"Where are we going?" Natasha asked, irritation creeping into her voice as she brushed past another low branch. "We're just walking through forest after forest. You said we're in another world, and now we're just… wandering."
Luke didn't even look back. "Patience, Natasha," he said calmly. "You don't get this kind of chance every day. Exploring a world of magic isn't something you should rush."
Wanda opened her mouth to say something, then hesitated. She felt different here—something quiet, heavy, almost ancient—but she couldn't see anything that screamed magic.
Then the forest ended.
The trees thinned, sunlight spilling through the gaps, and a few steps later they emerged into open land.
Vast green fields stretched endlessly before them, grass rolling like waves under the breeze. The land dipped and rose gently, untouched and wide, leading the eye toward distant mountains that stood tall and unmoving, their silhouettes sharp against the sky.
The air felt different here—clean, old, and calm, as if the land itself had been waiting.
Wanda stopped without realizing it. "…Oh."
Natasha fell silent, her usual sharp commentary missing for once.
Luke smiled faintly, watching their reactions. "See?" he said. "Magic doesn't always glow or explode. Sometimes it just exists."
The wind swept across the plains again, bending the tall grass in slow, rippling waves and carrying with it the clean, sharp scent of open land.
Natasha adjusted her jacket and looked around, eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the endless stretch of green. "So," she said, breaking the quiet, "are there humans in this world?"
"There are," Luke replied easily, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains. "Just not where we're heading."
Wanda glanced at him. "Then where are we going?"
Luke took another bite of the apple, unbothered. "Dwarves. And a dragon."
Natasha stopped walking for half a second. "You say that like you're talking about coffee and donuts."
Luke smirked. "Perspective."
What he didn't say out loud was that he'd already checked. This world wasn't in the era of great wars and burning towers yet. No rings dominating the fate of nations. No dark lords marching openly.
This was earlier.
A quieter age, relatively speaking.
The dwarves were already on the move somewhere far from here, led by a stubborn heir with more pride than sense.
A certain hobbit was still young, still clever, still about to stumble into a story that would echo for decades. Smaug still slept on his mountain of gold, arrogant and bored, convinced nothing in the world could truly threaten him.
Luke had no intention of changing the flow of that tale.
Some stories weren't meant to be interfered with. They were meant to be witnessed.
That said…
He glanced toward the distant peaks again, eyes thoughtful.
A real dragon was still a real dragon.
And having one as a companion sounded far better than conjuring an imitation.
"Before that," Luke said, "I won't do anything in this world. You two will have to protect me."
Using his powers too much already seemed to be triggering system glitches, so it was better to stop overusing them for now.
Natasha stared at him, openly incredulous.
"…Me? Protect you?"
She looked him up and down, then briefly at the reinforced combat suit she was already wearing. Even with all its enhancements, the idea felt absurd. Protecting Luke was like being assigned to guard a walking nuclear weapon.
Wanda didn't react much. Natasha, on the other hand, looked almost eager. After all, it was usually Luke protecting her—so being the one to protect him for once made her quietly happy.
"Don't worry, Natasha," Luke said, glancing at the companion module. "Soon, you won't be normal anymore."
Just as he expected, Natasha's name appeared—added as a companion.
Let's see if I can share my experience, he thought. He had billions of it stored; even a fraction—one million—would be more than enough to make her stronger.
Still, with the system glitching like this, he wasn't confident it would work smoothly.
But he tried anyway.
[Natasha Romanoff...]
[Exp... Shared]
[Reached Level 10]
[Choose a suitable class]
[Error...]
[Reached Level 30]
[Select suitable class]
Luke raised an eyebrow.
Skipped the first threshold and jumped straight to an upgrade… figures. Still, not bad.
He scanned through the available options until one stood out immediately—clean, lethal, and perfectly aligned with how Natasha already fought.
[Unique Class Acquired: Ether Huntress]
[Description: A warrior specialized in both firearms and close combat. Uses Ether energy to enhance weapons, physical parameters, and combat instincts.]
[Trait: Ether Energy]
The skill list unfolded beneath it.
[Skills]
1. Ether Blast
— Condenses Ether energy into ammunition, firing high-impact Ether rounds.
2. Phantom Step
— Short-range burst movement using Ether, allowing instant repositioning.
3. Ether Reinforcement
— Temporarily enhances strength, speed, and reaction time.
4. Spectral Aim
— Heightens perception and targeting accuracy; vital points become clearer.
5. Ether Veil
— Forms a thin Ether barrier that reduces incoming damage.
6. Ether Swordplay
— The user coats their sword with ether, allowing it to slice through even the hardest materials as easily as paper.
Luke nodded, satisfied.
"Yeah," he muttered. "That'll do."
Before Natasha could ask what he meant, crimson energy flared around her without warning. It didn't burn or sting—just settled, wrapping around her like a second skin.
A sword and a handgun materialized in the air beside her, hovering for a heartbeat before slowly drifting closer.
Natasha stiffened. "…Okay," she said carefully, flexing her fingers. "That's strange."
Luke glanced at her. "I upgraded you. You're stronger now."
"That's not ominous at all," Natasha replied dryly, though her eyes never left the weapon floating near her hand.
Luke tilted his head toward the clearing. "Try it. Swing."
Natasha hesitated for half a second—then reached out.
The sword snapped into her grip instantly, perfectly balanced, like it had always belonged there. She moved on instinct, not overthinking it. One clean motion. No wasted effort.
The blade passed through the air.
The boulder nearby split apart silently, collapsing into neatly sliced pieces a second later.
Natasha froze.
She stared at the ruined stone, then down at the sword in her hand, her grip tightening slightly as the reality caught up.
"…Did I do that?" she asked.
There was no panic in her voice—just disbelief, edged with something quieter. Wonder.
Luke shrugged. "Looks like it."
Natasha let out a slow breath, eyes still on the blade.
So this is what it feels like, she thought.
Superpowers.
*****
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