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Chapter 46: Unintentional Rizz
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The faces of all those present twitched. Yeah, he's a maniac; his thought process is incomprehensible.
As Joshua began his work, his hands starting to glow with a soft, golden light, Adam watched him like a master jeweler appraising a flawless diamond.
His gaze was so intense, so openly calculating, that the young mutant began to fidget nervously.
"Adam, you're scaring him," Jean chided with a soft chuckle.
Adam shrugged, not looking away. "A walking, talking Elixir is a rare treasure. It's hard not to stare."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper directed at Joshua. "How would you like to come work for me? The benefits are… chaotic, but never boring."
Joshua paled, his healing stuttering for a second. "I... I'm with the X-Men, sir!"
Adam let out a booming laugh, leaning back. "I'm just joking! Mostly. I didn't think the Professor would be so careless as to let a treasure like you out of his sight."
[He's not joking! He's absolutely not joking!]
[The way he looked at him… he was mentally adding him to his inventory.]
[Poor Joshua looks like he's about to have a heart attack. Adam's "friendly" recruitment drive is terrifying.]
By the time the session was over, Joshua was slumped in a chair, drenched in sweat and exhaustion.
The sheer volume of cellular damage he'd had to reverse was ludicrous; it was a medical miracle that Adam had been conscious, let alone walking and making bad jokes.
Adam, meanwhile, after thanking the young man profusely, strode to a mirror, eyeing his now-unblemished skin, the only remnants a few carefully selected, silvery scars he'd insisted on keeping.
The ruined socket was now smooth, unmarked skin, though the eye itself was, of course, gone for good.
"Damn," He whispered, tracing the line of his jaw. "I'm in love." He flexed an arm, turning to admire his profile. "Truly, a masterpiece. The symmetry is ruined, but the character… impeccable."
Cyclops could only facepalm, the sheer narcissism overwhelming his already frayed patience.
"Right!" Adam declared, clapping his hands together. "Workshop tour! Scott, you're going to love this."
He led the bewildered team down to the basement, which had been converted into a sprawling, cluttered workshop.
It was a marvel of organized chaos. Tiny mechanical spiders skittered across a workbench, performing intricate tasks.
In a corner stood the incomplete titanium skeleton of a large, canine-shaped machine, wires spilling from its open chassis like metallic entrails.
Several sleek, black drones were suspended from charging cables, their camera lenses dark.
Adam finally stopped before a heavy, reinforced container. Inside rested a lump of dull, grey metal surrounded by vials of colorful, volatile-looking chemicals.
"The favor," Adam said, turning to Cyclops. "I'm trying to manufacture a new alloy. The problem is the perfect melting and bonding temperature for all these components is… prohibitively high."
"I'm not yet sure how high yet. But I theorize your optic blasts, with their concussive and thermal properties, might be enough."
As they began to set up, Anna lingered by Adam's side, watching him with rapt attention, while Jean and Domino retreated upstairs, a silent agreement passing between them that they had much to discuss.
Honestly, Cyclops had wanted to be angry. He'd rehearsed a speech in his head on the way over.
But Adam's relentless, genuine friendliness was a disarming tactic he hadn't been prepared for.
Did the man not realize Scott despised him? Why was he being so… nice?
He blamed Adam for everything. For the change in Jean. She was wilder now, less restrained, more willing to push ethical boundaries.
The distance between him and Jean had only grown, his hopes for a relationship feeling more hopeless by the day.
Adam's influence was a corrosive force on the order Scott held so dear.
He decided on bluntness. As he carefully aimed his visor at the metal sample, he spoke, his voice tight. "I don't like you, Cypher."
Adam, who was noting the reaction of the metal to the initial blast, didn't look up. "I know."
"It's because of you that Jean is changing. She's becoming more extreme. Do you know what she did last week? She put mental blocks in the minds of the criminals we apprehended."
"She altered their psyches so they would feel a wave of crippling dread if they even thought about committing a violent act again."
Adam finally looked up, his single eye wide with awe. "That's… genius!" He exclaimed, a look of profound pride on his face.
"A psychological inhibitor tied to malicious intent? Scott, that's wonderful, so why the doom and gloom?! You should be proud!"
Cyclops was speechless. This was not the reaction he had anticipated. "Do you even realize what you've done?"
Scott finally managed, his voice rising. "Now that she's started messing with people's minds, her restraints will continue to erode! She'll only become more extreme!"
Adam's smile was beatific, almost reverent. "I do realize what I've done, Scott. I've awakened the Phoenix. And it is so goddamn beautiful to watch."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a confident, intimate whisper. "And if worst comes to worst, if the world starts to burn… I'll be there to hold it. You needn't worry so much."
[HE SAID THE THING!]
["I'll be there to hold it." The sheer, unshakable confidence! My god!]
[Even if Jean is upstairs, you know she just heard every word of that. Unintentional rizz of the highest order!]
[Is it unintentional, though? Hmm, Doakes sees u, Adam. He's watching.]
Cyclops was left utterly speechless. The confidence, the certainty, the carelessness of the potential chaos he could bring... He just couldn't understand.
Adam just laughed at Scott's stunned silence. "You'll understand in the future, Scott. And when you do, my offer stands. I'd love to steal you from the Professor's stuffy lecture halls. Your potential is wasted on remedial ethics."
Anna, who had been watching them work, tilted her head in confusion. Kurt and Joshua, who had been fascinated by the mechanical spiders, felt their ears twitch.
Damn, he thought, this guy is so daring. But what was this strange air of… bromance he was sensing?
[Cyclops is getting NTR'd by the villain!]
[Adam is seducing everyone! First Rogue, Jean, now Cyclops! Who's next? The narrator?]
[Dude, he's not seducing anyone. I think that's just how he is!]
[He's got that unintentional rizz, I think.]
[Damn, I feel so bad for Cyclops, his crush got stolen, but the stealer is too friendly and isn't even trying to steal.]
[Oof, that's gotta be hard to deal with.]
Soon, however, the sheer intellectual challenge of the work took over.
Cyclops, forgetting his anger, focused on channeling his optic blasts with precise control, melting, superheating, and bonding the strange components under Adam's direction.
They experimented, seeing how different materials and chemicals reacted to the unique concussive and thermal energy of the blasts.
They tested tensile strength, conductivity, and molecular resonance.
Sparks flew, metals glowed, and vials of chemicals hissed and smoked under the controlled bombardment.
And despite himself, Scott had to admit it was fun. It was pure, unadulterated science, unburdened by morality or consequence.
And for a few hours, in a basement in Hell's Kitchen, two of the most diametrically opposed minds in the Marvel universe found common ground in the simple, universal truth that all boys love tech.
The workshop, still smelling of molten metal, was left behind as Adam shepherded his guests upstairs.
The intellectual fervor of the afternoon gave way to a different, more domestic energy.
Adam was a man who treasured happiness above all else, and he believed in reciprocity; the kindness they had shown him by coming, by healing him, would be returned tenfold.
He didn't cook; he engineered a fucking experience. Using his brilliant mind to deconstruct and then perfect the recipe, by looking up the recipe... Ahem.
He created a Chili Con Carne that was less a meal and more a symphony of flavor.
The rich, complex aroma of seared meat, toasted spices, and slow-simmered tomatoes filled the brownstone, a sensory blanket that smothered the lingering tension.
They sat around the large wooden table; Adam, Domino, Jean, Scott, Kurt, Anna, and an amazed Joshua.
Forks clinked against bowls, and for a long while, the only sounds were contented hums and the occasional sigh of pleasure.
It was a simple, normal dinner. And yet, for the X-Men, it felt like the most relaxing, unburdened time they had experienced in years.
There were no emergency alerts, no psychic distress calls, no looming existential threats.
There was just good food, a warm room, and the company of… well, a chaotic enigma and his lethal companion.
The contrast was jarringly pleasant.
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