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The sword lay quietly beside Sif on the bed, its cold metallic surface reflecting the soft golden light of Asgard's chamber. Everything appeared calm, almost too calm. The faint breeze from outside drifted through the curtains, gently brushing across the room, carrying with it the quiet serenity of the divine realm.
Sif had already fallen asleep.
After everything that had happened, both her body and mind were exhausted. Her breathing was steady, her posture relaxed, and her expression no longer carried the sharp vigilance of a warrior. In this moment, she looked far more like an ordinary woman than a battle-hardened Asgardian soldier.
But the sword—
Moved.
At first, it was only a slight tremor, so faint that it could have been dismissed as imagination. Then, gradually, the blade began to blur. Its surface shimmered, breaking apart into countless tiny particles that floated silently into the air.
They gathered again.
Slowly forming a shape.
A human shape.
Jack.
He appeared beside Sif on the bed, replacing the sword entirely as if he had always been there. His eyes immediately settled on her, a faint, dangerous smile forming on his lips.
"So this is how the great Asgardian warrior looks when she's asleep…" he muttered softly.
There was amusement in his tone, but also something darker—something that lingered beneath the surface.
Jack tilted his head slightly, observing her.
"If I don't do something now…" he said quietly, "it really would be a waste."
The bed dipped slightly as he shifted his weight. Without hesitation, he moved closer, then pressed his body down onto hers.
The moment their bodies touched—
Sif's eyes snapped open.
"What—?!"
Her reaction was instant. Years of battle experience kicked in without delay. Her gaze sharpened immediately, locking onto Jack's face with a cold, alert intensity.
Jack looked down at her, completely calm.
"Awake already?" he said casually. "I thought you'd sleep a little longer."
Sif's expression turned icy.
"Get off me."
Her voice was low, controlled, but filled with authority.
Jack raised an eyebrow slightly.
"That's not very welcoming," he replied. "Is this how Asgard treats its guests?"
"Guest?" Sif's eyes flashed with anger. "You break into my room and call yourself a guest?"
Her body tensed beneath him, muscles coiling, ready to strike.
But—
She didn't move immediately.
Because something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
She hadn't sensed him.
Not even a trace.
For someone like her, that was impossible.
Which meant—
This man was dangerous.
Extremely dangerous.
Jack seemed to notice the hesitation in her eyes and smiled faintly.
"You're thinking about how I got here without you noticing, right?" he said.
Sif's pupils shrank slightly.
Jack chuckled.
"That expression suits you," he added.
"Enough."
Sif suddenly pushed forward, attempting to break free.
But Jack didn't move.
Not even slightly.
It was as if an invisible force pinned her down. No matter how she exerted her strength, she couldn't shift him even a fraction.
Jack looked at her, still smiling.
"Struggling won't help," he said. "You should already understand that."
Sif's expression darkened.
"…You're not human."
Jack tilted his head slightly.
"Did I ever say I was?"
For a moment, the room fell silent.
The atmosphere grew heavy, almost suffocating.
Sif's mind raced. Who is he? How did he enter Asgard? Why didn't Heimdall detect him? Every instinct told her that this man was not someone ordinary—he was something far beyond her expectations.
Jack, on the other hand, remained relaxed.
As if this entire situation was nothing more than entertainment.
"You were looking for your sword earlier, weren't you?" Jack suddenly said.
Sif froze slightly.
"…What do you mean?"
Jack's smile widened.
"You were holding me the whole time."
For a brief moment—
Sif's expression cracked.
"You—"
Before she could finish, her mind connected the pieces instantly. The strange feeling, the abnormal weight, the subtle unease she couldn't explain earlier—
It all made sense now.
"That sword…" she said slowly.
Jack nodded slightly.
"Exactly."
Sif's eyes turned cold.
"So you've been watching me this entire time?"
Jack didn't deny it.
"I was just observing," he said lightly.
"Observing?" Sif's voice dropped further. "You call that observing?"
Her anger was rising now, but beneath it, there was something else—
A trace of unease.
Jack leaned slightly closer.
"You're quite interesting," he said.
"Shut up."
Sif's patience was gone.
She twisted her body, attempting another escape.
This time, she shifted her weight differently, trying to create leverage.
But again—
It didn't work.
Jack didn't even need to apply visible force.
He simply remained there, effortlessly suppressing her.
"You're persistent," he said. "I like that."
"Let go of me," Sif demanded.
"And if I don't?"
Sif's eyes sharpened.
"Then you'll regret it."
Jack laughed softly.
"Regret?" he repeated. "That's a strong word."
He studied her for a moment.
"Tell me… what exactly can you do to make me regret it?"
Sif didn't answer immediately.
Because she knew—
Right now—
She couldn't do anything.
And that realization made her even more furious.
Jack seemed to enjoy that expression.
"You Asgardians…" he said slowly, "always think you're above everyone else."
Sif's eyes flashed.
"Don't insult Asgard."
Jack smirked.
"I'm just stating facts."
The tension between them continued to rise.
Every second felt heavier than the last.
Sif's breathing became slightly uneven—not from fear, but from suppressed anger.
Jack, however, remained completely composed.
As if he was in control of everything.
Then—
He moved slightly.
Not attacking.
Not retreating.
Just enough to shift the balance.
Sif's body tensed instantly in response.
Her instincts were screaming at her now.
This man—
Was not someone she could fight normally.
Jack looked into her eyes again.
For a brief moment, his expression changed slightly.
Still smiling.
But sharper.
More dangerous.
"Relax," he said softly.
"I'm not here to kill you."
Sif didn't relax.
Not even slightly.
"…Then what do you want?"
Jack paused for a moment.
Then smiled again.
"That's a good question."