New York City.
As the sun dipped below the skyline, three black vans emblazoned with the "SSS" logo roared from Manhattan onto the Brooklyn Bridge, a sleek black Audi A8 trailing closely behind them, all heading toward Brooklyn.
SSS. Sentinel Secret Service.
A new federal agency, established in the wake of the "Mutant Freedom Act" of 1973, tasked with handling all mutant-related cases and crimes committed by mutants. Simply put, the Sentinel Secret Service existed to serve mutants exclusively, operating under a federal charter without restrictions.
Inside the black Audi, Locke sat in the back seat, legs crossed, watching the city blur past the window. His gaze drifted to the reflection in the glass. Blond hair cut short, green eyes sharp and calculating, a strong, handsome face set against a perfectly tailored black suit. He looked every bit the part of a confident, capable man.
And yet… why reincarnate as a foreigner in this world of American comics? Was it meant to help him fit in? Locke hadn't understood at first, but over time, he had accepted that this was the body he would inhabit in this life. The timing, however, was less than ideal.
It was August 30, 2011. Locke was twenty-five years old. Born in 1986, he had missed the eras he would have loved to witness firsthand: Captain America and his Howling Commandos in World War II, the first generation of X-Men, the golden age of American comics. By the time he arrived, those figures had faded from public view.
Being born in 1986 meant he would never attend Midtown High alongside Spider-Man, never spar with the second-generation Green Goblin, never share a moment with his first love Gwen within the same timeline. The world had moved on. Trying to step into that history now would be a federal crime.
So far, Locke's twenty-five years had been far from disastrous, but uneventful nonetheless. If one sought a highlight, it would be his admission to Harvard, achieved through sheer effort: ninety-eight percent determination, two percent family advantage. His parents were Harvard graduates themselves, so the achievement was expected—but still, Locke had made it on his own merit.
Two years after graduating, instead of heading to Washington to join his parents' network, he sought out an old contact who helped him enter the Sentinel Secret Service in New York City. Locke had no grudge against mutants, nor a hatred that drove most agents who sought them out. His reason for joining the agency was practical: the Sentinel Service was simply the easiest route to interacting with extraordinary people.
Even in a world brimming with advanced technology, hidden mutants, and divine beings, the majority of people never left a mark. Ninety-nine percent of the population lived ordinary, often harsh lives. The rich leaned on technology, the poor relied on mutations, and the gods depended on blood. For ordinary people, surviving to old age was a triumph.
Initially, Locke had settled for a quiet life: finish school, graduate, marry, save money, and eventually return to the East Country—his hometown in a previous life, the only place that could still feel untouched. The notion of being a protagonist in this universe had never crossed his mind. He had no system, no mutation, no inherited wealth. Ordinary life would be enough. Save when necessary, live comfortably, and avoid meddling in events far beyond his reach.
Everything changed just before graduation. While recovering from a hangover at the senior dance, a sharp, insistent headache hit him, and a new presence filled his mind. A system—his standard time traveler's plug-in—had activated. The sound was natural, almost soothing, yet electrifying with promise.
Locke spent the morning exploring its functions, calculating its potential, and immediately discarded his plans of retiring quietly to the East Country. There was no point lying low when an opportunity like this had arrived. No time traveler would waste a chance like this, and Locke was no exception.
The past could be accepted, but the present offered something more exciting: a future full of unknowns, infinite possibilities. Even if he had been a salted fish, lounging in the sun endlessly, Locke would still find a way to flip over and bask on his back. Two years ago, with the arrival of this system, his chance to turn the tide had finally come.
The cityscape outside continued to blur as Locke's thoughts raced. Then, in an instant, the system interface appeared before his eyes—a crude, simple design, visible only to him.
The system's name flashed across his vision—
"Ultimate Evolution Module."