The portal spat Adam out onto a frost-covered battlefield beneath a sky split with lightning. Snow crunched under his boots, the air thick with tension. Across the field, armored figures radiating icy dread materialized—the generals of the Wild Hunt.
Adam sipped his coffee. Environment… hostile. Foes… armored. Potential… entertaining.
Before the generals could advance, a streak of light cut across the snow. A young woman with ashen hair, a scar across her cheek, and eyes blazing with determination appeared, sword at the ready. Ciri.
She froze when she spotted Adam standing casually with a steaming cup.
"Who… are you supposed to be?"
Adam bowed slightly. "Adam Thompson. Chaos. Correct."
Ciri blinked. "You don't even have a weapon."
Adam raised a finger. "Optional."
---
The Wild Hunt generals began their slow, menacing march. Frost spread with each step, ice crackling across the earth. Their leader growled, "Hand over the girl. Or be annihilated."
Adam took a long sip. "Incorrect."
Ciri gave him a sidelong glance. "Do you… know what you're doing?"
Adam's coat swayed as he stepped forward. "Performance… mandatory."
---
The first general charged, massive axe swinging. Adam sidestepped casually, placed his hand on the man's shoulder, and redirected him straight into a jagged block of ice. The general's helmet dented like a tin can.
"Strike one," Adam muttered.
Ciri's eyes widened. "…Did you just call that bowling?"
"Correct."
The second general lunged with a spear. Adam snapped his fingers, kicked the frozen ground, and sent a chunk of ice skittering forward like a bowling ball. It slammed into the general's legs, toppling him backward into two others.
"Spare," Adam noted, sipping his coffee again.
Ciri covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. "You're insane."
"Correct."
---
The generals regrouped, growling in unison. Magic flared, icy winds whipping into a storm. One conjured a shard of frost the size of a cart and hurled it toward Adam and Ciri.
Adam crouched, then vaulted straight up, flipping midair with balletic grace. He landed lightly on top of the shard, rode it like a surfboard, and crashed it directly into three Wild Hunt warriors. The sound echoed like pins scattering in a strike.
Ciri doubled over laughing despite the danger. "You're treating the Wild Hunt like… like a tavern game!"
Adam's expression didn't change. "Correct."
---
Enraged, the leader roared and summoned a freezing wave. The snow surged forward, swallowing everything in its path. Ciri braced herself, sword glowing faintly with Elder Blood energy. But Adam… simply walked forward, calm as ever.
The wave slammed into him—then split cleanly down the middle, spraying harmlessly to either side. His coat didn't even ripple.
Ciri's jaw dropped. "How—?"
Adam raised his cup. "Optional."
The leader staggered back, unnerved. "Impossible…"
Adam pointed at him. "Final pin."
---
What followed looked less like a battle and more like a bizarre performance piece. Adam cartwheeled through spears, slapped helmets off with casual flicks, and redirected swings so generals clashed with each other. Every move sent them crashing into the snow like toppled bowling pins.
One general swung a sword the size of a door. Adam ducked, tapped his shin, and the armored titan collapsed like a felled tree.
"Split," Adam muttered, dragging him across the snow to knock into another.
Ciri clutched her stomach, tears of laughter freezing on her cheeks. "This is absurd! You're supposed to be fighting them, not… not… bowling them!"
Adam spun in place, coat flaring like a matador's cape. He slid forward on one knee, coffee still steady in his grip, and shoulder-checked the leader into a frozen pillar. The crash echoed like thunder.
"Strike," Adam whispered.
---
The battlefield grew eerily quiet. The Wild Hunt generals, once feared as death incarnate, now lay scattered across the snow like discarded toys, groaning under heaps of broken ice.
Ciri, still catching her breath from laughter, sheathed her sword. "You… you're not human, are you?"
Adam shrugged. "Optional."
She walked closer, studying him. "You don't fight like Geralt. Or Yen. Or anyone I've ever seen. You make the impossible look… easy. And ridiculous."
Adam nodded. "Correct."
For a moment, her fierce expression softened. "Thank you. You saved me. Though I think I'll be laughing about this until the end of time."
Adam bowed slightly. "Mandatory."
---
Before Ciri could say more, the portal shimmered open behind Adam. The snow swirled into its pull, the light calling him onward.
She frowned. "You're leaving already?"
Adam's voice was calm. "Next stage."
Ciri tilted her head, a rare smile tugging at her lips. "If I ever see you again, I want a rematch. No bowling this time."
Adam raised his cup in salute. "Incorrect."
And with that, he stepped into the light, vanishing once more—leaving behind a battlefield of toppled Wild Hunt generals, a laughing Child of Surprise, and the echo of pins scattering across eternity.