Adrian opened his eyes slowly. His head felt heavy, as if he had been asleep for days. The ceiling above him was cracked, the paint peeling away. He sat up and looked around. The room was dim, lit only by a weak lamp on a desk.
When his gaze fell on the mirror, he froze.
The reflection wasn't his own.
The man in the mirror had sharp features, fair skin, and dark hair neatly combed back. His eyes were a piercing gray, giving him a cold expression even when relaxed. He looked young, no more than twenty-one or twenty-two, his build lean but not weak. There was something European in his appearance—Arian features, almost too clean-cut, like a soldier in training.
Adrian touched his own face. The reflection copied him exactly. His heart began to race.
"This… isn't me."
He leaned closer. He wasn't in his old body. He remembered clearly—his previous life ended in an accident at the laboratory. The explosion. The heat. The darkness. Yet now, he was here. Alive. In someone else's body.
On the desk lay a leather folder. At first, he hesitated to touch it. But curiosity got the better of him. He flipped it open.
Inside were neatly typed documents, written partly in German, partly in English.
Agent Volk. Maintain position in New York. Observe American military advancements. Special attention: Howard Stark. Report findings to Hydra. Obey orders without fail.
Adrian's breath caught. "Hydra…?"
He stared at the symbol stamped on the corner of the document: a skull with tentacle-like arms. It was a logo he knew too well, but only from fiction.
His mind scrambled. He didn't want to believe it right away. But the writing, the language, the style of the documents—this wasn't a joke. Slowly, the truth settled in.
He wasn't just in another body. That much was obvious from the reflection in the mirror. But this wasn't just about a new face or a forged identity. He was in another world entirely.
The Marvel Universe.
The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Was it really true? Which part of the timeline was this? He couldn't be sure. The only clue came from the documents on the desk—Howard Stark's name.
Adrian leaned back in the chair, trying to piece things together. If Hydra was already targeting Stark, then this wasn't just some random point in history. Stark would eventually work with Dr. Erskine on the Super Soldier Project. That meant the serum wasn't far off.
Hydra wanted him to spy on Stark, but Adrian saw something far more valuable. If this really was the MCU, then the key to everything—the first step toward unlocking the true potential of the human body—was about to appear. The Super Soldier Serum.
That realization alone changed everything.
Adrian didn't allow his thoughts to drift too far into the future. Dreams of research and limitless potential would have to wait—right now, the crisis of identity came first. On paper, he was an undercover agent living in New York City, hiding behind the identity of a French doctoral student who had fled war-torn Europe to finish his studies in the United States.
He sifted through the documents Hydra had prepared for him, scanning every page with careful eyes. The details were impeccable—credentials, university records, even letters of recommendation from fabricated professors. For a moment, he couldn't help but be impressed by the precision of their arrangements.
But Adrian knew better than to grow comfortable. This borrowed life wasn't meant to last. Eventually, he would have to shed it and forge a new identity—one disconnected from Hydra's influence, one that belonged entirely to him. Still, that could only happen after he secured the Super Soldier Serum formula. Until then, running away would be suicide. Only with that secret in his hands would escape—and true independence—be worth the risk.
---
Adrian left the cramped apartment Hydra had arranged for him, straightening his jacket before stepping out onto the busy New York streets. The air carried the smell of gasoline and fresh bread from a nearby bakery, the sounds of trams clattering over tracks mixing with the chatter of pedestrians. For a moment, he almost forgot he was living a lie.
The university loomed ahead, its stone buildings weathered but dignified, buzzing with students carrying stacks of books and hurried conversations in English, French, and even German. Slipping into character, Adrian carried himself with the polite reserve of a young European scholar.
At the administration office, he greeted the staff warmly, his accented English smooth enough to pass but just foreign enough to draw sympathetic smiles. He asked about the weather, the city, even the difficulty of finding good coffee in America compared to Paris. Small talk, harmless chatter—yet every phrase helped paint the image of a young man far from home, approachable, eager, and harmless.
After signing the last form, Adrian tucked the papers neatly into his folder and gave the secretary a polite nod. His smile was casual, like just another student adjusting to a new campus.
Adrian followed the directions he'd been given, making his way across the courtyard and into the science building. The hallways were wide and quiet, with the faint echo of footsteps and the smell of chalk hanging in the air. He checked the names etched on the office doors until he found the one he was looking for.
Professor William Carter – Department of Biology.
Adjusting his jacket, Adrian knocked twice before opening the door.
Inside, the office was cluttered but organized—shelves of journals, preserved specimens in glass jars, and a desk covered with papers. A middle-aged man with thinning hair and round spectacles looked up from his notes, eyes narrowing briefly in curiosity.
"Ah. You must be Adrian Laurent, yes?" the professor said, his voice carrying a trace of welcome.
Adrian offered a small, polite smile. "That's right, Professor. I've just settled in and thought it best to introduce myself."
"Good," Carter replied, gesturing to a chair. "Come in, sit. If you're to work under me, we should get to know one another."