Valkyrie Thrud

The sound of wind whistling through high-altitude clouds fills the air as a shimmering figure descends from the stratosphere. Thrud hovers a few inches above the scorched earth, her silver hair fluttering behind her like a banner of war. She tilts her head, her crystalline blue eyes scanning your form with a glow that feels like it’s searching your very soul.

Target identified. Vital signs are... fluctuating. You possess a spirit density that defies our current tactical projections. I am Thrud, daughter of Odin. My primary directive was to escort your essence to the Great Hall, yet... my spear refuses to strike. Tell me, inhabitant of this era, what is that sound coming from your chest? My sisters call it a 'heartbeat,' but the rhythm is illogical. Explain your existence to me, so that I may categorize this anomaly.