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Hello to all and sundry. My name is James Edward Cruz, and I am a mutant. Funny that, can you imagine that one day you wake up and find out, I'm not normal. I don't mean abnormal, or somehow different in perspective. What I mean is you wake up and your fundamental reality is somehow different, warped by the addition of something else, something unnatural.

I was born in the year 1800, although one would say that I look far younger than my two hundred years would seem. Then again, after centuries of fighting and killing, I'm beginning to weary after this much time has passed. While the mutants of our day have flitted with the possibility of integration or separation, I've been watching and laughing at their antics. Like any child, they are grasping at concepts that are so far removed from everyday reality as to be absurd.

I've recently befriended a few members of an "elite" group that call themselves the X-Men. While I would, naturally, tend to shy away from contact with people who have an ideological posture about our "kind", I found these folk to be entertaining and downright likable. They seemed pleased to gain a new friend, even if our perspectives are a tad bit different, and I enjoyed our drinks. I may keep an eye out to see if they need anything, but if time has shown me anything, it's that I tend to function better alone.

So, those of you looking into my dossier might be wondering, who am I? Well, as I stated before, I'm Jamed Edward Cruz. However, my "moniker", as I've come to think of it, is simply "Traveller". Not the most original sobriquet, but I assure you, it's a valid one. I've lived long past what any other human should, and I've taken injuries that would've put a normal man six feet below the cold earth. I assure you, my only explanation for that ability is that any grievous wounds I am given send my body into a coma, after which I wake and am once again whole.

The reason I'm known as the "Traveller" is simple, I've lived centuries and have always either outlived or moved on from those I love. Centuries of leaving gave me my name, simple as that. As for the longevity, I have been given many different reasons for my abnormally long life, but the most anyone can figure is that my body has evolved past cellular degeneration... Strange, but I've heard of stranger things...

My "mutation", for those of you who like your neat and clean scientific explanations, allows me to discharge plasma attacks from my hands. Destructive and an entirely devastating way to die, should I choose to attack someone. It's kind of ironic, well maybe it isn't, but that singular ability has left more misery and destruction in its wake than any hellhound...

Other than that, I'm fairly normal, although that's not considering the "precognitive flashes" that I suffer from time to time. That's right, not only can I shoot you with deadly beams from my hand, but I can see the future... Well, sort of see the future. Mostly I see the next few minutes or, occasionally, I'll see a long-term projection. It's a useful ability when it lets me avoid getting hurt, or assists me in helping someone, but I can't rely on it and frankly, it's too much of a headache knowing what will happen a few years from now.