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Chapter 54: Actual Blasphemy
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Emma showed genuine surprise, her psychic shields momentarily down. "I didn't take you for the edgy type, Adam."
He shrugged, utterly unembarrassed. "I've earned my edgy phase."
Emma's expression shifted from playful to contemplative. She traced a finger along his collarbone.
"Why are you so… careless right now? I know you no longer have Magneto's helmet. Whatever trick you used before to block me seemed costly. Yet you're completely unguarded. I think highly of your intelligence. This doesn't seem like you."
[She's right. The helmet's gone. Is he relying on her goodwill? That's not his style.]
[Something's different. Did he upgrade himself with Envy? Maybe he got a new ability?]
Adam's eyes met hers, and the playful warmth vanished, replaced by an eerie, bottomless calm.
It was the look of someone observing the universe through a telescope.
"I can see you won't do anything," He said, his voice devoid of inflection. "And even if you tried, your power wouldn't be as effective against me as it once was."
The certainty in his statement was absolute.
She didn't sense a bluff. She felt, unnervingly, seen; not just her body, but her intentions, her shifting loyalties, her curiosity.
Instead of feeling threatened, a thrill of excitement shot through her. She liked him more and more.
She decided to test him another way, a naughty, half-serious smile on her lips. "Be my boyfriend," She proposed. "Our thought processes are… compatible. We're perfect for each other."
Adam looked at her, his expression returning to normal as he cancelled whatever ability or capability he was using.
He looked at her gorgeous face, filled with playful challenge. He gently smiled again, stroking her hair. He looked for a moment like he might agree, his expression softening.
Then he spoke. "I'm growing fond of you, Emma. I don't want to break your heart."
She giggled, the sound rich and delighted. "You truly believe I'd fall for you?"
Adam's answer was immediate, delivered with the serene certainty of stating that gravity exists. "Naturally. I am destined for the Absolute. It is, therefore, an absolute impossibility not to fall."
Emma Frost, the White Queen of the Hellfire Club, master telepath and manipulator, was left utterly awestruck.
He had just uttered one of the corniest, most conceited lines imaginable. Yet, spoken with his utter, world-bending conviction, it didn't sound corny. It sounded like a prophecy.
It sounded, against all reason, exquisite.
[So true! Sometimes he says some bullshit I feel should sound corny, but it sounds so fucking cool.]
[I swear it's a fucking superpower.]
[My superpower is that everything I hear sounds cringe. That didn't sound cringe.]
[It's Hydra brainwashing you to not talk shit about Adam, lest they find and destroy u.]
[True, I felt the brainwashing, but it's the Illuminati, not Hydra.]
[...]
[We're nothing like Hydra. We don't want World Domination for ourselves, but for the First, Adam.]
[Ok, What??]
[Shush, you're making it worse.]
[This Doom agrees. Adam has half my intelligence, thus he is half me. It's only natural to rule the World. It's destined.]
[I'm loving it here.] [I know, right? Sometimes I feel like the chat is what makes the show.]
[Then you remember why the chat is so unhinged and you have an existential crisis.]
'How do you do it?' Was the question bubbling in Emma's mind as she eyed him strangely.
"Certainty," Adam answered her unspoken question, his eyes narrowing in peaceful contentment.
He wasn't looking at her; he was gazing at the horizon of his own imagined future, a destiny he was drafting in real-time.
"When you speak a truth you have built yourself, from the ground up, with your own hands and will, it carries a different weight. It doesn't sound like a boast. It sounds like a…"
He was interrupted not by words, but by action. Emma captured his lips in a deep, sensuous kiss, pouring a startling amount of genuine feeling into it.
It seemed his absolute, mad conviction was the most potent aphrodisiac she had ever encountered. Ahem. Suffice to say, Adam had his morning 'boxing session' of the day.
They took a shower together, which inevitably involved a vigorous and very aquatic round two.
Only after, as they were getting dressed amidst the steam and the lingering energy, did Emma finally state her official business.
"The Black King and Queen want to meet you," She said, meticulously applying her lipstick using his bathroom mirror.
Her tone was casual, but the weight of the statement hung in the humid air.
"Sebastian Shaw and Lourdes Chantel. The White King spot is… available. If you can convince them you're more than just a clever upstart with good taste in partners, it could be yours."
Adam paused, buttoning his crisp white shirt. The Hellfire Club. The inner circle.
The White King wasn't just a title; it was a position of immense, shadowy power.
It meant a seat at a table that influenced global finance, politics, and even mutant affairs from behind velvet curtains and layers of plausible deniability.
It meant resources, connections, and a degree of legitimacy in the world of dark elites. It also meant being shackled to the Club's ancient, often vicious, agendas.
"An intriguing offer," Adam conceded, his cybernetic eye whirring as he processed. "But it will have to wait. I have pressing business in Los Angeles. It shouldn't take more than a week."
[The Hellfire Club is making a move! But they want to recruit the chaos agent!? I feel like they're gonna regret it.]
[White King Adam Cypher… That has a nice ring to it.]
[Log Angeles? It must be Tony Stark he's visiting, no?]
[The black king and queen are Sebastian Shaw and Lourdes Chantel? Does anyone know what timeline this is?]
[Dunno.] [The Marvel multiverse is a mystery.]
Emma turned, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched. "And what, pray tell, is more important than securing the White Kingship of the Hellfire Club?"
Adam finished with his cuffs and gave her a brilliant, knowing smile. "Tony Stark."
Emma's surprise melted into a rich, appreciative laugh. "Of course. You're rising so quickly it's giving me whiplash. You don't disappoint."
She finished dressing, the simple act of her putting on her clothes performed with a theatrical grace that held Adam fascinated. She was so goddamn gorgeous, a masterpiece of aesthetics and power.
Today was a good fucking day.
God, he felt like he was exuding endless happiness. He never knew that life could be so vibrant.
So, he walked up to her and took her face in his hands, and brought her in for another kiss, softer this time, followed by a gentle, lingering hug.
"Thank you," He murmured against her hair, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "For showing me a… vast new world."
He then walked her to the elevator. Emma, for perhaps the first time in a decade, was left slightly speechless. His behavior was a paradox.
The intimacy, the romance of the gesture, clashed violently with his stated disinterest in relationships.
But as the elevator doors closed on his smiling face, she understood. Adam Cypher valued happiness above all currencies.
When you gave him a novel, positive experience; whether it was a new technology, a successful financial raid, or a night of profound physical pleasure; he couldn't help but reciprocate with genuine, focused gratitude.
He was, at his core, a creature of intense, transactional appreciation. It made him seem deceptively lovely, warm even.
That's the danger, she mused. He could be manipulated through his hedonism.
But then she remembered the way his eyes had turned cold and all-seeing when she questioned his lack of psychic defense. He saw through facades.
Manipulating him would be like trying to sell ice to a man who understood thermodynamics at a quantum level. A smile touched her lips.
No, deception was off the table. She truly liked him, and she saw a blindingly bright, if dangerously unstable, future in his wake. She would support him. For now.
[Hmm, I see why he can be so dangerous and weirdly deceiving.]
[He's weaponizing gratitude. He experiences something good and pays it back tenfold. That's… weirdly wholesome for a narcissist.]
[He's gonna be a heartbreaker, whether he wants to or not.]
Adam went to his second office, his more public office on the lower floor.
There, Domino awaited him, leaning against his desk with her arms crossed.
Beside her stood a stern, efficient-looking middle-aged woman in a severe pantsuit; his newly hired head of HR, Ms. Arbogast.
"Sir," Ms. Arbogast said, her voice clipped. She handed him a tablet. "Per your request for a personal executive assistant. I've conducted preliminary interviews with seventeen highly qualified candidates."
"Their dossiers, my notes, and preliminary psych evals are all here. I've highlighted the top ten."
Adam took the tablet with a nod. "Good job." His cybernetic eye flickered as he scrolled.
The data streamed past at a speed no human could comprehend. He stopped on the seventh profile.
A slow smile spread across his face. "This one. Just this one."
Ms. Arbogast blinked. "Sir? Candidate Seven? She… She has a tendency towards unconventional problem-solving and noted stubbornness... Did you… review the notes?"
Adam chuckled, handing the tablet back. "Ms. Arbogast, I am a profoundly superficial person. I make decisions based on aesthetics, gut feeling, and whether something… suits my taste."
He gestured to the photo on the screen; a woman with a fierce, intelligent expression and a magnificent cascade of deep auburn hair. "She suits my taste."
Domino, who had been watching with amusement, chimed in. "She's a redhead, too. That's a big plus for him."
They both looked amused. Ms. Arbogast looked like her meticulously ordered world had just been tipped into a blender.
"I… see," She managed, the words strained. "Okay. I will… extend the offer to Ms. Natalie immediately."
[My man!! Redheads for the win!]
[But he cheated on redheads with fucking blondes.]
[Actual Blasphemy!!]
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