Chapter Two: A Brave New World
"Psionics unveils the invisible threads of the mind, weaving consciousness and energy to shape the extraordinary potential within."
Templar Grand Master Geist's speech to a group of new Templar recruits
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Annette Durand, ?
Annette opens her eyes.
"What the fuck?" She mutters as she gets up from the concrete floor she was lying on.
Instead of oblivion, Annette found herself engulfed in an unfamiliar sight - a cacophony of bustling streets, towering structures, and the distant hum of human activity. Confusion gripped Annette as she took in the stark contrast between the Temple Ship's sterile metallic confines and the vibrant chaos of New York City.
Annette stood amidst the pulsating rhythm of New York City, a maze of lights and life that seemed to mock the horrors etched into her mind. The ethereal purple glow that enveloped her as she offered herself up to destroy the Temple Ship was supposed to be her ticket out, a final act of defiance against those alien bastards.
Yet here she was. Alive and well.
Questions swirled in Annette's mind. Had her sacrifice been in vain? Had the mission failed, or was this an unforeseen consequence of disrupting the alien technology? The disorientation was profound, but as the moments passed, a realization began to dawn upon her - somehow, against all odds, she had survived.
Annette walks towards the Red Stairs of Time's Square. Every step she took on the unfamiliar pavement echoed with the memories of battles fought, the lives lost, and the sacrifices made. The weight of the responsibility that had rested upon her shoulders during the final moments on the Temple Ship hadn't dissipated. Instead, it lingered, intertwining with the frustration of witnessing a world that had carried on in her absence.
The sense of isolation was palpable. She was a stranger in a familiar yet foreign land, detached from the camaraderie of her fellow soldiers, severed from the organization that had become her purpose. The specter of the alien threat still loomed, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that her duty remained unfulfilled.
People back away from her, seeing the terrifying power armor on her, covered in X-Ray blood. She sits herself next to a family, who scooch away from her.
The screams echo within her, the faces of her dead family and fallen comrades flickering like haunting apparitions. Their sacrifices, their blood spilled by abominations - was it all in vain? Did she fail them by surviving, by being transported to this city that seems blissfully ignorant of the terror that almost consumed humanity?
A police officer watching her from afar looks nervous as he clenches his gun, speaking into his radio.
Annette frowns. The ignorance of these people stings like salt in a wound. They move about, carefree, oblivious to the nightmares that plagued her. It's a stark contrast to the chaos that engulfs her mind - a maelstrom of violence, despair, and an unquenchable thirst for vengeance.
The need to exterminate those alien freaks burns within Annette like an unrelenting fire. The desire to watch them suffer, to end their existence, claws at her sanity. They took everything from her, ripped her life apart, and now they're absent, leaving her stranded in a world that has seemingly moved on.
Perhaps this is her punishment - a world untouched by the scars of war while she is condemned to relive the brutality within my shattered mind. She hears a whisper: she doesn't belong here. She doesn't belong anywhere.
She finds herself agreeing with that whisper, with her self-hate.
Annette thought she died, plunged into the abyss, and escaped her relentless torment. She thought she found peace amidst the cacophony that had become her existence.
Yet, she's alive. She finds herself asking why.
Why is Annette still here? Did XCOM teleport her, only to fail?
Where even is she? New York looks like it is still intact, even though it was the site of a brutal false-flag operation by EXALT where they dressed like XCOM soldiers. Those Sectoid-fuckers destroyed skyscrapers with devastating plasma bombs - the fact that nobody looks like they have suffered confuses her.
Was she thrown forward in time? Or backward? The technology the civies are using looks less advanced.
Time to get answers.
Annette activates her brain implant, designed to establish a direct link between her brain and her armor's control systems and, most importantly, funnel information into her mind.
Annette orders her suit's AI (not the sentient or sapient type, just one designed by Dr. Shen to help defend her suit's systems, assist her, and process data) to connect to XCOM's communications network, and, if that fails, search the Internet as to the time she is in.
Her suit sends out a Hyperwave signal. No response.
Annette's suit then searches the Internet and provides her with an answer.
2008. Not 2012. Fucking 2008.
So, she was thrown back in time. No surprise. Psionics are bullshit.
But... she feels as though something else is off.
Annette orders her suit to look for any mention of XCOM or the Phoenix Project.
Her suit comes back with nothing.
Annette feels uneasy. Was she fucking isekaied?
(Annette didn't read manga, but one of her squad mates introduced it to her one day. She thought that it was a poorly thought-out harem genre with shitty protagonists.)
Annette orders her suit to give her a run-down on the history shown on the Internet.
Her suit comes back with... who the fuck is Captain America?
Her suit's sensors pick up a group of armed individuals walking towards her. Twelve, to be precise.
Annette perks up to meet the eyes of some guy in a black suit jacket and pants, a white dress shirt, a black tie, and black dress shoes. She takes note of the black cars behind him, which surround her, while other black-suited men are keeping away any civilians trying to get a good look at her.
"Who the hell are you?" Annette growls, her voice a mix of bitterness and anguish, her gaze intense and haunted.
The agents exchange glances, assessing her cautiously. One is brave enough to step forward, his expression a blend of concern and professionalism. "That's classified. Are you alright? You seem... distressed."
Annette grunts. "I suppose you could say that," her tone a harsh whisper, the words barely escaping her lips.
Are they EXALT? No, they don't have the typical black and red combat outfits with red accents or stripes.
Still doesn't hurt to check.
Annette subtly probes the agents' minds in such a way that they won't notice her. A trick she picked up from a senior Psi-Op called Geist. The guy was kind of a weirdo, to be honest.
Anyways, these guys and girls are agents of a top-secret organization known as SHIELD, or the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, an American extra-governmental counter-terrorism and intelligence agency tasked with maintaining both national and global security. Annette snorts. Oh, look, another top-secret organization with an acronym for a name. Hilarious.
They think she has superpowers, and want to determine if she poses a threat to public safety, national security, or the existence of humanity, and recruit her if possible.
What causes her to subtly clench the plasma pistol on her side is that some of the agents are working for another organization: HYDRA.
Funnily enough, the HYDRA agents don't know what the acronym stands for.
Going back to the topic at hand, HYDRA is a bunch of Nazi fucks who infiltrated SHIELD to overthrow world governments and establish a fascist, totalitarian global state.
"We ask that you come with us," the lead agent, a guy named Phil Coulson, asks with a polite tone as he cautiously extends a hand.
Annette pauses to think for a little bit. From what she gathered from the agents' minds, SHIELD and their director, Nick Fury (who has a fucking eyepatch), don't know they have been infiltrated by HYDRA, and are inherently opposed to the organization, having faced it in the past.
Not joining SHIELD would make her life much, much harder: she would constantly be on the run from a global organization that could easily find her and overwhelm her with brainwashed enhanced individuals. Joining SHIELD means there is a high chance she may be brainwashed by something called the Faustus Method.
Ultimately, joining SHIELD is the best option. She doubts that hypnosis and mental reprogramming will break through her telepathy, and it's easier to take down an organization from within.
She takes Phil Coulson's hand.
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Author's Notes: As you can tell, Annette Durand isn't exactly in a mentally healthy state. She lost her entire family, was kidnapped and experimented upon by EXALT, psychically violated by the Ethereals to launch an attack on XCOM's headquarters, and, after being freed, was thrown into a brutal meatgrinder. Yeah, she's suicidal and packed with Doom Slayer levels of ultraviolent hate.