Chapter 7: The Unsettling Truth and the Conditional Alliance
The silence in the abandoned warehouse was heavy, broken only by the distant hum of Adam's cobbled-together server. Fitz and Simmons sat on overturned crates, their faces a mixture of exhaustion, confusion, and a burgeoning sense of awe. Adam had brought them here with his vanishing trick, a move that had left Fitz sputtering about quantum entanglement and Simmons quietly hyperventilating about perceived reality.
"Alright, settle in, kids," Adam said, leaning against a reinforced pillar, a casual smirk on his face. "No, I'm not a mutant, or an Inhuman, or a rogue Asgardian. Though, honestly, I'd kill for Thor's hair. Mine gets frizzy in this humidity."
Fitz, ever the logical one, immediately launched into a barrage of questions. "But the laws of physics! The space-time continuum! How can you know this? Are you a mutant? An Inhuman? An advanced A.I.? Your energy signature, it's… it's like nothing I've ever seen! It changes, adapts, perfectly counters! It's impossible!" He was practically vibrating with intellectual frustration and excitement, his hands flailing as he tried to grasp the incomprehensible.
Simmons, while equally baffled, approached it from a different angle. Her brow was furrowed, her gaze intense. "To know the future… is that a burden or a power? Do we have the right to interfere? What are the consequences of changing what is meant to be? And your abilities… they defy every biological and physical principle we know. How do you do it? What are you?" Her moral compass was spinning wildly, trying to reconcile the impossible with her ethical framework.
Adam held up a hand. "Whoa, whoa, easy there, science squad. One existential crisis at a time. And no, I'm not an A.I., thank God. I have enough voices in my head. The short version? I died. Choking on a hot dog, ironically. Then I woke up here, in the middle of the Battle of New York, with this… thing." He tapped his temple. "The 'Adapt System.' It's less a power, more a cosmic cheat code. It makes my body adapt to anything, instantly. Any skill, any strength, any power I see, I master it. And in combat, I get double my opponent's strength. It's why I could punch the Hulk and not turn into a fine red mist."
He paused, letting that sink in. Fitz's eyes widened further. Simmons gasped, a small, scientific sound of wonder and horror.
"And the future part?" Simmons asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"Ah, yes, the fun part. I'm from… another dimension. Where your lives, your universe, are fictional stories. Movies, TV shows. I know it all. Every major event, every character arc, every villain, every tragedy. From the moment Tony Stark built his first suit to… well, let's just say it gets pretty dark before it gets better. Like, half-the-universe-disappears dark." Adam watched their faces, the dawning horror, the disbelief. He knew this was a lot. But it was necessary.
"Fictional… stories?" Fitz repeated, his voice cracking slightly. "You mean… our lives are… a narrative?"
"More like a very detailed documentary series that I've binge-watched," Adam corrected. "And because I know what's coming, I have a chance to… tweak things. Prevent some of the really nasty bits. Save some people who shouldn't have to die. And that, my friends, is where you come in."
He then produced them. From a small, seemingly empty satchel he'd had strapped to his side, he pulled out two strange, swirling fruits. One, a vibrant, swirling purple, like a nebula trapped in an orb. The other, a deep, earthy brown, intricately carved with swirling patterns, emanating a faint, warm glow. The Room-Room Fruit and the Heal-Heal Fruit. They pulsed with an otherworldly energy, a silent testament to their impossible nature.
"These are Devil Fruits," Adam explained, holding them out. "From another 'fictional story' in my old world. They grant incredible powers. The purple one, the Room-Room Fruit, will let you, Fitz, create a spherical 'Room' where you can manipulate anything inside – space, objects, even people. Think surgical precision, teleportation, containment. Perfect for an engineer who likes to build and dismantle. And this one," he held up the brown fruit, "the Heal-Heal Fruit, for you, Simmons. It grants the power to heal any injury, any disease, instantly. Even transfer wounds. It's… compassionate. Like you."
Fitz stared at the Room-Room Fruit, his eyes wide, a mixture of fear and pure, unadulterated scientific lust. "Spatial manipulation? A localized reality distortion field? The implications… the applications… it's… it's beautiful!"
Simmons, however, looked at the Heal-Heal Fruit with a more somber expression. "To wield such power… to heal any wound… the responsibility. And to transfer wounds? That's a dangerous ability. What if it falls into the wrong hands? What if we are the wrong hands?"
"That's why I'm giving them to you two," Adam said, his voice dropping, losing some of its sarcasm. "Because I know you. I know your integrity, your brilliance, your compassion. You two are the best of S.H.I.E.L.D., the best of humanity. And I can't use these myself. The System won't let me. They're meant for others. For you. But there's a catch. Always a catch."
He paused, letting the tension build. "This isn't a free ride. This is a conditional alliance. My primary mission, the one that drives everything, is to find someone. Yelena Belova. A Black Widow. She's out there somewhere, likely still under the thumb of a very nasty organization. I need your help. Your S.H.I.E.L.D. resources, your intelligence, your scientific minds to track her down. If you help me find her, if you prove your loyalty and commitment to this… new path, then these fruits are yours. And we become the 'Adapt-Alliance,' a force dedicated to fixing the universe, one catastrophe at a time. Starting with Thanos, who, trust me, is a much bigger problem than Hydra."
Fitz and Simmons exchanged a look. A long, silent conversation passed between them, a lifetime of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. Then, Fitz turned back to Adam, his eyes still wide, but now with a spark of determination. "To know the future… to have the power to change it… it's a terrifying proposition. But to do nothing, knowing what you know… that would be unconscionable. We'll help you find her. But… you have to promise us, Adam. No unnecessary risks. No playing God without a very, very good reason."
Simmons nodded, her gaze firm. "And we need to understand this 'System' of yours. Scientifically. Ethically. We need to know the full implications of what you're asking us to do."
Adam grinned, a genuine, relieved smile. "Deal. No unnecessary risks, unless it's absolutely necessary. And I'll explain everything I can, within reason. Welcome to the Adapt-Alliance, kids. Your lives just got a whole lot weirder. And trust me, that's saying something, considering you work for S.H.I.E.L.D."