Chapter 1: Awakening
Snow.
It fell gently over the rooftops of Sokovia, covering the war-torn streets in a quiet, fleeting beauty. The world was always cold here, but to him, snow was something different.
A moment of silence in a life filled with noise. A moment where everything felt untouched, peaceful, and pure.
He loved snow.
Maybe that's why, on this day—the day his mind shattered and reassembled itself—he looked up at the falling snowflakes and smiled.
A World Not My Own
Pain.
A deep, splitting pain, like his skull was cracking apart. He clutched his head, gasping for breath as a storm of memories rushed in.
Cities towering over the clouds. Streets filled with metal beasts—cars. Light flashing from tiny glass screens—phones. And stories—stories that should have been fiction.
No. No.
His world, his past, his life before this one—he remembered everything.
His name wasn't Aleksander anymore, or whatever it was in this life.
His name was Alex in his past life. He had lived in another world, a different reality where all of this—Hydra, the Avengers, Ultron, Thanos—was just a story.
But now, it was real.
And he was here.
A tremor ran through his body. He turned his gaze to the sky, watching the snowflakes drift down. This isn't a dream. This isn't a hallucination.
This is the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
And I… I don't belong here.
A Mind Too Dangerous to Exist
Days passed, but his mind never stopped spinning. He knew too much. Too much.
Wanda Maximoff. Pietro Maximoff. The Mind Stone. Ultron. The Avengers. Sokovia's fall.
The Age of Ultron was coming.
His hands clenched into fists. He was just a child—ten years old—what could he possibly do? He had no powers, no superhuman abilities. In the grand scheme of things, he was a nobody.
And yet, deep in his heart, he felt it.
A choice.
Do nothing. Live quietly and wait for fate to take its course.
Or fight. Change something. Anything.
But fate had its own plans.
The Night Everything Changed
It was snowing that night. The soft crunch of fresh snow beneath his feet was a comfort as he walked home, pulling his thin jacket tighter around his frame.
Then—
A gunshot.
Then another.
Screams filled the air. Windows shattered. A distant explosion lit up the dark sky.
Alex froze. This isn't a normal attack.
His heart pounded as the door to his house was kicked open. Black-clad soldiers stormed in, rifles raised. Their movements were too precise, too controlled.
Not ordinary rebels. Not mercenaries.
Hydra.
His blood ran cold.
A man stepped forward, his voice a smooth, calculated drawl. "Take the boy."
"No—please! He's just a child!" His mother's voice cracked.
A sharp crack.
A gunshot.
A dull thump.
Alex's body went rigid. He didn't turn around. He didn't want to see. But he knew.
His mother was dead.
His father fought back—for just a moment. But fists and screams were nothing against a bullet to the head.
More thumps.
And then, silence.
He felt something sharp pierce his neck—a needle. A burning sensation spread through his veins, making his vision blur. His knees buckled.
Before his mind slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing he saw was—
Snow.
Falling.
So beautiful.
Captured by Hydra
When Alex woke up, he was in a cold, sterile room.
He could hear faint whispers beyond the glass walls, men in white coats taking notes.
His hands were shackled. His head throbbed. He wasn't alone.
Across the room, two figures sat against the wall.
A boy with silver hair, barely older than him. His arms were covered in bruises, his breathing heavy.
And beside him—a girl.
Wanda Maximoff.
Her red-rimmed eyes flickered toward him. For a second, just a second, their gazes locked.
Then she turned away, burying her face into her knees.
Alex swallowed, his chest tight. They were just kids. Just like him.
But here, in this place, they were nothing more than experiments.
A voice crackled through the intercom.
"Subject 17 is awake. Begin the experiments."
The doors slid open.
A figure stepped in.
Baron Strucker.
And just like that—
The nightmare had begun.