Summary: In the early days, the Avengers Initiative looked for remarkable people of extraordinary skill. Kennedy Fremont came onto SHIELDs radar after saving a base doomed by wildfire. She was unknown and yet her past was entangled with the legacy of SHIELD, as far back as the SSR. Who is she and what does she have to offer the Avengers? [Pre-Avengers]
"How did it all begin?"
"The world was burning, and I was afraid."
PROLOGUE
Dark crimson light bled away to a smoke-filled sky. The wind roared, blasting soot and dust into her eyes. The woman pushed herself up from the dirt, clothes singed, eyes watering, and blood dripping from a wound on her head. All around her, the world burned in a ghastly orange light. It was too bright — too hot — and the air was suffocating. The little amount of oxygen left being eaten up by the hungry flames.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay low. Cover your nose.
The snapping of dry, hot wood was barely audible above the ringing of her ears. The trees around her were no longer recognizable after the flames had passed. Their burnt trunks rose like skeletal hands searching for a merciful sky. They would find no such thing. Not in this heat. The same heat emanated from the fire shelter covering her body through her thick fire-retardant clothes. Where was she? Where was her team? The fire was no longer a concern for her. From her surroundings, she gathered she had been previously fighting it. Now, it was past her line of defense and past her help. However, she couldn't calm the panic swelling in her chest when she could not remember her team's location. It was not wise to be alone in a forest fire, even if the flames had passed.
Stay low. Stay to the ground. Breathe. That's where you'll find the most oxygen. Trust your training and stay calm.
Eyes watering, the woman found a break in the smoldering landscape on unsteady feet. She rambled between two towering, smoking pines, black and burnt. She continued trudging away from the blazing furnace at her back taking inventory of her person. The only equipment she had was the axe on her back and her thick soled boots. She fiddled with the straps holding the heavy axe in place and watched her boots kick up plumes of fine white ash. It swirled in the hot wind and mixed with the smoke in the air. It was muddled like the thoughts in her mind. She had no radio, no equipment, no water, nor drip torch. She didn't know what end of the fire she was on. Was it the frontlines? Did the blaze hop the lines? Where were their trucks or the road? Where was everybody?
She knew she was unprepared out here without all of her gear and even more so without a location. When had she lost it? Was this a smokejump or a hotshot mission? Her brain swirled like dancing embers on the wind as she tried to figure it all out. Suddenly, one clear thought shot through her brain like a blast of glacier water: she had to keep pushing and find him.
Wait.
Who was he? Who was she was trying to find? She instinctively knew that he wasn't on her team and he was someone dangerous. The thought of him sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her hands itched for a radio to get in contact with someone to find him.
Then the thought of an enraged man, engulfed in flames, shimmered in her mind like the heat waves all around her. His eyes burned like hot coals with a sadistic smile. She remembered seeing fire around him, on his clothes, and pulsing beneath his skin like the burning embers of a log. What was he?
She didn't know. She didn't have even a wisp of an answer. She just had to find him. He was dangerous.
Picking up speed, she jogged through a cloud of smoke and was momentarily blinded. Her eyes burned and watered from the vapor in the air. She couldn't even catch her breath with the taste of ash on her tongue and the soot in her lungs. She knew she would die out here if she doesn't escape soon. It was too dangerous, even for her.
She stopped and gathered her bearings in a clearing that was still smoking. It was eerily quiet with the absence of all life in the area. The hot ground hissed and crackled in the afternoon sun. Her ears had finally stopped ringing and could now pick up the nuance of the sound. She was observing the clearing when suddenly she heard a holler in the distance. Someone was looking for people in this desolate wasteland. She turned to the voices and headed off in that direction. She hoped to find someone—anyone—to help her get out of this mess.
There was another break in the trees up ahead and it was filled with the aftermath of a raging fire and nothing else. She swore she had heard the voices come from here, but she couldn't pinpoint them anymore. She stopped and spun around looking for any moving shapes past the sunbeams that filtered into the clearing. A moment later she could make out a figure in the smokescreen. It moved between the sunbeams and its form warped by the heat.
As the figure grew closer, the thought of the fire-filled man came back to the forefront of her mind. The woman braced for the worse as the figure emerged. Was this the man she was hunting? She pulled the ax from it's place on her back and readied it in her gloved hands.
As the figure emerged, she was taken aback. This figure wasn't a man, rather it was a girl. She stumbled into the clearing, panic and desperation etched into her form. She was dressed almost exactly like the woman. The girl wore the same yellow shirt, brown pants, and thick boots, but hers were burned to shreds and coated in ash. The woman noticed the angry burns coating the girl's face and her helmet that was partially melted on one side. She must have survived the flames without a fire shelter, but how?
When the shock faded, she hears the girl screaming names the woman doesn't recognize. Her voice is hoarse, broken, and bleeding at the vocal cords. She shouldn't be here, screaming like that in this smoky environment.
The woman sheathed the ax on a belt hook on her waist and took a few cautious steps towards the frightened girl. She raised her hand and approached her as if she was a scared wild animal. The two made eye contact and the girl opened her mouth to ask her something when male voices grabbed their attention. They sounded as if they were coming this way.
The girl took off running uphill toward the sound and the woman followed immediately afterward. A part of her was worried about the girl's mental state and the other part wanted to be rescued as well. Up ahead, she saw more figures in yellow shirts and brown pants running and shouting through the smoke. They are a group of men calling for help on a shorted-out radio. They appeared lost and disoriented and began to run headfirst into the ever-thickening flames. She charged after them hoping to stop them from running to their doom.
Soon, she lost everyone in the thick smoke. She stumbled in the gloom, her eyes used to the brief sunlight she had found. Suddenly, the wind shifted and a blast of ash and sparks come racing towards her. She hurried to cover her face to stop the ash from burning her. When the wave passed, white filled her vision and a newfound heat wafted up from the ground as if a hot sun was buried in the soil. She trudged forward trying to make out shapes in the smoke when her foot connected with something sharp and heavy in the ash. It shot out like a rock and skidded away through the fine powder.
It is an axe head, she realized. It's metal tarnished beneath a hot flame and its handle was cleanly melted away. It stopped its skid next to another object bone white and black in the ash. A skull. Two black socketed eyes stared back with its mouth open in an agonizing scream. Bone white teeth grinned back at her with a grimace. Dread filled her stomach, someone died here. Was it the —
BOOM!
The memory changes. Or was it a vision? The woman cannot tell and found she had no time to dwell on the question. A rainstorm of glass forced her to duck out as it tumbled around her. It shredded the environment and disintegrated to dust on the pavement. There was concrete beneath her feet — no longer hot soil and burned wood. Overturn vendor carts and smoking taxi cabs replaced boulders and stone. She looked up to make sense of where she was and the explosion's smoke rolled away. Figures emerge from the smoke into this place built of glass and monuments. There were skyscrapers instead of towering pines burning on the mountain slopes. How did she get here?
Buildings, overturned cars, and gas lines burned in the bright afternoon light. Police lights flashed a couple blocks up the road and paper fluttered in the wind. Her eyes followed the paper trails into the sky. What date is it? The dust and ash that coated the world around her reminded her of news reports, misdirected airplanes, and buildings falling down on their foundations. Had she found herself in a similar situation? Then the figures in the smoke became more clear and she realized she found herself in a far worse situation. On the buildings and in the streets, strange figures, monsters of sorts, terrorized the skies with hailstorm and raging fire. They screamed and roared, teeth gnashing in the afternoon light and body armor splattered with blood. Their weapons were powerful, like a concentrated lightning but with the kick of a full box of dynamite. They blasted the side of buildings, aimed at civilians, and shattered glass all around her.
She was no longer dressed in her yellow shirt and brown pants. Her clothes were dark gray with bands of yellow on her arms and legs. There was a hard hat on her head and her half-gloved hands were connected to the strangest looking bracers she had ever seen. What is she wearing? Another explosion jerked her back to her surroundings. The monsters in the sky above her had been blown up mid-air.
She ducked when one of the monsters' discarded weapons discharged too close for comfort as it hit the ground. The long weapon skidded in the dust and stopped next to a pile of ruptured asphalt and broken rebar. Shaking the dust off, she watched as the flying monsters turned around another building and began to line up for another bombing run. A different noise caught her attention and she turned to see a ground of people huddled together a short distance away. She could tell from their ash covered business attire that they had come from one of the half-destroyed buildings. They were hidden from the creatures' view but were clear to her. They were hiding directly in the monsters' path. They were desperate and one man with tousled hair was gesturing for them to get to the subway station just a few hundred yards away. They were going to run directly into the fire.
Desperate, she leapt across the broken sidewalk to grab the dropped weapon. In a calm, orderly fashion that surprised even her, she powered up the weapon and took aim at the creatures. Three shots later only smoke trails were left as they lost control and rammed into the side of an overturned bus. When they saw the downed creatures, the businessmen ran out and headed directly for the subway station. The woman watched with relief as they made it to safety. They would never know just how close their lives were to being terminated.
Breathing heavy with her hands shaking from adrenaline, she looked up through the smoke and spotted different figures weaving between the monsters. They were battling with the creatures and appeared to be… winning. There was a man with a red cape casting lightning. A metal man in red and gold glowing bright as he flew through the sky unfazed by the pack of monsters hot on his tail. Another figure leapt through the air in a blur of raging green. The hulking mass swatted the monsters out of the sky like flies casting them to the ground in a fiery explosion. On the ground, a shield whizzed past her head and out of her sight. She moved to follow it, watching as it took out a line of creatures before returning to a figure in red, white, and blue. Before she could get a good look at him, the man took off down another street where actual arrows rained from the top of a building. Bullets from a handgun echoed alongside the screeches of dying monsters followed by a flash of bright red hair.
They battled in the sky and on the ground against monsters she had no description for, even for all her years. She had no recollection of the group, but anyone could recognize them as heroes taking on the biggest threat she had ever seen. They were giants fighting titans in a landscaped city of glass. And above them, a blue beam pulsed in the sky, opening a wormhole into space from where the monsters — aliens — came pouring out.
Her body shivered in recognition at the sight of the portal. Her eyes traveled down the blue beam until they reached its source. The world melted away as she focused directly on the a-slanted building right up the avenue. She knew what the source was… they called it the Tesseract, but she understood its power was more…. infinite.
She doesn't know if she can do this…
Time slows and picture, sound, and feelings fade away. Like someone hit the lights and the stage grows quiet in the dimness. Time changes, the past ages and the world becomes a little less loud, bright, and noisy. It seems to close in on itself, centered around things a little homier and smaller instead of intergalactic battles happening over a concrete jungle.
From the heavens, a star falls and crashes on the outskirts of a small desolate German town. The boom rattles the black forested trees and birds take to the sky. It's the middle of the night and a man is seen standing in front of the light. His skin looks a little blue and he is dressed in the most bizarre fashion the people have ever seen. He stumbles into the village and the people are helpful. They care for him and nurse him back to health and in gratitude he builds small things for them.
Soon their little town is equipped with electricity and clean water. The man decides to stay and continues to build things and make repairs. He keeps to himself and only hears of the world from the little old ladies that bring him biscuits and tea. They tell him stories of their sweet grandchildren and aging husbands. But then their words turn sour. They tell him the news of their sons and grandsons fighting in a great war built around trenches and new, frightening technology. They say it is the war to end all wars. The news concerns him, but he sits back, wanting no part of it.
Time passes and the great war ends but is not forgotten nor forgiven. The people feel weak and beaten. They try to continue on with their meager lives, but a depression begins to weigh them down. In the distance, a new flag rises: one of red, white, and black, bringing hope to the decimated people. Soldiers march upon the man's town, their shadows stretching far across the little roofs and in between the streets. The man knows he cannot hide any longer.
He is cornered by the soldiers and his village is held under gun point. They will kill if he does not comply. He accepts the proposition from the man in black, begging for them to be left alone, yet the gunshots still sound. It is frightening to see the blood run through the cobblestones that night. It gushes past shoes and collects beneath a man adorned with the image of a skull wreathed in flames. He laughs with world domination crackling in his hollow eyes. The man from the stars cowers beneath the cruelty. He slowly loses his grip on his humanity and is blinded with rage. It boils and festers in the darkening night.
He falls deep into his rage, sadness, and hurt. He only wanted peace and yet traitors and warmongers continue to find him. His anger blinds him from the things he does. In the dark of his anger, the blue light of a glowing cube slows his fury. A pair of green eyes and blond hair plead with him and his facade cracks under the blow of kindness.
Something changes within him and all around him. He has to flee from a pack of warriors led by a man in red, white, and blue. He has no choice but to run and hide or risk losing his life. But he promises to himself he will find the green eyes again…
As suddenly as the old-time vision appeared, it fades away. The woman blinks and finds herself kneeling in soft mountain grass. Her heart thunders in her chest like raging fire. She feels like she is going to be sick and closes her eyes to the world. Taking a moment to recollect her composure, she pauses and listens. Up ahead she hears soft voices talking.
"You will always be something rare, Kennedy," a masculine voice floated on the cool night air. It was soft. Gentle and caring, it's fatherly. She comes closer and crouches next to a tree and quietly peers through the sparse pine needles. She sees a father holding a little girl in his arms. Their faces are turned toward the sky as they observe the Montana night sky for shooting stars. They are sitting in the bed of an old 1950's pickup truck. They look familiar to the woman, but she can't place her finger on why. Her mind wonders if they are looking for the satellite Sputnik.
"You were born with stardust and the vastness of space running through your soul. The greatness of two peoples runs through your blood," continues the father. He nuzzles the girl's head that is tucked in the crook of his neck. "You have your mother's kindness. Her desire to help regardless of her circumstances. You have our smarts, and my knowledge," he taps her nose and she giggles. "But you don't have either of our trepidation in this new world. You can help make it into whatever you want it to be, if you only decide when."
The girl giggles again, playing with her father's fingers and completely ignoring the profoundness of her dad's words. "But what if I'm happy with the way things are? I don't want to change anything. I'm only seven!"
The girl's father chuckles, giving her a squeeze. "I agree! Now may not be the time for change, but it will come. I just want you to be prepared."
The girl shot out of his arms and danced with one arm pointed to the sky. "Look! Look, Papa! I see it, I see it!"
The woman looked up to see what the girl was pointing out. It looked like a star had been knocked out of orbit and now slid across the glittering dome of the heavens, blinking slightly. There was Sputnik as it made its trendsetting traverse across the sky.
"Well, what do you know? They've finally done it, Kennedy," exclaimed her father. He scooted forward and wrapped his long arms around his daughter, tucking her neatly against his chest. "Sooner or later, there's going to be people up there in space."
"What? How do you know that, Papa?"
"Eh, your Papa just knows. You'll live long enough to experience the day." An all-knowing smile graced his clean-shaven face.
The woman pulled back from the scene, feeling like she was intruding on something too precious. She backed up further into the trees, hands clasped over her chest with a content smile on her face. Crimson red light danced on the edges of her vision and in a moment everything went dark.
The last thing she remembered was a voice saying, "Let us see what the miracle of Kennedy Fremont is."
Edited: May 3, 2019
