Cold.
A sharp, biting cold tore through my skin before I even opened my eyes. My face was half-buried in something soft and powdery, and every inch of my body screamed one coherent message:
Get up or you're going to freeze to death.
I groaned, pushing myself up onto my elbows. White flakes clung to my eyelashes as I blinked, trying to clear my vision.Snow.A lot of it.And me, lying in the middle of it wearing clothes that were definitely not designed for arctic conditions — more fantasy-witch than medieval-survivalist.
"...Great start," I muttered, shivering violently.
No way was I going to let my immortal, god-tier magical reincarnation end because I caught hypothermia on day one.
I lifted my hand, focusing on the mark hidden on my skin — the gateway to my Infinite Dimensional Library.
A pulse of energy answered.Reality rippled.And a book dropped into my hand with the satisfying weight of perfect narrative convenience.
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two.Harry Potter universe. Exactly what I needed.
I flipped it open with numb fingers until I found the page.
Warming Charm.Incantation: Hot-Air Charm (Calidi Ventus) or an equivalent variant.
My magic flared to life instinctively, eager, obedient, overflowing with talent. I read the spell once — that was all I ever needed now.
Heat blossomed inside my chest, racing across my skin like the sun breaking through storm clouds.
"Calidi Ventus."
Warmth enveloped me instantly, a soft shield that melted the snow at my feet. My shivering stopped. Sensation returned to my hands. The bitter air no longer bit into my lungs.
"I am never letting myself be cold again," I sighed.
The immediate crisis handled, I switched into planning mode — something my newly enhanced, god-tier intelligence practically dragged me into.
"Okay… first priority."I turned slowly, scanning the white horizon."Figure out where the hell on Earth I am."
No landmarks.No buildings.No roads.Just endless snow and a distant line of dark trees.
I closed my eyes, pressing my palm to the snow. Cold, dense, but clean. High-altitude, or far north. Or winter somewhere medieval.
I needed more data.
I summoned another book — an advanced cartography tome from a universe that actually understood magical geolocation.
But before I even opened it, something in the distance caught my attention:A column of smoke.
Not natural.Not wild.A thin, controlled plume rising from behind the treeline.
A village. Or a camp. Or… something else.
Finally, a lead.
"Perfect," I said, brushing snow off myself as I stood. "Time to get my bearings."
And with a warming charm cocooning me and five hundred years of preparation ahead, I began walking toward the smoke — the first step in shaping the worlds of Marvel and DC.