The radio hummed with a catchy melody as Nita's fingers drummed against the steering wheel, her voice carrying the tune into the cool night air.
The windows were opened just enough to let in the autumn breeze, and she found herself singing along to the chorus she'd heard a hundred times before.
It had been a long shift at the hotel, but the night drive home always helped her unwind—something about the empty roads and the rhythm of the music made everything feel lighter.
She was thinking about the leftover pasta waiting in her fridge when her headlights caught something unusual on the side of the road.
A figure lay motionless on the grass embankment, barely visible in the darkness.
Nita's singing stopped abruptly as she slowed the car. "What the hell?"
She pulled over, her heart already racing.
In a city like this, a body on the roadside could mean anything—and most of those possibilities weren't good.
But as she sat there with the engine idling, something nagged at her. What if whoever it was needed help? What if they were just unconscious, not dead?
"Damn it," she muttered, reaching into her glove compartment. Her fingers found the small folding knife her father had given her years ago—not much, but better than nothing. She slipped it into her jacket pocket and stepped out into the night.
The air was colder than she'd expected, and she pulled her jacket tighter as she approached the figure.
It was a man, she realized, lying face-down on the frost-covered grass. He was completely naked, which made the situation even more bizarre and concerning.
"Hey!" she called out, staying a safe distance away. "Can you hear me?"
No response. She took another step closer.
"Sir? Are you okay?"
Still nothing.
The man's chest rose and fell with steady breathing, which was at least a good sign.
Nita circled around to get a better look at his face, keeping the knife within easy reach.
He appeared to be young, maybe late twenties, with dark hair and sharp features. Even unconscious and naked on the side of a road, there was something almost regal about him.
More importantly, she couldn't see any obvious injuries—no blood, no visible wounds.
Just a naked man lying unconscious in the grass like he'd fallen from the sky, but without a broken bone.
"This is insane," she whispered to herself. Every instinct told her to get back in her car and call the police.
Let them deal with whatever this situation was. But the temperature was dropping, and if this guy stayed out here much longer, hypothermia would be the least of his problems.
After another moment's hesitation, she made her decision. "Okay, crazy naked road guy, you're coming with me."
Getting him to the car proved more challenging than expected. He was completely dead weight, tall and muscular enough that dragging him required every ounce of strength she had.
By the time she managed to get him into her backseat and cover him with the emergency blanket from her trunk, she was breathing heavily and questioning her life choices.
"I should have my head examined," she muttered, starting the engine. She kept glancing in the rearview mirror during the drive home, half-expecting him to wake up and attack her, but he remained motionless.
Her apartment was on the third floor of an older building, and getting an unconscious man up two flights of stairs without attracting attention from her neighbors proved to be its own adventure.
By the time she finally got him settled in her spare bedroom—which doubled as her home office—she was exhausted.
She covered him with her heaviest blankets and stood there for a moment, studying his face. Up close, his features were even more striking. There was something almost otherworldly about his bone structure, like he'd stepped out of a Renaissance painting.
"What have I gotten myself into?" she asked the empty room.
After checking that her bedroom door had a working lock—just in case—Nita finally collapsed into her own bed.
Sleep came fitfully.
---
The sound of movement in the house pulled Caelus from the depths of unconsciousness like a fish being hauled from dark waters.
His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to unfamiliar surroundings. The ceiling above him was white and smooth, marked with strange rectangular fixtures that gave off artificial light.
The bed beneath him was soft but foreign, nothing like the crystalline surfaces he was accustomed to in the celestial realm.
Memory came flooding back in waves—his father's cold judgment, Malachar's betrayal, the burning sensation of his divine essence being stripped away.
He was mortal now.
Vulnerable.
Weak.
He sat up slowly, his body protesting with aches and pains he'd never experienced before.
Looking down, he realized he was completely naked beneath a collection of soft coverings.
The air was cool against his skin, and he could smell unfamiliar scents—cooking food, cleaning products, and something floral that might have been perfume.
Where was he? The last thing he remembered was falling through the void, his consciousness fragmenting as he tumbled between dimensions. Somehow, he had ended up in this strange place that felt nothing like any realm he knew.
The sounds of movement came from somewhere beyond the room's single door.
Cautiously, Caelus stood and moved toward the sound, his bare feet silent on the cool floor. His body felt heavy and clumsy without his divine enhancements, but his warrior's instincts remained intact.
He found himself in what appeared to be a living space, with furniture arranged around a large rectangular screen and shelves lined with books and strange decorative objects.
The sounds were coming from an adjoining room, along with the scent of food.
A young woman emerged from what he assumed was a kitchen, carrying a plate of small, colorful items.
She had shoulder-length brown hair and wore simple clothing—a loose shirt and dark pants. When she looked up and saw him standing there naked, she let out a sharp gasp and nearly dropped her plate.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, her face flushing red. "You're awake!"
Caelus regarded her calmly. "I am."
The woman—Nita—seemed flustered by his lack of concern about his nakedness. She set down her plate and hurried back toward the kitchen.
"I'll get you something to wear," she called over her shoulder. "And some food—you must be hungry."
She returned moments later with an armful of clothing, carefully keeping her eyes averted. "These might be a little big, but they should work."
Caelus accepted the garments without comment. The pants were made of a soft, gray material that fit reasonably well, though they felt strange against his skin.
The shirt was tighter, stretching across his chest and shoulders in a way that made the woman's eyes widen slightly when she finally looked at him again.
"Better," she said, though her voice was a little breathless. "I'm Nita, by the way. Nita Reeves."
"Caelus."
She frowned slightly at the unfamiliar name. "Caelus? That's... unusual. Where are you from?"
Caelus considered his options. The truth was clearly impossible, but he needed some explanation for his circumstances. "I don't remember," he said finally.
Nita's expression immediately softened with sympathy. "Memory loss? That would explain a lot. I found you on the side of Route 9 last night, unconscious and..." she gestured vaguely, "well, naked. No ID, no belongings, nothing."
She moved back to the kitchen and returned with another plate of food. "You should eat something. I don't know how long you were out there, but you must be starving."
The food was unlike anything from his realm—small, processed items that tasted of salt and artificial flavors. But his mortal body was indeed hungry, and he ate, while Nita settled into a chair across from him.
"Do you remember anything at all?" she asked gently. "Your family, where you live, friends?"
Fragments of his true memories flickered through his mind—the throne room, his father's judgment, Malachar's betrayal. But those belonged to a world this mortal woman could never understand.
"Nothing," he lied.
Nita nodded sympathetically. "Well, the important thing is that you're safe now. I was thinking of taking you to a hospital, but you don't seem to have any injuries. Maybe we should contact the police, see if anyone's reported you missing."
"No." The word came out sharper than he'd intended, and Nita looked startled. Caelus forced himself to speak more gently. "I mean, not yet. Perhaps my memories will return on their own."
"Of course," she agreed quickly. "No pressure. You can stay here while you recover."
After they finished eating, Nita glanced at her watch and sighed. "I hate to leave you alone on your first day, but I have to work. You're welcome to come with me if you want—staying here by yourself might be boring, and I won't be back until late."
Caelus considered this. He needed to understand this world if he was going to survive in it long enough to find a way back to his realm. "What kind of work do you do?"
"I'm a bartender at the Grand Metropolitan Hotel downtown. It's... well, it's not glamorous, but it pays the bills."
"I will come with you."
Nita smiled, seeming pleased by his decision. "Great! Let me just grab my things and we'll go."
The vehicle she led him to was a marvel of engineering, though primitive by celestial standards. As they drove through the city, Caelus observed everything with careful attention.
The architecture was crude but functional, and the streets were filled with similar vehicles moving in organized patterns.
But what struck him most was the inequality he witnessed.
They passed through areas where the buildings were crumbling and the people looked haggard and desperate, then through districts where everything gleamed with wealth and excess.
The contrast was jarring—in his realm, such disparities simply didn't exist.
"This world," he said quietly, "it's very divided."
Nita glanced at him curiously. "What do you mean?"
"The rich and the poor. They live such different lives."
She nodded sadly. "Yeah, that's capitalism for you. The gap just keeps getting wider." She turned up the radio, apparently hoping to lighten the mood. "Maybe hearing some music will help jog your memory."
Various sounds emerged from the device—voices singing over instrumental accompaniment, mostly about love and loss and longing. Nita sang along to several of them, her voice pleasant if untrained. She seemed to know all the words by heart.
"Any of this sound familiar?" she asked during a pause between songs.
"No," Caelus replied honestly. But internally, his thoughts were far from music. Even as he sat in this primitive vehicle beside this mortal woman, his mind burned with plans for revenge.
His divine powers were gone, but his knowledge remained.
Twenty years. That's what his father had decreed, but Caelus had no intention of waiting that long.
By then, Aethon would likely be dead of old age—even gods aged, eventually—and Malachar would be firmly established on the throne.
No, he needed to act quickly, while the memory of his betrayal still burned fresh.
But first, he needed to understand this world and its inhabitants. He needed allies, resources, and most importantly, he needed to find a way to reclaim at least some portion of his lost power.
"We're here," Nita announced, pulling into a parking area behind a massive building that stretched toward the sky.
The Grand Metropolitan Hotel was indeed grand, its lobby filled with marble surfaces and crystal fixtures that reminded Caelus somewhat of home.
But the similarity ended there. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, and the lighting was dim and suggestive rather than radiant and pure.
As they made their way through the main floor, Caelus observed the clientele with growing understanding.
Wealthy men in expensive suits occupied leather chairs and booths, while young women in revealing clothing moved among them like colorful birds.
The women were beautiful, but there was something hollow in their smiles, something desperate in the way they laughed at jokes that weren't funny.
"It's not exactly a church social," Nita said, apparently noticing his expression. "But the tips are good, and I need the money for school."
Before Caelus could respond, one of the women—a blonde with artificially enhanced features and a dress that barely covered her assets—bumped into him as she passed. The collision was clearly intentional.
"Well, hello there, handsome," she purred, running her eyes over his body with obvious appreciation. "I haven't seen you around before. How much are you willing to pay for a night you'll never forget?"
The woman's meaning was clear, and Caelus found himself oddly disturbed by the proposition.
In his realm, physical pleasure was a gift freely given between equals, not a commodity to be sold out of desperation.
Nita appeared at his side before he could respond. "He's not a customer, Candy. He's with me."
Candy's eyebrows rose in surprise and perhaps a touch of respect. "Well, well. Little Nita's got herself some handsome company." She winked at Caelus. "If you get tired of the amateur hour, honey, you know where to find me."
As Candy sauntered away, Nita's cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "Sorry about that. She's... well, she's Candy."
Caelus watched the woman disappear into the crowd, noting how the men's eyes followed her with hungry intensity. "She sells herself to these men?"
"It's not technically legal, but management looks the other way as long as they're discrete." Nita's voice was carefully neutral. "A lot of the girls here do more than just serve drinks."
"And you?"
"Just drinks," she said firmly. "I'm saving money for graduate school. This job pays well enough that I can afford to have standards."
Caelus nodded, filing away this information along with everything else he was learning about this strange world.
As Nita led him toward the bar where she would be working, he found himself wondering what other surprises this realm held.
One thing was certain—it was going to be a very long day.