December 29th, 2010.
I waited until dawn that morning to finally make my way to what would be my future home for a time.
By no means did I plan to stay there forever, but seeing as I was jobless with only six grand to my name, it would have to do for now.
Not that six thousand dollars wasn't a lot of money, but it would go toward food, water, clothing, and other necessities rather than an actual apartment.
The building was exactly as I expected, pretty run down. Moss grew along the sides of the brick, a few windows were broken, and there were definitely a nest or two of critters that had made this place their home.
At least it wasn't a homeless den.
Unfortunately, I didn't have the keys and had no idea where they were, so I would have to make do on my own.
Luckily, I had super-strength and simply broke the locking mechanism, forcing my way in.
The entrance to the stairway leading to the loft was on the side of the building, while the garage door made up the entire lower half.
Seeing as I had no wish to deal with the vermin likely nesting in my garage, I decided to start with the living area first.
I was slightly curious why Dr. Stasis had several safe houses if he was just going to let them fall into squalor, but who was I to question the mad scientist who tortured babies for fun?
Breaking the lock on the second door, I pushed open the old oak and got my first look at what would likely be my home for the foreseeable future.
It was empty.
Two large support beams stood in the center of the room, a few feet apart.
An old fireplace, looking like it hadn't seen use since the fifties, sat in the middle of the western-facing wall, made from the same red brick as the rest of the building.
Hey, at least I wouldn't need to worry about heating.
A few feet away, tucked into the corner, was an old kitchen that hadn't been updated in decades, an ancient gas stove that would definitely need a deep clean, a sink half-eaten by rust, and wooden cabinets that had clearly rotted out judging by the smell.
On the southernmost wall, overlooking the street, were three large vertical windows that were surprisingly intact, thank God.
A door in the right corner of the room opened to reveal a dated bathroom with running water, at least, and another door revealed a ladder covered by a hatch that led to the roof.
All in all, it wasn't as bad as I was expecting.
Well… not including the garage.
Luckily for me, I'm a Viltrumite. Which meant one thing.
Super-speed cleaning.
Grabbing an old broom leaning against the wall, I made quick work of the dust and grime buildup.
Seeing as that was the last of the cleaning supplies, I made my way down to the nearest hardware store and bought the essentials.
After that, I hit a thrift shop, hoping to find any secondhand pots, pans, furniture, and even a mattress that I could fix up rather than spending an astronomical sum on a new set.
A dresser, bedframe, ratty old mattress, and a set of pots and pans later, I was back in the loft, cleaning as fast as possible.
In total, a job that would have taken a normal person an entire day took me ten minutes.
Ahh… how mundane. Using my powers to do menial tasks. This is definitely what the god who brought me to this universe intended.
But that's how life goes. Especially when I didn't get a magical wheel that gifted me money on a silver platter. Or get born into a loving family who could provide for me.
No, I got stuck in a lab with a mad scientist to be experimented on for sixteen years.
Sure, I didn't actually live through it, but I sure as hell have the memories of it.
With those memories came every single feeling experienced.
And they weren't happy ones, I'll tell you that right now.
It had me thinking about how I was going to get a proper income this time around. In my old life, I had a part-time job at the library near my group home that paid decently.
Back then, I didn't have to worry about paying for food or clothing, but now that was definitely the case.
I guess I could make my own clothing with the 3D printer in the ship, I'd just need the fabric for it.
Maybe I could break down some of those old Viltrumite suits and use them?
A problem for another day. Right now, it was time to establish myself before I started making big-time money moves.
—
(Third Person POV)
Hovering in the skies just off the coast of the eastern seaboard was a massive aircraft carrier, invisible to the human eye, cloaked by technology specifically developed to give his organization the ability to operate unseen throughout the war.
Nicholas J Fury, Director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, otherwise known as SHIELD, stood in a conference room surrounded by his most trusted agents, receiving the report from the team that had returned from the mission only moments prior.
Images on the screen displayed a giant crater in the Utah desert, two hundred feet in length and twice that in depth.
Usually, this would not warrant his attention, but it was the remains of an underground facility found within the crater, along with the tremors that had preceded its collapse—that had SHIELD looking into the situation more closely.
"Report, Agent Coulson."
"We received reports from locals up to a hundred miles away from the scene stating they felt recurring tremors at 19:00 hours on December 27th. These tremors occurred every few seconds for ten minutes straight before slowing to intervals of a few minutes, finally stopping after nearly an hour," the man reported in a businesslike tone.
"Our nearest response team arrived on site four hours later to find the crater had expanded beyond the initial descriptions given by the locals who had come to inspect the scene.
Shortly thereafter, we deployed a team into the crater to gather data and discovered it had been housing a fifty-floor, four-thousand-square-foot metal facility deep beneath the surface.
Judging by the erosion surrounding the structure, our scientists estimate the facility was built sometime in the early nineties and remained operational from that point until recently.
After a full day of excavation, we recovered the remains of nearly three hundred armed mercenaries carrying advanced energy weaponry, many of whom were likely dead prior to the collapse.
Finally, on the lowest floor, four rooms of significance were discovered. One was a nursery, while the other three resembled the living spaces of a growing child."
Coulson finished, standing at attention as his boss's single eye studied the images displayed across the screens.
"Were we able to recover any data?" Fury asked.
Coulson shook his head. "Negative, sir. We located what appeared to be a central data room intact, but the systems were destroyed before the cave-in."
Fury hummed, his good eye flicking from screen to screen as he tried to piece together the story.
"Give me your thoughts, Coulson."
"From what we were able to determine, it appears whoever was operating the facility was raising a child from birth, sir. We are unsure of the child's identity, but we theorize they were enhanced."
"And the child likely grew tired of captivity and took matters into their own hands," Fury finished. Coulson gave a single nod in agreement.
"Get me surveillance from any town within a three-hundred-mile radius. We're looking for a child, age range fourteen to twenty, judging by the age of the facility. Focus on anyone out of place, exhibiting unusual behavior, or showing signs of prolonged abuse. I want a report on my desk by Sunday. Dismissed."
Fury watched as those in the room saluted before filing out, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He continued to stare at the monitor, flipping through image after image, the massive crater, the remains of the armed guards, the gear and weapons they carried rivaling SHIELD's own.
Whoever had been running that lab had access to extremely advanced technology. That worried him.
Many of his agents thought him paranoid, believed it pointless to chase down the mystery of a non-descript crater.
Fury knew better. The world was changing, had been changing for nearly two decades.
He had known it the moment aliens breached their airspace and were only stopped by the good grace of Danvers.
But Danvers was no longer on this planet, too busy gallivanting across the stars. That left him to do the dirty work—to make sure Earth would be ready the next time something came knocking.
And if that time came—
Fury would make damn sure they were prepared.