[ADAM] Chapter 21: You're Late

No one from the Red team moved.

Despite Adam facing the Blue team alone, no one from his team moved.

But not because they were frozen in place by fear, but because Adam ordered them not to fight.

Even Grace, fully wanting to, didn't follow. She clutched Samantha's shoulders, watching Adam walk alone toward the crystal.

The burden of what needed to be done—he'd claimed it entirely for himself. Grace wanted to share it with her, to fight alongside him now, at least for her daughter.

But Adam shook his head, as if telling her that her hands should only be for protecting her daughter, and her alone.

Just what sort of man was Adam, really?

Grace knew almost nothing about him, but she knew enough. She knew that Adam could have killed his way through this entire Game.

She knew that Adam was a tortured soul, and perhaps out of all of them, had the most right to be a monster.

But he wasn't.

Why? Why did she have to meet him in this sort of circumstance?

Her thoughts trailed, but soon, even that was overshadowed by the silhouette of the people blocking Adam's path, their backs showered by the soft light of the blue crystal behind them.

Still, Adam marched.

And after much hesitation from the Blue team, a man rushed forward, a metal pipe raised high. "We… we warned you!"

Adam didn't dodge, because he knew he deserved whatever pain was coming his way. He just let the pipe connect with his shoulder, letting out a sickening crack that made Grace wince. She also covered Samantha's ears, but the little girl no longer shied away from the violence.

The same couldn't be said of the Blue creep who attacked Adam.

"W...what?" he stammered, staring at Adam, who remained standing.

Adam looked at him with tired and pained eyes, then struck—one clean hit to the liver. As the man folded, Adam also caught him, lowering him gently to the concrete.

"You... you don't have to do this!" A woman screamed, charging with three others.

Their weapons found Adam's back, his legs, his arms. Each blow landed with a dull thud. He absorbed the pain, relished in it. Letting it wash through him without resistance.

It hurts. It hurts so much. But I deserve this… I deserve this.

He moved forward like someone walking through deep water—slow but unstoppable. His punches weren't elegant, but they landed exactly where he aimed. The first attacker dropped when Adam's fist connected with his chin. The second crumpled from a liver shot.

He knew exactly where to hit them and how much force he needed. If there was something that Adam could confidently claim, it would be the fact that he had mastered human anatomy.

The Hospital experimented on every corner of his body, after all.

With each strike, memories flickered behind Adam's eyes. Cold metal tables. Bright lights. Masked faces. The burn of a scalpel opening his skin. The sting of needles. The raw agony of being submerged until his lungs screamed. His eyes melting.

"Please stop," a young man begged, backing away. "We have families—"

Adam's fist caught his chin before he could finish his words. The young man's eyes rolled back as he slumped to the ground.

Adam continued to march, and a long trail of unconscious bodies marked his path toward the crystal. He had already hurt so many, but it felt like he was still so far away.

Once again, people blocked his path.

"Monster," someone whispered.

Adam paused, the word cutting deeper than any blade. He looked back at the people he'd left breathing but broken on the ground.

"I know," he said, "I want to stop. I really do."

But he couldn't. The only thing he could do was move forward…forward.

Forward—until, that is, he felt someone grab him by the legs.

He thought it was someone he knocked out at first, but when he looked, it was the children.

"S…stop it! Please!" they cried, "Stop hurting… stop hurting each other!"

He looked at them, and all he could see was Samantha. Their small hands clutched at his bloodied clothes, their faces streaked with dirt and tears. Some wore oversized shirts that hung to their knees. Others had shoes with holes. Their eyes—wide, frightened, pleading—reflected the pulsing light of the crystal.

Why do they have to suffer like this? They don't need to, Adam. Just end their suffering, one single flick, and they would be free…unlike you.

Adam shook his head off the thoughts before crouching down. And then, with his teeth gritted and a small, desperate wince forming on his face, he punched the children on the stomach one by one, knocking them out too.

He was careful, very careful. Each strike just enough—enough force to render unconscious, not enough to damage. The children's bodies went limp against him, their faces relaxing into something almost peaceful. The sound of their bodies hitting the ground made his stomach turn.

He glanced at Grace, quietly gesturing to her to take the children away. And she did, she rushed toward him and immediately cradled the children to her side. Samantha rushed too, crying.

"Wha—" Samantha was trying to say something, but she choked on her words, snot running down her nose.

Grace wanted to cry too, to wail. But she didn't—she was tired of crying. Her hands trembled as she gathered the small bodies, arranging them in a row against a nearby wall. The concrete was cold against her knees.

She was making sure they were comfortable, and that they would see each other as soon as they woke up.

Adam continued forward to the crystal, and when he saw creeps still guarding it, he shook his head and said,

"Please… move."

You truly are a hypocrite, Adam. His mind once again whispered.

The blue creeps, of course, did not move. Their faces hardened, weapons raised. A woman with a scar across her cheek spat at his feet. A man with only one arm tightened his grip on a rusted pipe.

But this time, Adam finally rushed toward them—but not to attack, he only pushed them away with all of his strength before going straight for the crystal and punching it.

The impact shot pain up his arm. His knuckles split open, blood smearing across the crystal's surface. And then, the pillar of light surrounding the crystal rippled and danced.

Adam roared, and he punched the crystal again with his bare hands. The sound was wet, meaty—bone meeting unyielding surface. Chunks of skin tore away.

The creeps he pushed away rushed toward him, grabbing him by the arms. They also screamed, begging him to stop. But Adam just roared, his howls almost a cry for help too. The sound bounced off concrete walls, raw and animal-like.

He pushed them away again and punched the crystal, and the light rippled once more. The damage he was doing was minimal, however. But still, he continued—Paik already damaged it, he only needed to finish it.

"No!" The Blue creeps also gave out a cry of their own as they managed to get a hold of Adam again—and this time, they were able to pull him back.

His feet slid, and the crystal became farther and farther away again. The Blue creeps wanted to pin him on the ground, but Adam pushed forward even with all the weight.

But then… he tripped.

On a pebble. So small.

His body fell forward, and the collective weight of the enemy crashed down on him, literally. His head smacked the concrete with a hollow thud that sent dust rippling around his face. The impact pierced through his skull, instantly turning his vision dark and messy.

He wheezed, each breath pushing small clouds of consciousness away from him. The taste of blood drowned his throat.

Someone's knee dug into his spine—something cracked. A boot connected with his ribs. Another stomped on his hand, grinding his flesh and shattered bones against concrete.

Adam didn't care.

The crystal stood just feet away, he could almost reach it again. He watched it shimmer through the forest of legs surrounding him. He stretched his mangled hand out, and he began to drag himself forward; the sound of his fingernails scratching the concrete hissed.

The voices above him blended together into meaningless noise. Someone was crying. Someone else was cursing. It didn't matter.

Adam pulled himself forward.

But soon, darkness crept into his eyes. Slowly, and slowly…he felt his consciousness being taken away. His eyelids grew heavy, and his breath turned into a low hum.

Perhaps—this is enough. You've done enough, Adam. This time, you didn't run away. You did it.

It's time to stop fighting. Just… surrender and let the darkness take you—you're still going to wake up, just rest. But if you're lucky, then maybe you'll never wake up again.

His own voice whispering in his head now sounded like a lullaby, and slowly, he found himself listening.

And with a soft, fading breath, he closed his eyes.

But then—

[Your team's Middle Crystal has been destroyed! Deploying allied Inner Crystal troops in one minute! Help them! Enemy Heroes fast approaching!]

The Administrator's voice cut his eyes open, the darkness fading away like ink in the ocean.

The Middle Crystal? What about the Outer Crystal?

He hadn't even heard it fall. Was the Duelist of Rose moving that fast?

Adam's chest cracked as he wheezed. Blood bubbled between his lips.

And then, with a roar so loud, the blood showered from his mouth and the very ground around him seemed to shake.

The sound wasn't human—it was primal, the cry of something that refused to die.

His bones cracked as he pushed himself up against the weight of his attackers. Their bodies shifted and slid off him as he rose to his knees, then to his feet. He roared again, louder this time, wilder.

He pushed the Blue creeps away, causing them to stumble back. Adam did not waste any time and marched toward the crystal once more, each step almost leaving a bloody footprint.

The Blue creeps, of course, only let him take one more step before rushing at him again. Their hands grabbed at his clothes, his arms, his hair. Fingers dug into half-healed wounds, tearing them open again. They pulled at him, trying to drag him down.

Adam pushed forward, straining against their collective strength. The crystal was once again so close now—its surface gleaming, almost within reach.

Someone hooked their foot around his ankle. Adam felt himself falling again, but this time he was close enough.

He lunged forward to the crystal as he went down, pushing himself.

His head slammed directly into the crystal's surface with a sickening crack. Stars exploded behind his eyes. The impact vibrated through his skull and down his spine.

A small wince escaped his lips, and he stared at whatever part of his face he could stare at from his reflection on the Blue crystal.

And he saw himself, desperate—but now fighting for something.

"Raah!" Adam roared again, and he leaned his head away before smacking his forehead on the crystal.

The creeps were shocked at this, terrified even, But they grabbed his head to stop him. But Adam shook his head wildly and once again slammed it on the crystal.

He was almost feral now. He is feral.

"S…stop it! You're going to kill yourself!" one of the Blue creeps pleaded, but Adam only responded with a growl.

He slammed his head again, and again. Blood violently streaked down his face, painting the blue crystal's surface with crimson smears. The sound—wet, hollow thuds—made even the hardened creeps flinch.

It was as if his head was empty and mushed, and perhaps it was with the way he now looked.

Adam's eyes had gone wild, unfocused, like something… ancient had awakened inside him.

But then, someone suddenly grabbed his forehead, blocking it from meeting the crystal. A massive hand, steady, rough… explosive.

A Hero, perhaps?

But Adam didn't care. He shook wildly again, biting the large hand.

It felt like biting concrete, and his teeth quickly bled.

But then, another hand moved toward him—but instead of attacking him, the hand gently rested on his shoulder and removed the other hands gripping him.

Adam finally turned his eyes to the owner of the hand.

And it was Bjorn.

"You…" Adam whispered,

"You're late."

***

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AUTHOR NOTES

If you haven't noticed already, Adam's very much a wolverine lol.