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[20 Chapters in Advance on Patre.on]
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Chapter 108: Hello Boys!
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Adam had been right. The ripple effects of his press conference were so vast, so profound, that even his own predictive models were struggling to chart their full extent.
The world didn't just turn on its axis; it entered a state of perpetual, high-velocity spin.
That week, the media feasted like kings at an endless banquet.
Every headline, every news ticker, every watercooler conversation was dominated by one name, and the hydra-headed specter he had unleashed. Hydra.
The terabytes of data Adam dumped onto the public internet were a digital Pandora's box.
News organizations, hacker collectives, and curious citizens dug through the files, unearthing what felt like decades of meticulously documented horror.
Secret experiments. Political assassinations framed as accidents. Wars sparked for profit and population control.
The kidnapping and processing of thousands, mutant and human alike. The evidence was overwhelming, irrefutable, and utterly damning.
Adam hadn't just leaked what he knew. He'd thrown in speculative files, half-truths he'd inferred, and a generous helping of pure, unadulterated bullshit, all neatly stamped with forged Hydra letterheads.
Why the fuck not? He'd reasoned. If you're going to burn a house down, you might as well toss in a few grenades for the aesthetic.
It felt so good to Adam to have a target to blame for everything, and no one would doubt it because they're just that fucking evil. Hydra and Mephisto are truly kindred spirits in that regard.
To throw blame on them fills him with such joy and cleanses every chunk of stress off him, so much so that it feels like his calling in life.
Some of the revelations found in the leaks were so shocking that even S.H.I.E.L.D., scrambling to contain the fallout, found themselves learning new, horrific details about their eternal enemy.
The story was too big to suppress. Alice, Adam's personal AI, ensured that not only can it not be suppressed, but also be widespread everywhere.
It's naturally impossible to suppress something so grand, but there were attempts to contain it or at least slow down the reach of the news.
The attempts to scrub the data or bury the headlines were met with aggressive counter-measures, algorithmic amplification, and mirroring across every Pulse and Flow node.
Cypher's social platforms became the de facto hubs for the #HydraExposed movement, pushing the narrative with relentless, algorithmic force.
Then, Tony Stark poured gasoline on the fire.
In a terse, furious press statement, he confirmed the validity of the leaked data and announced a global, open-ended bounty on Hydra operatives and intelligence.
His voice was cold steel. "They are responsible for the deaths of my parents," He stated, the raw emotion cutting through his usual bravado. "I will find them. I will dismantle them. Whatever it takes."
The billionaire was personally bankrolling a crusade.
And then, the final seismic event of the week; Tony Stark looked directly into a crowd of reporters and said the words that shattered the last vestiges of a "normal" world. "I am Iron Man."
The revelation sent a shockwave of a different kind. The mysterious "Iron Man" who had ended a terrorist siege was Tony Stark.
The Playboy Genius was an armored superhero. It contextualized his partnership with Adam Cypher in a blinding new light.
They weren't just eccentric tech rivals or tech partners; they were a nascent coalition of extraordinary gentlemen, united against a shadow war.
Public trust in Stark Industries soared. Interest in Cypher Enterprises, already astronomical, became a supernova.
Advertisers who had fled during the controversies came crawling back, checkbooks open wider than before.
The traffic across Cypher's platforms was breaking records. Opportunities fell like rain.
Microsoft and Sony made overtures within hours of each other, seeking partnerships to integrate the revolutionary C-Series GPUs into the next generation of Xbox and PlayStation.
The world was realigning itself around the new reality Adam had declared.
Most importantly, the attention whore that he is, he spent the week feeling like he was experiencing an orgasm simulator; It was exquisite.
[Hydra is trending more than pop stars. They're public enemy #1.]
[Adam's kindness makes me tear up. He really kept his word and made them famous. Ah! Such generosity!]
["I AM IRON MAN." ICONIC. And it totally validates Adam's whole "superhero" angle.]
[Cypher Ent is drowning in money and deals. And Sony and Microslop mentioned, cool.]
[I feel sorry for Hydra man, they're suffering from success. They're too good at evil.]
[I was just watching a gangbang porn with sadist shit, I think Hydra is about to experience an even worse gangbang.]
[Yikes, why do people even like gangbangs? That shit's trash.]
[Facts! It's so garbage, just watch tentacle hentai at that point. It's that disgusting.]
[Dunno man, I had seen this hentai where three horses gangbanged a hottie, it's good shit I tell ya.]
[...] [????] [Wtf are u all talking about? Smh.] [...]
The discussions were endless. But amidst the Hydra mania, two of Adam's other, more casual revelations began to haunt the public consciousness. Aliens. Demons.
If Hydra was real, if mutants were real… what else was he telling the truth about? Do aliens and demons exist?
The question sparked a low-grade, global panic that simmered beneath the headlines.
S.H.I.E.L.D. maintained radio silence, but other agencies, like Homeland Security, had to speak in their stead.
They were forced to acknowledge the ongoing, multi-agency operation against the designated terrorist organization HYDRA, in cooperation with certain private entities.
They carefully did not name Cypher, but the implication was clear.
Yet, mutant hatred, a weed with deep roots, refused to die. A significant, vocal minority; some organically bigoted, some undoubtedly stirred by Hydra's lingering influence; reacted with fear and loathing.
Adam's very public mutant status, and his bold PR campaign for the X-Men, were seen not as heroic but as a terrifying consolidation of power.
Loud voices on cable news demanded mutant registration, public exposure, and "security measures."
They painted Adam not as a victim or a hero, but as a dangerously unhinged super-being with too much money and influence.
Professor Charles Xavier watched this backlash unfold from Westchester with a heavy heart.
He had not approved of Adam's methods. The blunt, chaotic, media-saturating approach was anathema to his philosophy of quiet guidance and gradual understanding.
In his mind, someone so aggressive, so blatantly manipulative and manic, was not a suitable leader for mutantkind.
Yet, he also saw the undeniable surge in visibility, and he saw the vision. He saw acceptance of the X-Men as heroes. The X-Men must appear more in the public eye.
He felt trapped. If only Adam could be a little more conservative in his approach.
But no, he knew trying to persuade Adam was like trying to redirect a hurricane with polite conversation.
The certainty radiating from the young man was absolute, a fortress of self-belief more impervious than Magneto's helmet.
His certainty and confidence are more stubborn than Erik, Xavier mused with a sigh. And that is truly a formidable achievement.
Adam's phone buzzed incessantly. One call he notably ignored was from Blade.
The Daywalker had much to say; accusations, warnings, demands for proof that Adam hadn't become the very monster they'd hunted.
Seeing Adam walk in sunlight on the news had shaken Blade to his core. It shouldn't be possible. That success bred not relief, but deeper suspicion.
He needed to test Adam himself, to look into his eyes and know. But Adam was… busy.
[Professor X is having a crisis of ideology.]
[He's being converted to the dark side! Nice!]
[I must correct u. Converted to the light. Adam is the chosen one!]
[U know, the fact that I'm not sure whether you're being sarcastic or one of his cult followers is kinda scary.]
[The mutant registration crowd is so predictable and infuriating.]
"Busy," In this case, involved a floating picnic that was causing a traffic jam in downtown Manhattan.
Ororo Munroe had been sent by a weary Professor X to retrieve Jean, Anna, Bobby, and Kurt, who had been vacationing with Adam for a few days.
She arrived with the X-Men's special aircraft, Blackwing, so how did she end up sitting cross-legged on thin air fifty stories up with them, enjoying burritos as if on a park bench?
Below them, a growing crowd pointed and gaped, smartphones held aloft.
Two masked men hung in the air nearby, imprisoned by invisible telekinetic force, screaming in terror.
They had been in the middle of an armed robbery when Jean Grey, with effortless grace, had simply… stopped them. The entire scene was surreal.
Ororo had arrived via the Blackbird, the X-Men's advanced aircraft, which was currently hovering in stealth mode directly beneath the picnicking group.
They weren't sitting on air; they were lounging on the perfectly invisible wing of a supersonic jet.
It was peak X-Men absurdity.
As police sirens wailed in the distance, Adam sighed. "Ah, the boys in blue. Always late to the party."
He pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and a brilliant, practiced smile lit up his face.
"Hello, boys!" He said brightly, starting a live short-form video.
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[ 1000 Power Stones For An Extra Chapter! ]
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