Prologue
You’d been living in New York for five years now with no incident. Ever since you’d left England in the past, things had been going much smoother for you. Replacing the rainy fog of London for the sparkling city lights made it so much easier for you to forget everything that had happened. Here you managed to blend in, become one amongst the nameless collective that moved about their daily lives. Working as a hairdresser during the day, then as a fight trainer at night was doing you good. You didn’t participate in the fights – you’d promised yourself to stay out of trouble, and so far, you were keeping good on that promise. Training only, and it was training you were good at.
“And in this corner, we have our returning champion, Blitzkrieg Billy!” The announcer exclaimed excitedly, gesturing to your trainee. Billy had surpassed all expectations you’d had of him when you started training, and now he was very good at getting you your ten percent of winnings.
The barn the fights were usually held in was packed that night; everyone was stuffed in like sardines in a tin, all scrambling to get a better look at the fighters. You were well aware of the dubious legality of it all, but you weren’t concerned. No one here knew your real name, nor did they ever spare you more than a passing glance. Just how you liked it.
Someone bumped into you with a curse, but you turned away, heading for the exit. Billy would almost certainly win this match, he didn’t need you there.
The night was cool, the city’s proximity hiding all the stars from view, but you could picture them in your head anyways. Yells and cheers from the barn were muffled by the wood exterior and distance as you marched further away, pushing back the hood of your black hoodie. Tonight you were beautifully free, the past so far behind you, and this time you were certain it wouldn’t catch up. That was, of course, until a voice called out from the dark. A voice you hadn’t heard since London, and one you hadn’t ever wanted to hear again.
“Anubis.” You ignored the voice, turning to head back towards the barn.
“No one’s called me that for years,” you responded flatly, pace increasing.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls, y/n.” You halted, turning to scowl at the extremely recognizable face of Nick Fury. No one else knew how to push your buttons like this man. It was like he could sniff out an invisible zipper on your skin and get right under it.
“Maybe because I didn’t want to be a part of your superhero circus? Did you think of that? Or maybe because the last time we saw each other, it didn’t necessarily go over too well, now did it?” You did your best not to let your anger get the best of you, but you’d seen the product of Nick Fury’s little ‘Avenger Initiative’ in the news. Once upon a time, you’d been on the short list for his prototype, but now that it was real you wanted nothing to do with it. The initiative had been a fantasy, a dream really, one that was never meant to be realized. And Nick Fury had gone off and done it anyways.
It hadn’t even been three months since the attack on New York, during which you had completely blown off the SHIELD director’s blatant attempts to get in touch with you, and now he was here, doing his best to mend things with you so you could run along and become another instrument to his success (his very messy success, if you dared say so). Irregardless of what tune he was singing now, Fury hadn’t always been so accommodating to those with…special abilities in the past, and you really didn’t want to repeat history.
“London is water under the bridge now. The world needs you. The Avengers need you.”
“So you’re here to recruit me. No thank you.” You huffed, wondering why you were even still listening to him. This man had almost ruined your life, you shouldn’t have even stopped walking in the first place. “I’m not going to play ‘secret weapon’ for you. The Avengers, from what I’ve seen, do perfectly well on their own. They don’t need me and they don’t want me. Goodnight Fury.”
You turned away, prepared to march off, but Nick Fury grabbed your shoulder from behind, having closed the distance between the two of you in a matter of seconds. It was the wrong move for him to make. Smacking his hand away, fog rolled out from under your feet in waves, materializing into a ghostly figure in front of you, armed with an AK-47 that could certainly – despite how translucent it looked – do real damage.
The change in his demeanour was instantaneous. Fury fell to the ground, his visible eye wide as he scrambled away from the undead being. It hadn’t been too long ago that he’d looked at you the same way, and the words ‘freak of nature’ had rolled off his tongue instinctively. You were well aware of the dark nature of your powers and how to use that darkness to get what you wanted. And right now, you wanted Fury to leave you the hell alone.
“Trust me,” you said, raising your chin as the ghost disappeared. “Best to forget you saw me here. Forget the name Anubis. Humanity will always fear death. You and the Avengers are no different. We cannot be on the same side when you fear me so.”
“I’m not afraid of you, it’s your freaky ghosts I don’t like.”
“Well then, I guess I’m not the girl for this job.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Because they are an inseparable part of me. Now, this time I am truly taking my leave.”
“I don’t think so.” Fury said from his place on the ground. “See, this wasn’t an option. Roll out.”
You weren’t terribly surprised to see SHIELD agents emerge from the surrounding infrastructure, all of them toting massive guns, a bigger display of ammo than you really thought the situation warranted.
“You know these bullets don’t do anything.” You scoffed at Fury as he got up, backing away so he was out of the firing line. “I really wish you’d left me alone.” The fog surrounded you once more, this time bringing a slew of undead warriors crawling up through the ground, surrounding you in a circle, appearances flowing from skeletons to unsaturated replications of what they’d looked like in real life. It was a mix of gladiators, soldiers, calvary, generally just whoever was kicking about at the moment.
It was with great glee that you watched the agents pale. You knew you looked menacing with your eyes glowing a bright ochre, surrounded by the souls of those long gone, sinister fog floating out in thick waves. The power you possessed was a terrifying sight to behold, and gone were the days you’d reign yourself in. Sometimes, as much as you feared it a bit yourself, you really did relish the fear you could introduce to any situation. It made you feel as powerful as you looked, to have them under your thumb.
“Those bullets might do nothing,” Fury said, cocking his own gun. “But this tranquilizer has come straight from Asgard.”
“I’m sorry?” You said, pausing for a moment, squinting at him. “Tranquilizer? Asgard?”
It was at that moment that a lightning bolt streaked down from the sky, landing right in front of you. Bullets may have been no big deal, but you were not equipped to unexpectedly handle three hundred million volts of energy arcing through your body. Fleetingly, as you watched your warriors be blasted backwards and fade as your hold on them was relinquished, you really hoped you weren’t about to die. Being struck with lightning seemed like a stupid way to go. Yet the ground was so soft and welcoming as you landed on it, and it was starting to make sense to just lay there and never get up.
Just as you were prepared to release whatever claim you had to consciousness, a blond figure came into your shaky field of view, a red cape hanging from his shoulders.
“She’s a strong one, this girl. You said she was the Egyptian god Anubis?” You thought you heard his booming voice ask.
“Not exactly,” came Nick Fury’s dry response, but at this point, everything sounded like it was underwater and you allowed yourself to drift away with the current.