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Chapter 47: The Vision Is...
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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.
It was in this lull of contentment that Jean finally broached the subject that had been niggling at her. "Adam," She began, setting her spoon down. "What are you planning to do with all that footage?"
Scott looked up, his brow furrowing. The others' attention was captured.
He'd asked for their help with a few… projects, and he recorded them all. He was very careful not to show their face, only their powers at work. But considering the troublemaker he is, it's… unsettling.
Adam finished his mouthful, a serene smile playing on his lips. "It's for a promotion," He said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"For my company's first product. It's called 'Pulse.' A short-form video platform."
A stunned silence blanketed the table.
"You… launched a company?" Kurt asked, his tail giving a curious flick.
Adam nodded, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "Cypher Industries. The paperwork was finalized this morning."
Scott's frown deepened, his meal forgotten. "You want to promote this 'Pulse' thing… using our powers? Adam, that's a terrible idea. The Professor would never agree to it. It's reckless."
[He's using mutant powers for a corporate ad campaign? That's so brazen it might just work!]
[It will definitely work!]
[Scott's already the fun police. Let the man market his app!]
[Professor X is gonna have a cerebro-hemorrhage when he finds out.]
Adam raised a single eyebrow, his expression one of genuine, unfeigned confusion. "Why would that be bad?"
The question was so simple, so utterly devoid of the political baggage they all carried, that it left them momentarily speechless.
"Why?" Scott repeated, his voice tight. "Because it's giving our enemies free ammunition! It's handing them information on a silver platter!"
Adam burst out laughing, a rich, unforced sound that echoed in the dining room. "Scott, my friend, your enemies already have files upon files on all of you. They have your childhood addresses, your favorite colors, and a detailed breakdown of your power's maximum output."
"HYDRA, the Hellfire Club, the MRD… they know. Hiding your capabilities only works against those who aren't already dedicated to your extinction."
"But publicizing them will cause unrest!" Jean interjected, leaning forward. "It will only fuel human fear of us. It's one thing for our enemies to know; it's another for the entire world to be reminded of what we can do every time they scroll through their phones."
[Jean has a point. Fear of the unknown is bad, but fear of the known and powerful can be worse.]
[But Adam's not wrong either! The bad guys already have the playbook!]
Adam's smile didn't fade; it transformed. It became wilder.
He raised a hand, covering his eyes as his shoulders shook with silent mirth.
The laughter that escaped a moment later wasn't one of joy, but of dawning, profound revelation.
It was the sound of a man who had just solved a complex equation and found the answer to be absurdly simple.
He lowered his hand, his single eye locking onto Cyclops with an intensity that was almost physical.
"I understand now," Adam said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I finally understand. You've all been conditioned. Conditioned to fear your own power. To be almost… ashamed of it."
The air left the room. No one moved.
"Society has shunned you for so long," He continued, his gaze sweeping across their faces. "Parents disown their children for the crime of existence, something they had no say in."
"You are told from birth that what you are is wrong. A mistake. And that conditioning… it worked. To what degree depends on the person, but I see it in almost all of you. A deep-seated belief that you should stay in the shadows."
He leaned forward, his eye alight with a fervent passion. "Think about it. How much evil have you stopped? How many times have you saved this city, this world?"
"I did the research. The good you do is buried, if it's reported at all. But the bad done by mutants? Or the lies fabricated about mutants? It's front-page news."
"The media, fueled by governments that fear you, spews atrocity after atrocity because it drives engagement, and because you never fight back. You never sue for defamation. You just… take it."
His voice hardened. "Charles has a belief that fear can be overcome through connection. A noble sentiment. But where is the connection? As far as the majority of the world is concerned, the X-Men are a rumor."
"A ghost story. You protect humanity from the shadows, terrified of the light. But to be understood, to be heard, you have to shine in the light!"
[OH MY GOD. HE'S BREAKING THEIR BRAINWASHING LIVE!]
["Conditioned to fear your own power." I agree with that so hard.]
[Goddamn, he's spitting.]
[He's not just talking about PR; he's talking about a fundamental shift in mutant ideology!]
[W Adam. Keep spitting!] [+1] [+1] [+1] [+1] [+1] [W Speed!]
[...]
Adam's expression went flat, the passion draining away to be replaced by sterile certainty. "Now I understand why the mutant cause is so hopeless in all my predictive models. You lost the war before it even began."
His mind, his memories, they flickered with all that he remembered, the constant unshifting trajectory of mutants.
Genosha. The Legacy Virus. M-Day. The bleak future timelines.
He remembered one statistic with chilling clarity, a fact that had broken the heart of a younger self in that sterile hospital room: the mutant nation of Genosha, and the single worst act of genocide in mutant history.
A sentinel-driven massacre that reduced the global mutant population from over 17 million to less than a million in a single day. A 94% extinction event.
[He's thinking of Genosha… Oh god, the 16 million…]
[Now that he says it. I'm remembering just how much mutants had suffered.]
[Oh, it's so much worse. Morlock Massacre. Post-decimation ex-mutant massacres and the school bus bombings.]
[Damn...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] [...]
[Why are you guys acting like mutants are innocent? They've done a lot of atrocious shit too.]
[Yeah, that's a good way to look at it, look at your race, have someone done something atrocious? Why don't we just delete your race from existence?]
[Blame the writers; they gave every mutant villain plot armor, so they always come back and make things worse.]
[The writers also just have a boner for mutant genocide.]
[The writers have a boner for genocide of all kinds.]
The mutants at the table sat in a gloomy, stunned silence. The weight of his words, the brutal, unvarnished truth of their situation, was a physical pressure in the room.
The delicious food tasted like ash in their mouths.
"What would you have us do, then?" Scott asked, his voice hollow. It was less a challenge and more a plea for an answer he couldn't find himself.
Adam's expression snapped back to his usual peaceful smile, the transition so swift it was dizzying. "For now? Nothing."
"Nothing?" Kurt echoed, a note of despair in his voice. "It cannot be that bad, surely? What we are doing... It must be doing something."
"It is," Adam agreed, his tone gentle but firm. "It's doing something minuscule. You are applying bandaids to a patient bleeding out from a severed artery."
He took a sip of water. "There has never been a nation in all of human history that survived primarily on kindness."
"Kindness can strengthen a nation, but it has never been the core pillar of its survival."
"What are the true pillars? Military strength. Economic power. Strategic alliances. Harsh, undeniable deterrence. Social cohesion. Strong governance."
He counted them off on his fingers. "You have none of these in any meaningful capacity. Your financial power is decent for a school, but a pittance in the global economy. You have no political power; Hank is trying, but it's a slow, grinding process. You have no media control. Nothing."
His gaze drifted to Jean, lingering for a moment. "Well, you have a lot of power. Arguably, the most power of anyone on the planet. But you can't, or won't, use it. And that is the cage you've built for yourselves."
[He's laying out the realpolitik of survival. This is Magneto's argument, no?]
[No, nowhere close. Magneto mostly appreciates power, nothing else.]
[Tf is that comparison? It's nothing like Magneto, he has no media control, no political power, very little financial power.]
[Also, Magneto is just not a good ruler; his mind is contaminated by brainrot.]
["You have a lot of power… but you can't, or won't, use it." He's looking right at Jean, the Phoenix!]
[But it's true, though, the X-Men could be so much more. Then again, when they tried to be a nation, they were exterminated, so dunno.]
[I see it. Adam's brilliant. I see the vision...]
[Hello? Are u gonna continue? Tell us the vision!]
[The vision is... Give me a few months, gotta go get milk.]
[????????] [...] [...] [...] [Lmao.] [Lol]
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