PREVIEW

... a pompous Mr. Fiana. Everyone else was asked to take their seats off once. Because it makes it easier.


It's just me and Sakura, Mr. Fiana and Yoshino in this room.


"It may be a little hard to believe..."


"Oh no, space-time magic... that would be theoretically possible more than there is time and space manipulative magic. Not to mention common sense, I don't think it's possible for a non-standard sire."


... That's like being distracted.


"So what's ...

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1946

Peggy Carter walked to the Brooklyn Bridge and poured Captain America’s blood sample under the bridge with her own hands. “Goodbye, dear.” A woman’s voice suddenly sounded beside her, as if it had come out of nowhere. “He will come back.” At this time, Carter’s face was full of tears, and he looked at the woman in black with a black hat in his pocket very puzzled, “Ha, I’m sorry to scare you suddenly. Seeing what you said Yes, I just want to persuade you.” After finishing speaking, he looked towards the bridge and looked at the sea view in the distance. Carter, who was very vigilant, felt relieved after hearing such an explanation, wiped away his tears, and wanted to leave. “I have a friend ……” The mysterious woman suddenly said another word, interrupting Carter, which made her feel uneasy.

“I have a friend who wants me to tell you that I look forward to meeting you.” As she said that, Peggy’s uneasiness increased by three points, and she quietly touched the hidden gun.

“In the future, live well…”

“Who are you!”

The mysterious woman ignored Peggy Carter and immediately turned around. Peggy was anxious and immediately drew out her gun.

The woman took out her hand from her pocket, and there were six gemstones of different colors inlaid in her hand, clenched into a fist. The mysterious woman disappeared in front of Peggy’s eyes, but the last words “for the captain” still linger in Peggy’s ears.

Year 2008.

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“The world needs more heroes”

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Rakna was not normal. No, unmistakably not.

Whether it was his appearance, his personality, his abilities, his identity, nothing about him had ever been banal. Was it his choice?

No. He was merely but a tormented soul doing its utmost to live the life it had learned to never enjoy.

Would being picked by a glorified universal abductor calling itself a system bring something out of him?

Would he finally learn to breathe in the pool of blood that suffocated him? The Harvester does not sow, he only collects.

All he has ever known to feel was loss and the only thing he can do is take.

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