England, 2116
It was hard to describe the sound of a miniature black hole. Even harder for a teenage girl whose knowledge of time stopped at the ability to read a clock. But if she had to, she'd describe it as a sort of sucking sound. Almost like a large, cosmic vacuum. Not that the sound mattered, really. In fact, it was pretty inconsequential compared to the maelstrom itself. What mattered most, though, was the man not far from the hole. The idiot that had to be heroic and sacrifice himself. That same idiot had been responsible for fathering that bewildered, terrified teenager.
He'd even had the nerve to smile when the hole swallowed him up. And, as soon as his kindly face was removed from existence, the hole vanished with it. The life of her father wasn't the only thing it took with it, though. Her smile, bright and warm, was stolen that day. It wouldn't return for a long time.
2129. Undisclosed location.
It'd been years since the tragedy. Sorrow had hardened into rage. Before long, she'd thrown herself into the family tradition of mastering the Ripple. Over the course of a decade or two, she'd become a full-fledged master of the long-lost art. Her master had even called her gifted. The training had been grueling, but it was worth it.
Training hadn't been the only thing she'd been doing. A friend of the family, Rudol Von Fromm, had introduced her to her dad's time travelling. Her anger finally received a conduit, and after several years more of waiting, she was ready. At the crack of dawn on New Year's day, 2129, she stood in front of a time portal. It'd been her dad's tech that had made it possible, and she had every intent to make use of it.
She'd go back in time and make things right. If it meant the death of her, she'd prevent this timeline from happening. With resolve as strong as iron, she stepped on through the portal.
Present Day, New York
The first thing she did when her feet hit New York pavement was bend over and hurl. It wasn't long until she was dry heaving. In retrospect, she wished she'd eaten something before she went through. At least then there would've been something to puke up. The sounds of her agonized gagging drew the attention of a nearby police officer, who walked over. He laid his hand on her shoulder. It was out of concern, but she instinctively recoiled. The cop apologized and asked her name.
She couldn't use her real name, and explaining where she was from would get her labeled as insane. So she thought quick, and spat out the first thing that came to mind.
"Mel. My.. name is Mel."
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