Make sure to check my Patre.on out if you want to support me and want to read advanced chapters: Patre.on.com/VQuintessence
[20 Chapters in Advance on Patre.on]
...........
Chapter 111: U Bneen Livning In Cave?
...........
Adam's expression went oddly thoughtful for a second, then he nodded. "Makes sense. I am the Treasure."
He burst out laughing, and after a beat, Emma joined him, Anna and Domino rolling their eyes at the two narcissists. Adam took Anna's hand. "Lead on, Emma."
The mansion's interior was a testament to old-world wealth, power, and elegance.
This was the New York headquarters of the Hellfire Club. To the public, it was an ultra-exclusive social club for the global elite.
In truth, it was a centuries-old secret society, originally a gathering of wealthy British merchants in the 1700s, now a cabal of mutant and human power brokers who manipulated world events from the shadows for wealth, influence, and their own esoteric goals.
It was a snake pit in silk and tailcoats.
Emma guided them through marbled halls lined with Old Master paintings, past rooms where murmured conversations over vintage brandy decided corporate takeovers and political campaigns.
She pointed out a few important individuals in passing; an oil magnate, a media baron, a general; their faces masks of polite curiosity over their underlying avarice.
"Remember," Emma whispered to Adam as they approached a set of double oak doors.
"Do not mention the Black Queen in front of Shaw. Lourdes Chantel… died in a recent incident. Bringing her up puts him in a mood."
She pushed the doors open.
The room beyond was a conference chamber, but one designed as a throne room. A long, obsidian table dominated the space.
The chairs around it were luxurious, but four were distinct: two were upholstered in deepest black, two in brilliant white.
The Royal Chairs of the Inner Circle: Black King, Black Queen, White King, White Queen.
Sebastian Shaw, the Black King, was absent.
"He'll be along shortly," Emma said, gliding to one of the white chairs. "Make yourselves comfortable." She gestured, and a silent servant appeared with a cart of exquisite pastries and tea.
Without hesitation, Adam walked to the other white chair; the seat of the White King; and sat down, crossing his legs.
Emma's lips curled in a smirk. "Quite daring, darling. Does the puppy think the seat is his already?"
Adam shrugged. "I'm famously reckless. I'm not even sure I want the seat. You all have a lot of convincing to do."
He leaned forward, picking up a delicate macaron. "I mean, the benefits package better include a dental plan. And a clause about not being fed to Shaw when he's peckish."
Emma's smirk widened. "Oh?"
The air, surprisingly, grew relaxed. Adam, as he often did, steered the conversation to the mundane sublime; food. Specifically, desserts.
"I haven't practiced much in the patisserie arts," He said, examining the macaron. "Savory is more my battlefield... Should I?"
Domino and Anna, knowing his preternatural skill in the kitchen, immediately encouraged him.
They launched into a detailed discussion of their favorite sweets; Anna leaning toward rich, Southern pecan pies and beignets, Domino preferring dark, complex chocolate tortes.
Adam mentioned a lovely, deranged recipe he'd seen on Pulse for a "Deconstructed Nietzschean Cheesecake that questions the nature of reality and your life choices with each bite."
The small talk was easy, peppered with Adam's unique cadence and unpredictable insanity that had infected Anna and Dom.
"A lovely oolong. Tastes like the whispered regrets of a Victorian ghost. Delightful."
"Do you guys think there is a god of cooking? What if we kidnapped them? A bunch of them, if there are more.
"Sounds good. We can add it to our bullet list, but how do we find gods if they exist?"
"Adam can just work his magic and create a god finder. Should be possible, no?"
"Makes sense, but is there like a god of mutants? If there is, we can dissect him for doing a bad job. Speaking of which, Adam, do u wanna be a god?"
"Sure, why not, though I would much prefer being a mechanical/tech god, sounds more to my muse. Plus, my imaginary friends want me to create irl transformers and some other mechanical entities."
"Mechanical entities? That sounds perverted. Are your imaginary friends leading u astray again? Making u do perverted stuff like creating some hot robot?"
"She nailed it, hasn't she?"
"Amm, yeah... It's definitely all their fault, leading me astray. They've been begging me to create Android 18, and to be fair, that would be good publicity for Cypher."
"Now I'm starting to think it's your idea."
"What? It's not. They're just unhinged. Just last week, they were pushing me to try BDSM shit. They know no fucking bounds."
"Sounds interesting, actually."
"Eh? What?"
Emma Frost watched him with a look of rapt, covetous calculation that soon turned into speechlessness as she listened to their conversation. What the fuck are they talking about?
[He just sat in the White King's chair like it's his living room recliner.]
[Slander! He's the fucking pervert, not us!]
[To be fair, we're perverts too.]
[Wait wtf! Now not only is he blaming Hydra and Mephisto, but he's also blaming us!?]
[This man has no fucking shame!!]
['Sounds interesting' WTF Rogue!? She's fallen!]
[U bneen livning in cave? She fallen lonng ago.]
[...]
[Emma is totally plotting how to keep him.]
The pleasant, dessert-laced atmosphere didn't so much shatter as it simply evaporated.
Adam stopped mid-sentence, his bullshit anecdote about a sentient sourdough starter he'd once tamed trailing off.
A slow, eerie smile spread across his face, one that Domino recognized instantly. It was the calm before the creative storm, the precursor to glorious, unpredictable chaos.
"Excuse me for a moment," He said, his voice light. "A very important call."
He raised his cybernetic left arm, the polished titanium gleaming under the chandelier light.
With a deft motion of his right hand, he pulled back the cuff of his suit jacket and shirt.
A seam on the forearm hissed open, and a compact emitter activated. A shimmering, perfectly rectangular screen of hard light projected into the air before him.
It resolved into the unmistakable, grim visage of Nick Fury, framed against the sterile grey of SHIELD command center. A tiny lens on Adam's wrist provided Fury with a reciprocal view.
One of the many reasons Adam had wanted the cybernetic limb: infinite utility, a walking tech suite.
He'd been expecting this call. He was honestly surprised it had taken this long.
Nick Fury was an old, experienced snake. He hadn't reacted with immediate, spitting rage to Adam's global data-dump.
He'd analyzed. He'd watched the world burn and studied the arsonist's technique.
His conclusion was stark; Adam Cypher wasn't just dangerous because of his powers or his tech. He was dangerous because of his mind.
His charisma was a weapon, his unpredictability a strategic nightmare, and his willingness to reshape reality on a live broadcast made him a threat of a different magnitude.
Fury feared raw power less than he feared a brilliant, charismatic mind with no regard for the rulebook. So, he changed his approach.
"Cypher," Fury's voice was gravel, but controlled. "Before you start with the jokes, take a look at the file I just sent you."
He didn't need to ask. Adam's Technopathy had already interfaced with the secure data packet. The title glowed in his mind... AVENGERS INITIATIVE.
It was extensive. A formal proposal. The stated goal; a coalition of remarkable individuals to address threats beyond the scope of conventional forces.
The benefits were laid out with bureaucratic precision; Access to S.H.I.E.L.D. Resources and Cutting-Edge Technology.
Generous Paid Employment with Full Medical, Dental, and Life Insurance. Legal Protection and Global Intelligence Support.
The demands were simpler, broader; Availability for deployment against existential and supernatural threats.
[Tf? The Avengers are already happening, and Adam is invited?]
[Fury's trying to recruit Adam! This is huge!]
[Fury crazy? Wtf? Why invite a trouble magnet to the party?]
[What kind of plot is he cooking against Adam?]
[True true, it must be a conspiracy!]
Adam raised an eyebrow, a soft "Interesting" escaping his lips. He met Fury's single-eyed gaze through the screen.
"Finally, Nick. We can work together without the snakey bullshit." He paused, his smile sharpening.
"Well, it's still bullshit. We both know we can never trust each other. But I like the sound of that dental plan."
Fury's expression didn't change. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
Adam was an asset of incalculable value and a threat of equal measure. This was containment through incorporation.
Most importantly, the higher-ups were pushing for including Adam in the initiative to keep him under control.
"I'll join," Adam said breezily, then immediately launched into a list of demands that would make a union negotiator blush.
Exemptions from certain oversight protocols. Certain privileges for Cypher Corp. Information privileges and certain freedoms of action against hostile parties.
Finally, something they can both agree on, a dedicated, joint anti-Hydra task force with Cypher co-leadership.
Fury's jaw still tightened, a vein throbbing at his temple, but he didn't argue for now. The negotiations are usually left to lawyers to draw up a complete agreement.
"Fine. But I have questions. And I need answers." He manipulated something off-screen, connecting a third party whom he introduced, "This is Alexander Pierce, Undersecretary of the World Security Council."
The screen split. A new face appeared; older, with a statesman's calm and sharp, intelligent eyes. Alexander Pierce.
"Mr. Cypher," He said, his voice polished. "The Council is very interested in what you have to say."