I opened my eyes and immediately knew something was wrong.
The light was too clean. Too cold.
I pushed myself upright from the table I had been leaning on and took in my surroundings. An office. Spacious, orderly, almost sterile. A wide desk sat in front of me, fitted with a sleek LCD monitor. Against one wall stood a cabinet with two broad drawers, all matte black and brushed silver. Even the furniture felt disciplined.
In the corner rested a secondary desk, and on it sat a laptop.
Alienware.
Not just any model either. This was military-grade, the kind you did not casually find in a normal workplace.
My gaze drifted to the far wall, and that was when my breath caught.
Embedded into the black surface was a monogram. An eagle with its wings spread wide, encircled by small stars. The design was subtle but unmistakable.
My stomach dropped.
S.H.I.E.L.D.
The realization struck like a physical blow. This was not a dream, and it was not a hallucination. I had been transferred. Not just to another place, but to an entirely different world.
The Marvel universe.
Before panic could fully set in, something strange tugged at the edge of my vision. I turned my head slightly, and there it was. A translucent display hovering in the corner of my sight, shaped like a miniature map.
I reached out instinctively, but my hand passed straight through it.
Another icon flickered at the bottom of my vision, a small profile window. I focused on it.
The world responded.
A transparent menu unfolded before my eyes.
Name: Ethan Evans
Level: 1
Exp: 0/100
Title: Rookie Agent, Clearance Level 1
Race: Human
Ability | Points | Bonus
STR | 9 | +0 Hit Points: 10/10
VIT | 7 | +0 Magic Points: 10/10
DEX | 3 | +0 Stamina: 10/10
AGI | 5 | +0 System Points: 0
INT | 7 | +0 Status Points: 0
MND | 3 | +0 Condition –
A system.
Of course there was a system.
After steadying my breathing, I shifted my attention to the mini-map. The moment I focused, it expanded smoothly, unfolding into a detailed holographic layout of the building. Not just flat directions either. It was fully three-dimensional.
My location blinked clearly.
[SHIELD Headquarters (NYC)]
219 West 47th Street, Midtown Manhattan
Sixth floor. West wing. Staff quarters.
Another things I noticed was I could even turn the map into 3D version. It looked exactly like the system of 'Death March' anime rather than a full blown gamer system.
I minimized the map and scanned the bottom of my vision again. Five icons rested there, each labeled neatly.
Map Reveal
Meteor Rain
System Shop
ID-Create
ID-Escape
I lingered on Meteor Rain longer than I should have, then reluctantly looked away. This was not the time to start asking dangerous questions.
Next came equipment.
Another panel opened, displaying what I was wearing. Tactical business casual. A SHIELD-issued tactical polo, clean and understated, with a concealed Kevlar vest hidden beneath. Comfortable, light, and designed for people who might suddenly need to run or take cover.
That awareness snapped me fully into my body.
I did a quick physical check and found the following items secured on me:
A SHIELD ID badge.
An encrypted tablet.
A secure smart-pen capable of recording audio and video, scanning physical documents, and uploading directly to the SHIELD cloud.
A digital inventory scanner disguised as a wristwatch, able to scan crates through lead shielding and verify contents against manifests.
An I.C.E.R. sidearm, non-lethal, designed to incapacitate rather than kill.
And finally, a panic button clipped discreetly to my belt, meant to alert the nearest STRIKE team to my location.
Professional. Efficient. Terrifying.
I picked up the ID badge and examined it.
Ethan Evans
Level 1 Agent (Logistics)
The SHIELD eagle gleamed on the back.
I clipped the badge onto my front pocket, gathered my equipment, and stepped out of the office.
The hallway beyond was quiet, humming softly with concealed machinery. I activated the tablet, and a new task immediately appeared. An incoming goods manifest requiring verification and testing.
So this was my job.
As I walked, fragments of memory surfaced naturally, slipping into place as if they had always been mine. Ethan Evans. Orphan. Raised in foster care. Nineteen years old. A recent graduate of the SHIELD Academy.
Second month on the job.
Accounting department.
Lazy. Infamously so.
According to these memories, Ethan had never completed a task properly since arriving here. Minimal effort, maximum avoidance.
I checked the system clock.
2005
I sighed in relief that I have enough time before the main events begin.
Suppressing the urge to stare at everything like a tourist, I followed the map's guidance to the warehouse. The manifest was straightforward. Crates, serial numbers, classified tech components.
Using knowledge from my previous life and the scanner on my wrist, I verified each shipment efficiently. Cross-checking data, scanning contents, logging discrepancies.
One hour later, the task was complete.
Perfectly.
If nothing else, Ethan Evans' reputation was about to change.
And somewhere deep inside, the system waited, silent and patient, like a loaded gun resting just out of sight.
I had barely stepped out of the warehouse when a familiar voice snapped through the corridor.
"Agent Evans! Please tell me you've actually done your job today."
I stopped and turned. Agent Miller stood a few meters away, arms crossed, posture sharp. Level 5 clearance sat on his badge like a quiet threat. His eyes flicked briefly to the tablet in my hand, then back to my face, clearly expecting an excuse.
"Yes, sir," I said evenly. "It's finished."
He raised an eyebrow. Just one, but it spoke volumes.
"Finished," he repeated. "As in… finished finished?"
I tapped the tablet and handed it over. "Inventory verified. All crates scanned. No discrepancies. I flagged two items for secondary testing due to irregular energy readings."
Miller took the tablet, his skepticism obvious. His eyes moved quickly as he scrolled through the report. One second passed. Then another. His expression shifted, confusion bleeding into something closer to disbelief.
"…You did all of this?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
He looked up at me, studying my face as if expecting the punchline to arrive late. It didn't.
"This is clean," he muttered. "Detailed. Properly formatted." He glanced back down, then exhaled slowly. "You finished this in how long?"
"About an hour."
That finally got a reaction. He straightened slightly and gave me a long, measuring look, like he was reassessing a faulty piece of equipment that had suddenly started working.
"Well," he said after a moment, handing the tablet back, "either you've been replaced by an alien, or you finally decided to wake up."
"I assure you, sir, no shape-shifting involved."
A corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
I hesitated, then spoke again. "Since today's assignment is complete, I was hoping to leave a little early. If that's acceptable."
Miller stared at me for a second longer, then shook his head softly.
"Unbelievable," he said. "You finish early, you ask permission properly, and you don't cause a single problem." He sighed. "Yeah. Go. But don't make me regret this."
"Yes, sir."
He pointed a finger at me as I turned to leave. "And Evans?"
I paused. "Sir?"
"Be here early tomorrow. If today wasn't a fluke, I want to see it happen twice."
I nodded. "Understood."
As I walked away, I could feel his eyes on my back. Not suspicious anymore.
Curious.
And that, I suspected, was far more dangerous.