The Fletcher name carried weight. It was the kind of name that made people whisper when they saw the family crest - a lion clutching a dagger - engraved onto black luxury cars and golden dinnerware alike.

Isaac grew up in that world of marble floors and suffocating expectations. Every inch of his life was shadowed by his twin brother, Irwin Fletcher - taller by a few centimetres, stronger, sharper, and always the one their father praised.

They shared the same sharp jawline and piercing eyes, but where Isaac's gaze was often distant and thoughtful, Irwin's burned with ambition. Their similarities only made the difference sting more.

From childhood, Isaac wasn't the competitive type. He didn't care about winning or impressing anyone. He preferred books over boxing, and quiet over chaos. But in the Fletcher household, that made him weak.

Everything began to change when they hit their mid-teens. That was when their father began pulling them into what he called "the family business."

The night of their induction still haunted Isaac.

"You like the luxury we have?" his father said, voice cold and hard as the cigars he always smoked. "Then you're going to have to like this side of it too."

That was the first time Isaac saw what the Fletchers truly were - not noblemen, not businessmen, but monsters in tailored suits. Extortion, drug distribution, arms trading, human trafficking - the Fletchers had their hands in every vile thing that could produce money.

They already had more than enough wealth to live comfortably for generations, but their father craved something far darker - power.

And Irwin? He fit right in.

He took to it like he was born for it - beating information out of men twice his age, taking lives without hesitation, smiling through the blood on his hands.

Isaac wasn't built for it. He didn't have the stomach for violence, nor the heart for cruelty. He wanted to read, to think, to breathe - but he was dragged along regardless.

Whenever he failed to meet expectations, his father's disdain deepened.

And whenever Irwin succeeded, he was praised as "a true Fletcher."

"A real Fletcher takes everything and never settles for less," their father would say.

After the Z Virus Outbreak, the family's corruption only grew deeper. In the chaos, their reach expanded, but Isaac couldn't keep up. He wasn't as ruthless or capable as the others, and soon, he was pushed out of the inner circle altogether.

The whispers followed him everywhere.

"Coward."

"Disgrace."

"Pussy."

Isaac stopped showing his face. He locked himself away inside the manor, retreating to the quiet of his room, surrounded by books and silence.

His younger sister, Elizabeth, was the only light in that house - a kind, innocent girl who still believed her family was just "wealthy and busy." She never knew about the blood money or the bodies.

But as time passed, Isaac saw her less and less. Irwin and their father kept her occupied with public appearances and social grooming, while Isaac hid from everyone, ashamed and bitter.

He pitied his mother, too, though her mind had long since been broken by the life she'd been forced into. She smiled at dinners, laughed when told to, and cried when no one watched.

Then came the day the Z Virus finally touched their household.

It felt like a mere flu that passed across them. None of them were affected by it, aside from Isaac. He wasn't the same man anymore. His body had changed. He could feel it - the strange tingling in his skin.

He had become something else.

A mutant.

And that was confirmed to him when his hand accidentally phased through a cup of water he reached out to grab.

At first, he was terrified. But soon, he realised it was the universe's cruel gift - a chance to escape and start anew.

So he left.

He packed a bag, left a single note on his bed that read: "I am no longer a Fletcher."

And that night, he vanished.

The world outside was unforgiving. Isaac wandered London's ruined streets, sleeping under bridges and stealing food by phasing into locked store doors. He was homeless, lost, and painfully naive.

Until the night he met Nadya.

He'd phased into a nightclub out of curiosity, wanting to see what normal people did for fun. But he got caught up in a brawl - shoved, punched, and pinned to the ground by angry drunks.

He was seconds away from phasing out when a fiery-haired woman burst into the fight, fists flying with unshakable confidence.

It was Nadya.

She knocked out half the room in under a minute and turned to him with a raised brow. "You should probably get out of here before these guys wake up."

She walked off without another word.

But despite all his awkwardness, Isaac couldn't suppress his curiosity and followed her.

His clumsy attempt at trailing her immediately caught her attention. When she lost her patience and couldn't ignore it any longer, she spun around, palm glowing with unstable energy.

"Stop following me, or I'll blow your bloody head off."

'She's a mutant!'

The small explosions cracking from her hand sent Isaac into a panic - so much so that he tried to phase through a nearby wall to flee… and failed.

He smashed straight into it, broke his nose, and blacked out on the spot.

When he woke up, his nose was healed, and two women were staring down at him - Nadya, and Amina, her serene healer companion.

After explaining who he was and awkwardly demonstrating his power (phasing halfway through a chair), they realised he wasn't just a lunatic.

Nadya chuckled."So you were trying to phase. I thought you'd just gone mental."

Seeing how lost he was, Amina was reminded of herself after losing her family and offered him a place. "If you want to help… maybe you can stay with us. We're a team of sorts."

And that was how Isaac joined the Mutant Outlaws.

Nadya swore never to mention how she met Isaac, per his request. It wasn't long after that she came to understand and appreciate his presence.

He started as the awkward, uptight posh boy no one could stand, always correcting people and trying to make plans they never followed. But over time, that changed.

He found friendship. Purpose. A place to belong.

He became the Phaser - the scout, the infiltrator, the one who could slip through walls and bring back what no one else could reach.

His biggest mission was one he'd never forget - the operation to kidnap Nyx, who threatened their freedom as mutants.

Isaac had grabbed the mad scientist by the arm, only for Nyx to cut it off himself to escape.

It was his first true failure. But also the mission that proved his worth.

When the Outlaws went after Nyx again - to stop his mutant suppressant research - Isaac went with Nadya and Takeshi. That mission cost him his arm, but it gained them something far greater.

They found Kai - the Bloodweaver.

And from that point on, the rest was history.

Isaac Fletcher, once the weak link of a corrupt family, had become a man capable of standing beside legends. A man who had carved his own path - not through privilege or family, but through choice.

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