure appeared. It was Heimdall, the all-seeing gatekeeper. His golden eyes watched Bertinus calmly, and the massive sword he held gleamed in the light.
"You are not the Thor I knew," Heimdall said, his voice echoing like distant thunder.
Bertinus swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. "I… I'm not. I don't know how I got here, but I woke up like this. I'm Bertinus."
Heimdall studied him silently for a moment, then nodded. "If you are to wield Mjolnir and bear Thor's strength, you must prove your spirit matches the god's heart."
Bertinus felt his pulse quicken. "How?"
Heimdall turned, gesturing to the Bifrost. "Cross it. Without faltering. Without fear. Only then will you be accepted as Asgard's protector."
The bridge stretched out before Bertinus like a dream ;beautiful but impossibly long. Each step shimmered with power, a test of his new strength and courage.
He took a deep breath and set his foot on the bridge. Energy crackled under his boots, and lightning danced around his fingertips.
Every step felt like walking against a storm. Wind roared past him, lightning split the sky, and phantom voices screamed from the void below. The air smelled of burning ozone and old magic.
Halfway across, Bertinus stumbled. His mind screamed at him to turn back, to run away. But then he remembered his old life — the loneliness, the quiet regret of never doing anything truly brave.
"No," he growled, gripping Mjolnir's handle. "I won't fail. Not now."
With a surge of determination, he forced himself forward, pushing past the wind and the shadows. His feet pounded the bridge like thunderclaps.
At last, he reached the other side. His chest heaved, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.
Heimdall stood waiting, a slow, approving smile spreading across his face. "You have done well, Bertinus. You may not be Thor by blood… but you may yet become him in spirit."
Bertinus looked down at Mjolnir, and for the first time, the hammer glowed warmly in his hand — as if it truly accepted him.
A thrill of wild joy and fear rushed through him. He was no longer just a lost soul dropped into a god's body. He was Bertinus, reborn with the power of thunder.
He turned to face Asgard, the golden spires gleaming in the distance.
This was just the beginning.