Death was silent. There was no warning, no farewell. Only absolute darkness… followed by fire.
Matthew Scheunen opened his eyes in the middle of hell.
Collapsed buildings, burning vehicles, charred bodies. The air was heavy, sharp, thick with smoke, shrapnel, and unfamiliar magic. The sky was covered with portals. Creatures not of this world descended like a plague from above. Everything he knew… was gone.
"Where…?" he whispered, his throat dry, his voice unfamiliar.
It was someone else's body. Younger, more agile, free of the scars from his previous life. His military uniform was gone. In its place, only torn civilian clothes and dried bloodstains remained.
[System Integration Activated.]
[Character Template Detected: Choi Jong-In — 1% Integration.]
[Welcome, Matthew Scheunen.]
The voice in his mind was cold, artificial… and real. As real as the screams he heard beyond the collapsed wall in front of him. Explosions. Gunfire. Aliens.
Absolute chaos.
And then he understood.
He had transmigrated. His body, his story, his life… everything had been reset.
Matthew emerged from the rubble like a specter. The city was burning. A school bus lay crushed in a corner, children trapped beneath it, blood pooling on the asphalt. Chitauri were everywhere, tearing through every defenseless soul.
His gaze sharpened.
Without thinking, his body reacted. He raised his hand. Energy gathered in his palm as if it had always been there.
A column of fire erupted with a roar, incinerating four enemies in a single motion. The children screamed—not out of fear of the aliens, but of the man wreathed in flames before them.
"What am I?" Matthew murmured, staring at his own glowing hands.
[Basic Fire Magic Unlocked.]
[Skill: Blazing Explosion — Level 1.]
But there was no time for answers. Only for action.
He cleared the area, reducing everything in his path to ashes. He didn't do it for the innocent. He did it because, in that moment, the fire obeyed his will. The power surged with contained rage. And his body, though new, seemed to remember everything.
One by one, the invaders fell. Not out of duty or for glory.
But because Matthew wasn't going to die again without a fight.
He went unnoticed amid the destruction.
While Iron Man battled in the sky, while Hulk tore down ships, while the Avengers became legends… Matthew operated in the shadows. In the side streets. In the Chitauri-infested alleys where there were no cameras, no heroes, no hope.
He burned. He pulverized. He disintegrated.
But he didn't seek recognition. He didn't call out to anyone. And when SHIELD's helicopters flew over the city, he hid among the ruins, like a demon fleeing the light.
When he finally stopped, his body trembling with barely contained magical energy, he was completely alone. No one knew his name. No one had seen his face.
And that's how he wanted it.
Hours later, while the Avengers gathered at Stark Tower to eat shawarma and civilians emerged from the rubble…
A blurry video began circulating on hidden internet forums.
Captured from a broken phone, filmed through the window of a ruined apartment, it showed a figure amid flames, surrounded by alien corpses, arms outstretched as fire surged like a living beast. No uniform. No symbol. Just fire and death.
"Who is that?" some asked.
"A mutant," others said.
"A ghost," the darker voices theorized.
But SHIELD took it seriously. They filed it under a codename:
"Red Phoenix — Threat Level Unknown."