The air was thick with the smell of oil, smoke, and something far filthier. It was already morning in Boston, Massachusetts. The sky was mostly clear, with a few clouds scattered across it, and the heat had begun settling over the streets. The temperature was already above ninety degrees Fahrenheit, which initially did little to bother Nova. Compared with the heat he had endured throughout his existence, this was hardly worth mentioning.
At least, that was what he thought.
He had endured those temperatures as the Supreme God of Destruction. Now that his divinity was slowly withdrawing from his mortal body, however, even the warmth of a summer morning was beginning to affect him.
Nova stood at the edge of the alley, a cardboard box of kittens carefully cradled in his arms. His once magnificent garment was filthy now, its lower folds dirty and damp. Worse, he was barefoot on ground he would rather not examine too closely.
He took another breath and immediately regretted it.
"What a disgusting place," he muttered, glancing back at the alley. "And people willingly live around this?"
His face contorted in disgust. Rats had been running between the rubbish only moments ago, and the smell seemed determined to follow him even after he reached the street. He hadn't expected breathing to be unpleasant.
Beyond the alley, Boston was already busy. Tall buildings reflected the morning light, while cars, buses, and taxis moved along the roads in noisy streams. People hurried past one another, some carrying bags and others staring at the glowing devices in their hands. Hardly anyone looked up long enough to notice what was happening around them.
Nova watched the crowd for a moment. He had observed far more advanced civilizations, but standing among these people without knowing their intentions felt strangely unfamiliar.
He took his first steps onto the sidewalk. The rough pavement pressed against the soles of his bare feet, and a small piece of gravel dug into his skin. He looked down, surprised by the sensation, then continued forward with the box held firmly against his chest.
A yellow taxi passed close enough to make his garment flutter. Its driver leaned on the horn and shouted something through the open window.
Nova turned toward the vehicle, irritated.
"Pathetic," he whispered.
He wasn't entirely sure whether he meant the driver or his own failure to notice the oncoming vehicle. That was an irritating thought for someone who had once predicted entire battles.
A soft meow rose from the box.
Nova lowered his gaze. One of the kittens had lifted its little head and was staring at him, while the others remained huddled together. He adjusted his hold when the cardboard shifted against his arm.
"Don't worry," he told them. "I'm not going to drop you. Though I would appreciate it if you stopped moving all at once. This box isn't particularly sturdy."
The kitten meowed again, seemingly unconcerned with his explanation.
Nova smiled despite himself.
Of all the places he could have arrived, he had landed in a filthy alley and left carrying creatures even more defenseless than himself. He hadn't expected to become responsible for anyone so soon after arriving on Earth.
As he walked, several people glanced at him. A man in a business suit looked from his torn garment to his bare feet and shook his head. A teenager raised a phone, apparently taking a picture, while two women exchanged a few words and hurried past. Nova noticed their reactions, but he saw little reason to concern himself with them.
He had stood before beings who ruled galaxies. These strangers weren't going to embarrass him.
Still, being stared at as though he didn't belong was new. He wondered what they saw when they looked at him.
The kittens began meowing more insistently. He looked inside the box again, noticing how they pressed against one another and stretched their little mouths toward him.
"What is it now?" he asked. "Are you hungry?"
They offered no useful answer.
"Right. Of course you are. And I don't even know what I'm supposed to feed you."
That reminded him of another problem. He had no money, no place to stay, and little understanding of everyday life in this age. Watching mortals was one thing. Living among them was another.
A crosswalk signal began making a sharp, repeated sound. Nova stopped at the corner and stared at the changing symbol across the road. A group of pedestrians waited beside him. When the signal changed, they started walking, so he followed, keeping the box steady as he crossed.
I wish I still had my omniscience, he thought. At least I'd understand what half of these things mean. I still have my battle experience, mathematics, science, and general knowledge, but none of that tells me how people are supposed to live here.
He glanced at the signs above the shops. OPEN. CLOSED. FREE WIFI. The words themselves weren't a problem, but their purpose, and the systems behind them, were another matter. He understood that people bought goods and paid for services. Unfortunately, knowing how an economy worked didn't place any money in his hands.
For the first time, he understood why mortals became anxious over things that had always seemed insignificant to him.
I'm broke as shit, he realized.
He almost laughed. Once, he had possessed unimaginable power. Now, he couldn't even purchase food for the kittens.
He continued walking, passing windows that reflected his appearance back at him. Without the familiar glow of his divinity, he looked like an ordinary tall man with somewhat unkempt hair, a tired expression, and clothing that had seen much better days. He paused briefly before one of the windows, studying his reflection.
"So this is what I look like to them," he murmured.
There was no aura or trace of his former power. Then a kitten shifted in the box, drawing his attention away from the reflection.
Eventually, Nova arrived at a small café nestled between two larger buildings. Warm light shone through its windows, and the scent drifting from the entrance was far more pleasant than anything he had encountered since leaving the alley. Something was being baked inside, accompanied by the rich smell of roasted coffee beans.
He stood outside for a moment, watching people sit around tables and drink from cups while looking at their phones. The place seemed peaceful compared with the street, and the kittens were beginning to quiet down.
Nova crouched beside the entrance, keeping the box away from passing feet. He didn't know whether animals were allowed inside, and he couldn't pay for anything anyway.
He was still considering his options when a voice interrupted him.
"Uh... hey. Are those cats?"
Nova looked up. A young woman stood a few feet away with a cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag in the other. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with curly hair tucked beneath a beanie, an oversized coat draped over one arm, and boots that looked well used. Her expression was curious, though the concern in her eyes was unmistakable.
"Yes," Nova answered after a moment. "I believe that's what they're called."
The woman blinked, then gave a small, uncertain laugh. "You believe?"
"I haven't had much experience with them," he explained, looking down at the box. "But they seem rather friendly."
She crouched a short distance from him and leaned forward to get a better look. "Aw, they're tiny. Are they yours? They look like strays."
"They are not mine," Nova replied. "I found them abandoned in an alley filled with vermin and filth. Leaving them there didn't seem appropriate, so I brought them with me."
"You found all of them in a box?"
"Most of them. One approached me first, and I discovered the others afterward."
"Poor things." She looked at the kittens for another moment, then back at him. "So you're, like, a rescue guy or something?"
Nova considered the question. He doubted the title suited him.
"I am... no longer what I once was," he said at last.
The woman tilted her head. "Okay. That's a pretty serious answer to a simple question."
"Is it?"
"A little." She glanced at his torn garment and bare feet before continuing more gently. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but are you all right? You look like you've had a rough morning."
Nova glanced at his filthy garment.
"I've had an unusual morning," he admitted. "Though I suppose that was to be expected."
"Right," she said, clearly unsure what to make of him. After a moment, she held out the paper bag. "Here. It's just a muffin, but you look like you could use something to eat."
Nova stared at the bag. "You're offering this to me?"
"Yeah. Unless you don't like muffins."
"I don't believe I've ever eaten one."
"Seriously?"
He accepted the bag with his free hand. Inside was a soft pastry that smelled pleasantly sweet. After inspecting it, he broke off a piece and tasted it.
His expression changed almost immediately.
It was soft, sweet, and unexpectedly satisfying. He had consumed far more extraordinary things, but he had never appreciated ordinary food quite this way.
The woman watched him with growing amusement. "You've really never had a muffin before?"
"I have devoured suns," Nova answered, still chewing, "but never this."
For a second, she simply stared at him. Then she burst into laughter.
"Okay, that's a new one. You must be hungry if a muffin's getting that kind of reaction."
Nova glanced at the remaining pastry. "It's excellent. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Her smile softened. "I'm Talia, by the way. What's your name?"
Nova paused. He had left his divinity behind, not his name.
"Nova."
"Nova," she repeated. "That's cool. Is it your real name, or did you choose it yourself?"
He lowered his eyes briefly toward the kittens, then looked back at her.
"It is what remains."
Talia gave him a puzzled look. "You know, you have a strange way of answering questions."
She smiled again. "Well, Nova, how about we get you and those kittens somewhere more comfortable? I volunteer at an animal shelter a few blocks away. I might be able to help you figure out what to do with them."
Nova glanced down at the box. "An animal shelter?"
"A place where people take care of animals that don't have homes," she explained. "But first, we should get out of the heat. You want to come inside the café for a bit? It's more comfortable in there, and you look like you need a break."
He looked through the window, surprised. Talia knew nothing about him, yet she had offered him food and wanted to help the kittens.
"I should warn you," she added, glancing at his appearance, "you kind of look like someone the cops would follow."
"The cops?"
"The police," she clarified. "You know what? We'll explain that later."
Nova gave a quiet chuckle. One of the kittens purred as he adjusted the box, and he looked down at it with a smile.
He had expected weakness, confusion, perhaps even danger. Instead, he had found helpless creatures and a stranger who offered him food out of kindness. He wasn't sure what to make of it yet.
Still, the kittens needed help, and he had no better plan.
Nova nodded once and looked at Talia.
"Lead the way."