Jack and Sigurd stood motionless, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of modern civilization. Cars honked, neon lights flickered, and towering skyscrapers loomed above them. For Jack, it was familiar, yet after his harrowing journey through time, it felt surreal. For Sigurd, it was an entirely new world, one beyond his comprehension.
Sigurd took a cautious step forward, marveling at a passing bus. "These metal beasts," he muttered, gripping his spear tighter. "They do not walk, yet they move swiftly."
Jack exhaled, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "We need to get somewhere safe," he said, lowering his voice. "We can't just stand out here." He pulled Sigurd along the sidewalk, attempting to blend in. The Viking's primitive attire, however, drew more than a few stares.
As they moved through the city streets, Jack felt an unsettling sensation—the artifact in his pocket was pulsing with a rhythmic energy. He took it out and saw that the symbols on its surface had shifted again, glowing faintly. His stomach tightened.
Before he could process it, a man in a dark suit stepped into their path. He had piercing eyes and a knowing smirk. "Mr. Carter," the man said, eyeing the artifact. "You've been on quite the journey."
Jack's breath hitched. "Who are you?"
The man's smirk widened. "Let's just say I work for people very interested in what you've been up to. And we'd like to have a word."
Sigurd instinctively positioned himself between Jack and the stranger. "I do not like this man," he growled.
Jack clenched the artifact, realizing that whatever had brought them here wasn't done with them yet.
The adventure was far from over.