From the personal journal of Silas Cartwright

June 20, 1775

"…King George is ordering for more regiments to the American colonies every day. Last month was the final definitive mark of a turning point in our dealings with their rebellion. Our men met with the Americans at the towns of Lexington and Concord, on our first field of battle. We, the loyal soldiers of King George, now have the excuse for which we have been waiting so earnestly, to go and tame their ungodly rebellion. In light of my recent promotions, I expect to receive my orders to leave within a fortnight. It is no surprise that I am to be one of the first British soldiers sent in to combat here. General Burgoyne has been made aware of my particular effectiveness in combat, and has been paving my way to the field of battle with every chance he has gotten. My only prayer is that I can keep myself under control once I am there, and kill only as I have to. I will work to quell this rebellion for king and country, but the Lord detests overzealous bloodshed…"

Silas Cartwright is a mystery of a man. Parts of his history and heritage were unknown even to himself for most of his life. He never knew his father. His mother died of illness when he was six years old, leaving him an orphan in the heart of London in the mid-eighteenth century. He was adopted by a Protestant minister and his wife who had known his mother. As a result of his upbringing, he was conditioned to love two things above all else: his Lord, and his country. His Protestant background and relationship are the only things that kept him sane when his superhuman powers began to emerge during puberty. He discovered that, upon will, he could transform himself into a monstrous-looking being that resembled a sinister demon. In this form, he found that he was stronger and faster than any normal man, he could heal from injuries at an amazing rate, and he could mentally 'see' a few seconds into his own future.

Any child with less Biblical education than Silas would have immediately thought himself a monster, cursed by God. Silas, however, was confident enough in his relationship with God that he knew this was no curse of evil. He did not understand this new gift or the devilish appearance that came with it, but simply assumed that they were given to him directly from God for a purpose. He did everything within his power to keep his gifts a secret though. He knew that others would not understand, and would brand him as devilspawn if they knew about him. His desire to utilize his God-given powers, coupled with his love and patriotism for England, drove him to the military. He signed on at an early an age as possible, and quickly gained notice from his superiors and moved up the ranks as a result of his exceptional fighting prowess. Of course, he was never much more than ordinary when in his human form. He only has powers when he changes to his demonic form. As a result, he became noticed among his superiors as having exceptional combative talents only when working alone. For this reason, he eventually got promoted to be a part of one of England's few special operations forces. He was not quite a soldier, but rather an assassin for the British army.

Silas spent years as a special operations combatant in the service of King George. As it turns out, he was not the only man in the British army to have unusual abilities. Only a few of the highest ranking officers in the army were aware of exactly why Silas and the others were such effective warriors. Despite their superstitions of witchcraft and demonic activity, their fears were pushed aside by their singular-mindedness for winning the war and restoring the British empire to glory. Due to their powers, Silas and the other British special ops could have turned the entire war in the favor of England, had it not been for the Americans' own superpowered patriots. Unbeknownst all but a few, the war of the American revolution was both a war between armies and a war between the superhumanly powered 'demonspawn' from England and the American colonies. There were legends and tales on both sides of the war concerning local super-people. 'Captain Britain', 'Selene', 'Bloodstone', 'Romulus', 'Nightcrawler', etc. Nobody, with the exception of the highest-ranking officials, knew they were anything more than folk heroes and tall tales.

By 1783, the war of the American revolution was over... officially, that is. America won their independence and the British troops evacuated the land, but a lot of bad blood and unresolved scores still laid between the special operatives of both sides. Silas, who had been dubbed in legends as the Nightcrawler, had made a lot of enemies among the American heroes. He was responsible for a particularly great deal of difficulty the Americans had in winning the war. The Salem Sentry, one of the American special operatives and a possessor of a variety of seemingly-magical powers, held a very personal grudge against Silas and decided that losing the war was not a harsh enough fate for him. The Nightcrawler could not simply be allowed to leave America without punishment. Through means unknown, the Salem Sentry managed to discover the Nightcrawler's identity and track him down. Salem Sentry found Silas in a bar in New York City the night before Silas was scheduled to board his ship back to England.

"He looked into my mind," Silas is recorded as saying. "Though I am the one who can assume the appearance of a devil, the Sentry's abilities seem closer to true witchcraft than anything I have yet seen. Under his gaze, I could not run. I could not change form so as to make use of my own abilities. He caught me with my guard down and so held me helpless. He told me he had been studying his powers and practicing with them in a very specific way just for this occasion. He said he had peered into the future and seen great growth and prosperity for America as an independent nation, and that I would not only come to accept it, but that I would be a part of it. He told me that he would make me find joy in Britain's failure to quell the revolution. That was the last thing he said to me before the entire world appeared to twist wrong-side-out... and I forgot everything."

From the personal journal of John Doe

November 29, 2003

They say its amnesia. I can't remember anything of myself before the homeless shelter found me in the gutter two weeks ago. They found no head trauma and no traces of drugs in my system. My brain just seems to have lost almost all of my memories on a whim. I remember some things, like how to write, what city I am in, and how to ride a horse. Nearly everything else is a mystery to me. I don't recognize cell phones, or any presidents from my lifetime, or what soccer is. I have no idea who I was or how I lived. My name was… Samuel? Stephen? I'm not sure. The S, at least, sounds right. I suppose I'll be Sam. Although I don't remember my name, I know a few things about myself. I was a fighter. Another homeless man tried to rob me for my jacket and shoes last week. Instinct kicked in and I disarmed him and knocked him unconscious before I was even aware of myself. I still know God also. I have forgotten most of the Bible, if I ever knew it, but nothing could make me forget my salvation under the grace of Christ. I loved my country. Despite not remembering a thing about it, I recall a strong sense of pride and association to my homeland. I'm reading as much American history as I can when the local libraries allow me in. The homeless shelter says they can try to help me get back on my feet in society, and perhaps find a doctor who can help me remember my life. If and when that happens, I want to enlist as a soldier. I can think of no better way in which to spend this new life in which I've found myself.

I was in Times Square yesterday when I got the privilege of watching some of New York's heroes in action. I, of course, recognized none of them, but could only stand transfixed and watch the awesome battle unfold above and around me. The X-Men and the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. That's who I've been told the battling demigods were. The Brotherhood was there to assassinate a New York senator who was passing through the area at the time. The X-Men were there to protect him. One of the X-Men caught my attention more than the others for some reason that I do not yet understand. His deep blue countenance, glowing yellow eyes, and forked tail give him a demonic appearance. He displayed amazing acrobatic agility and could disappear in a burst of smoke and reappear somewhere else in an instant. His name, apparently, is Nightcrawler. That name strikes a strange cord in my mind, so I researched it in the library. Apparently, he adopted the name from an old European folk hero. I have no words or explanation for the connection I feel with him. Perhaps, in my old life, he rescued me from danger once? Maybe he was a friend of mine. Whatever the reason, something about him has caused him to become imprinted on my mind in a way that even my amnesia could not entirely erase.

Though his amnesia did not fade, Silas was able to get a new legal identity as Samuel York. With the aid of the homeless shelter, he managed to get a job and work his way off the streets within a year. Once he was on his feet, he followed his resolution and enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. As he had already begun to discover, the combat instincts and training he had from his former life had not completely left him. These skills aided him greatly as he entered the Marines, giving him a good bit of notice and putting him a solid step above other new recruits. After training, he went on to do a tour of active duty in Iraq, during which time he received the Bronze Star for his actions.

Unfortunately for him, he was unaware that another massive turn in his life was still yet to come. The punishment exacted upon him by the Salem Sentry was not yet complete. His tour in Iraq was over. He was now working on a stateside Marine base training new recruits in hand-to-hand combat. It had been exactly ten years since he had woken up in an alley outside a bar in New York City, completely devoid of all memory. He retired early to his bunk that night after experiencing sudden, intense migraines throughout the day. He fell asleep before he had even fully laid down. He slept deeply, but not restfully. His entire night was a continuous mental explosion as his memory reexpanded. After exactly ten years of living his new American life, just as the Salem Sentry had planned, his memory was reopening to his former life.

He did not speak to anyone, or do anything at all the following day. He sat still and silent on the edge of his bed, his mind trying to understand what had happened to him. He was admitted to the psychiatric ward for what the doctors assumed was a form of PTSD, though they could not get a single word or reaction out of him. After two weeks of psychiatric study and consideration for discharge, Samuel finally began to speak again. The psychiatrists thought he had developed multiple personality disorder when he requested, with a strong British accent, that they refer to him as Silas and allow him to get in contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. That is, they thought that until he suddenly transformed into a blue-skinned demonic-looking creature, resembling the late X-Man Nightcrawler. They quickly saw fit to grant his request and contact S.H.I.E.L.D, as the situation had suddenly escalated far out of their league.

From the personal journal of Silas Cartwright/Samuel York

December 15, 2013

I have difficulty finding what to write here, as I have difficulty determining who I am as I write it. I remember my entire life now. Though I do not understand his powers, I understand what the Salem Sentry did to me. I am now two different men, from two different nations, from two different times. I am Silas Cartwright, loyal soldier to King George and champion against the American rebellion. I am also Samuel York, brought to life in the core of America and professional defender of her borders.

If there is one thing to which I can hang in order to understand who I am, it is this: I am a soldier. In both lives, that's all I've ever been. I am not one to hang on to the past. A soldier is one who chooses not to be define himself by looking back and seeing where he's been, but by looking ahead to where he should go.
I have been a soldier to the land in which I was born, and I have been a soldier in the land I once fought against. However, in both of those lives, I have chosen to be unquestioningly loyal to the leaders of the land, doing as I knew I was commanded by God. I suppose that, in a way, I can be thankful to the Salem Sentry for what he did to me. This experience has granted me with an… expansion… of my worldview. I know now that I am, by nature, a follower to the leaders of my land. However, I no longer feel that I can limit my land to one single nation. I can no longer be a soldier for king and country. Nor can I stand under the gaze of Lady Liberty.

I am a soldier for the world. I hereby swear myself to being a loyal defender of all people in need of defense, regardless of nation. I now dedicate my loyalty and service only to my God and to those who seek to maintain security and safety throughout the world.

One of my only true regrets is that I did not regain my memories in time to know the X-Man named Nightcrawler. His appearance is so remarkably similar to mine that I can only conclude that we are closely related in some way. And, ironically enough, he got his superhero name from the name by which I was known during the Revolutionary War. Much to both of our misfortune though, he was killed in battle about two years ago. Those who were familiar with him say he died a hero's death. Now I may never know how we were related, or what connected me to him.

Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division

Recommendation of Service

Legal name:
Silas Cartwright

Codename:
Redcoat

Known aliases:
Samuel York
The Nightcrawler

Age:
Biological age – 34
Temporal age – 256

Height:
5'10 (depowered)
6'2 (powered)

Weight:
160 lbs (depowered)
185 lbs (powered)

Superhuman powers (if any):
Able to morph at will into a demonic-looking form, in which he has deep blue skin, pointed ears, glowing yellow eyes, tridactile hands and feet, and a forked prehensile tail. When in this form, he possesses superhuman strength (able to lift roughly 5 tons), superhuman speed (top sprinting speed 70 mph), a superhuman healing factor (can repair minor cuts and abrasions in a matter of minutes, and larger injuries in hours), and short-range precognition (can predict 10 seconds out with about 90% accuracy).

Skills:
Training as a soldier in both the British military and the United States Marines. Remarkable hand-to-hand combat skills, and is known for nearly flawless accuracy with a rifle while using powers.

Known family:
Felicia Cartwright (mother)
Azazel (father)
Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler (half-brother)
Nils Styger aka. Abyss (half-brother)
Marcus Skarr aka. Kiwi Black (half-brother)

Biography:
Silas is the son of Felicia Cartwright and the time-traveling interdimensional mutant known as Azazel, from whom he inherited his mutant powers. Abandoned by his father (as Azazel is known for doing to his children), orphaned by the death of his mother, and raised in pre-Revolutionary War era London. He fought for Britain in the Revolutionary War, using his powers in secret to earn himself status as a folk hero. At the end of the war, an American superpowered hero known only as the Salem Sentry somehow transported him forward in time to the modern day and gave him complete amnesia lasting exactly ten years, during which time he joined the United States Marines under a new identity. Upon the recent return of his memories, he has experienced a severe identity crisis. He has since come to work through this crisis, and now considers himself a soldier in the service of the world in general rather than any one particular nation.

Silas Cartwright's superhuman abilities, military training, experience in combat against superhuman individuals, and desire to be a soldier for the world as a whole makes him a prime candidate for acceptance as an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

~Commander Stephen Rogers