Chapter 1: The Rift in the Sky

Clark Kent

The air was cold, colder than Clark had ever felt. He gasped as he hit the ground, his body folding awkwardly into the snow. His vision swam for a moment, and then he pushed himself up, brushing the powdery snow from his suit. He barely registered the cold; his mind was racing as he tried to understand what had happened.

He had been fighting against a cosmic anomaly, something threatening Earth—an endless rift in space and time that had torn the fabric of reality itself. One moment, he was standing in the heart of the chaos, battling to save humanity, and the next, the ground beneath his feet had disappeared.

Clark's senses were still overwhelmed. The wind bit through him like knives, and the snow clung to his body. He wasn't sure where he was or how he had ended up in this unfamiliar, freezing landscape.

His super hearing cut through the surrounding silence, but there was no trace of civilization. No city, no roads, no familiar landmarks. Just the stark, brutal cold of the mountains. He looked up, trying to find something, anything, that could explain where he was.

Nothing. The sky was a heavy blanket of gray, the wind sweeping across the vast plains of snow and ice. He tried to focus on his surroundings, but even with his heightened senses, he couldn't make out any discernible features that would give him a sense of direction.

Clark took a steadying breath. He needed to remain calm. His powers were still fully intact—his enhanced strength, speed, and vision, but there was no time to waste. He needed to find answers, or at the very least, find out where he was.

The wind picked up, swirling around him with an eerie howl, and Clark noticed a trail of footprints in the fresh snow. They led up toward a distant ridge, and despite the bitter cold, his curiosity drove him forward. Perhaps there would be answers at the end of those tracks.

---

Tormund

Tormund trudged through the snow, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the empty, frozen wilderness. There was something wrong. The land felt... off. The usual quiet was broken by a strange tension, a feeling of unease gnawing at him. Even the wind didn't seem right.

Behind him, a group of travelers followed, their faces tired and wary from days of travel. They had been moving northward, heading toward what they hoped would be a new home—a place where they could settle, away from the constant threat of the undead, away from the wars that had torn apart their people. But today, something felt different. Something was watching them, or at least, that's how it felt to Tormund.

He looked behind him at the woman following him, her fiery red hair whipping around in the wind. She had her bow slung across her back, a quiver full of arrows at her side. Her expression mirrored his own—alert, watching, waiting. It wasn't like her to be nervous, and that made Tormund even more uneasy.

"What's wrong?" the woman asked, her voice low.

"I don't know," Tormund admitted. "I've been leading us through worse than this, but something about today feels different. I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched."

The woman raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She trusted Tormund, and if he felt this way, she wouldn't dismiss it. Instead, she silently scanned the treeline ahead, her sharp eyes searching the horizon.

"Do you think it's the dead?" she asked after a moment.

Tormund shook his head. "No... It's not the dead. It's something else. Stay sharp."

As they continued moving, Tormund's instincts told him that danger wasn't far off. There was a presence lurking just beyond the edge of their vision, but he couldn't place it.

---

Clark

Clark followed the trail for what seemed like hours, his superhuman endurance making it easy to keep up with the travelers' footprints. He didn't know who they were, but whoever they were, they seemed like they knew how to survive in this harsh, unforgiving world. They didn't make many sounds as they moved, their steps almost imperceptible against the blanket of snow. But Clark's sharp hearing picked up the faint rustling of boots, the low murmur of conversation that he couldn't understand.

As he approached, he slowed his pace. He wasn't sure who these people were or what they might think of him. He didn't want to alert them to his presence. Not yet. Not until he understood the situation better.

The trail led him into a small clearing, and there, he saw them. A group of men and women, armed and moving in a tight formation, all with the look of hardened survivors. They didn't seem like ordinary travelers; there was a purpose to their movements, a readiness to face whatever threat was on the horizon.

Clark crouched low behind a tree, careful to keep his distance. He didn't know if they were hostile or not. For all he knew, they could be part of some larger force that he would have to confront. His mind whirred, calculating the best course of action.

Then, without warning, a guttural growl split the air, sending a chill down his spine. Clark's heart skipped a beat as he froze, his eyes darting to where the sound had come from.

The travelers around him immediately tensed. They had heard it too. One of them—an older man with a grim expression—muttered a curse, and they all scattered into positions, their weapons drawn and ready.

"Stay hidden," Clark murmured to himself, watching intently.

The growl echoed again, closer this time.

Clark didn't wait. Without thinking, he moved faster than humanly possible, blurring across the snow toward the sound of the creature. His speed was an advantage in moments like this—he could close the distance before anyone had a chance to react.

---

Tormund

Tormund's hand gripped the hilt of his axe tightly as the growl grew louder. The creature was close, much closer than he had anticipated. He gestured to the others, signaling for them to get into position. They had all heard the noise by now, and every one of them knew that they had to be ready.

The woman notched an arrow to her bow, her eyes narrowed in concentration. The rest of the group drew their weapons, forming a defensive line around Tormund, their eyes darting back and forth, looking for the creature.

"Get ready," Tormund hissed. "It's coming."

Suddenly, from the treeline, the creature lunged forward—a massive, hulking beast covered in fur, its glowing eyes fixed on the group. It moved with terrifying speed, its claws slashing through the air as it aimed for the nearest traveler.

Tormund swung his axe, but the creature ducked and dodged, faster than he had expected. The group scattered, trying to form a defensive circle, but the creature was too quick, too vicious. It attacked relentlessly, slashing and clawing, its roar filling the air.

And then, out of nowhere, the creature was sent flying, hurled into the trees by an unseen force. It landed with a sickening thud, momentarily stunned. The group froze, their eyes wide with disbelief.

Clark stood there, his chest heaving with exertion. His eyes were fixed on the creature, which was now struggling to rise to its feet. Clark's voice was calm, measured. "Stay back," he called out, his tone carrying across the clearing.

The travelers looked at each other, uncertain, as Clark slowly approached the beast. With a single, swift motion, he drove a fist into the creature's side, sending it crashing back into the snow.

The travelers gawked at the stranger—this man who had come from nowhere, who moved faster than any of them could see, and whose strength was beyond anything they had ever witnessed. The creature was defeated, but the tension was still thick in the air.

---

Tormund

Tormund stepped forward cautiously, his hand still resting on his axe. The stranger had just saved them—but who was he? And how did he possess such power?

"Who are you?" Tormund asked, his voice gruff.

Clark turned toward him, his eyes calm and steady. "I'm just trying to survive," he said, his voice soft but firm. "And maybe help. I don't know where I am, but I couldn't just stand by and watch that thing attack you."

Tormund's gaze narrowed, his suspicion still evident. "You've got a strange way of helping, stranger."

Clark glanced back at the beast, still sprawled in the snow. "I have certain... abilities," he said, vaguely. "But that's not important right now. What is important is that you're safe."

For a long moment, the travelers said nothing, exchanging wary glances. They had seen their fair share of strange things, but nothing like this. This man—whoever he was—was no ordinary traveler.

The woman lowered her bow slightly, though her eyes still held suspicion. "You didn't just appear out of nowhere," she said. "Who are you?"

Clark met her gaze. "Like I said, I'm just someone trying to survive."

Tormund, however, was more pragmatic. "You've helped us. For now, that's enough."

Clark nodded. "Then I'll stick around. I can be of help."

The group remained silent for a moment longer, but none of them attacked or tried to chase him off. Perhaps they had no choice but to accept his presence for now.

Tormund studied Clark closely, his instincts telling him that there was more to this stranger than met the eye. He wasn't certain if he could trust him, but for the moment, Clark had proven himself useful. The creature, though seemingly dead, still lay motionless in the snow, a reminder of the danger lurking in the wilderness.

The woman with the bow, the one who had looked at Clark with suspicion, finally spoke up again. "How did you do that?" she asked, her voice guarded but curious. "You moved faster than anything I've ever seen. And you... you didn't even break a sweat." Her eyes flicked over his attire—strange, unlike anything they had ever seen before.

Clark glanced down at his suit. It wasn't exactly practical for this kind of environment, but it was all he had left after the rift tore him away from Earth. He shrugged, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible. "I've had some training," he said quietly. "But I don't think it would be wise to discuss it right now. Not until we're somewhere safer."

Tormund grunted. "Safer? There's no safety in these parts. Just ask the dead, or the beasts that roam here. What do you want, stranger? What are you after?"

Clark paused. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved in a conflict he didn't fully understand, but there was no choice now. His curiosity and his need to find out where he was, and what exactly had happened to him, outweighed his concerns.

"I'm not looking for anything," Clark replied, his voice calm but firm. "I was trying to stop something... something that was tearing apart my world. And somehow, it brought me here. I don't know how, but I need to figure it out. I don't know where I am, or how to get back, but for now, I'm just trying to survive."

There was a long silence as Tormund absorbed this. The wildlings—Clark still didn't know who they were, but he could tell they were a tight-knit group—exchanged uncertain glances. The woman with the bow lowered her weapon, but her eyes remained cautious.

Tormund nodded slowly. "Survival, eh?" He let out a rough laugh. "That's something we know all too well. You've got a lot of questions, stranger. And I've got my own."

Clark sensed the unspoken wariness between them. It was clear that these people had seen a lot—things that Clark couldn't even begin to understand. But there was something else in Tormund's eyes, too. An unspoken respect, perhaps? Or a recognition of the kind of danger Clark had just helped them face.

"We can talk more once we're somewhere safe," Tormund said, his voice rough but not unfriendly. "We're heading to the north. It's a harsh land, but there's shelter there. If you're not a fool, you'll follow us. If you are a fool, we'll leave you behind. Simple as that."

Clark nodded, accepting the offer without hesitation. "I'll follow. I just need to know more about this place. What's out there? What's hunting you?"

The woman with the bow, who hadn't spoken much since Clark had arrived, finally spoke again. "The dead don't hunt us here, not in the way you're used to. It's not the walkers that we worry about, it's the beasts that lurk in these woods. Some are... unnatural."

Tormund gave her a sharp look. "Careful with your words, Ygritte," he muttered. "He doesn't know about those things."

Clark's brow furrowed. "Unnatural? What do you mean by that?"

Ygritte glanced at Tormund before speaking. "You'll see soon enough. There's worse than just the wild animals here. Things that aren't supposed to exist, but do. And they hunger."

Clark's mind whirled with the implications. He had been to so many places across the universe, and this world—this place—felt nothing like anything he had experienced before. Beasts, rifts in space, strange new people... but the danger that seemed to pulse in the air was undeniable. Whoever these travelers were, they had survived something unimaginable. Perhaps they knew more about the anomaly he had faced than he could guess.

Tormund gave a curt nod. "We've wasted enough time here. The sooner we move, the better."

Clark gave a small, appreciative nod, understanding the urgency in Tormund's voice. He didn't argue. He had no better plan, no direction to follow except these strange travelers. They were his best chance to figure out what had happened—and perhaps, how to return to his world.

As the group turned and began to move out, Clark fell in step behind them. His senses were on high alert. He didn't know where they were headed, but the chill in the air wasn't the only thing that sent a shiver down his spine. The tension among them was palpable, like they were all waiting for something to go wrong.

Clark couldn't help but wonder: What was he really walking into?

---

Tormund

As they moved, Tormund couldn't help but keep a wary eye on their new companion. The stranger—this man who had appeared out of nowhere and saved them from certain death—was more than he seemed. Tormund had seen many strange things in his time, but a man who could move like that? Who could strike with such force and precision? He didn't trust easily, and Clark had given him no reason to do so.

Ygritte, ever the skeptic, walked beside him, her expression hard to read.

"What do you think of him?" Tormund asked, his voice low.

Ygritte's eyes remained focused on the path ahead. "He's no fool. That much is clear. But he's hiding something. Maybe even more than we know."

Tormund grunted. "If he's hiding something, he's smart enough not to show it. I'd like to know more, but we'll have to wait. I trust no one who doesn't give answers right away."

Ygritte turned her head slightly, her lips curling into a faint smile. "What do you think he'll do if we try to attack him?"

Tormund didn't need to answer. The question hung in the air between them, and both knew the answer already.

Clark was no ordinary man.

---

As they continued their journey north, the strange tension between them remained. Clark felt like an outsider in this new world, unsure of the dangers and the people that surrounded him. He had faced many threats before, but this was different—he wasn't sure how or why, but he was determined to find out.

For now, he would follow them. They were his best lead.

But a small voice inside him wondered just how long it would take before the truth of who—or what—he really was, would come to light.