Adam was at the bottom of the pond, his body slowly regenerating.
Thin, white filaments stretched out, weaving together to form bones.
They were soon followed by red, thread-like fibers that began knitting into flesh and skin.
His skull, however, was gone—completely obliterated. The regeneration process had to start from the neck up.
Thin, white filaments emerged from the bones like pale worms, fusing and stretching to form the upper part of the neck, then the jawbone, continuing their work on the rest of the skull.
All the while, the red fibers were weaving a layer of muscle, nerves, and veins over it, which deepened in color as they finished.
The eyes took shape from a tangle of nerves that were then coated in a gel-like, whitish substance. They rounded out, and the black irises appeared, followed by the pupils.
Once the head was fully sheathed in skin, hair sprouted from it, a mix of stark white and jet black. His hands were now complete, and so were his feet. His body was whole again, restored to its natural form, and Adam was fully conscious.
The yellow liquid from the pond forced its way into Adam's mouth and nose, settling deep within his stomach and lungs.
He choked violently, gagging on the fluid. Thrashing at the bottom, he struggled to pull himself out of the pool. Adam wished for death, but he wanted it to be quick and painless.
With every passing moment, his body grew heavier and more exhausted, his movements slowing down as well.
Adam crawled out of the pond and vomited the large amount of liquid that had filled his stomach. The strong-smelling fluid gushed from his mouth, nose, and ears.
He dragged himself across the ground, putting distance between himself and the pool. Once he was far enough away, he collapsed onto his back and stared up at the sky.
Adam remained sprawled on the ground, utterly motionless. He was incapable of moving.
Even if enemies were to surround him, he wouldn't be able to so much as flinch. It was completely beyond his control. This was the critical weakness of his immortality.
As Adam lay there, he tried to recall the last thing that had happened, to pinpoint his exact situation and where he was now.
He closed those tired, emotionless eyes. The face that had remained frozen at the age of twenty—the only thing that had changed about his appearance was his hair, now a mix of black and white. And indeed, Adam slowly began to remember.
The last place he remembered was a bomb-proof glass chamber. It was like a lab cage designed for test subjects, only larger, with a stark white floor and bright lighting.
It contained a metal cot, a toilet, and a washbasin. The door was also made of reinforced, blast-proof metal, with a small opening at the bottom for daily meals to be passed through.
Despite all these fortifications, Adam, with his immense strength, was capable of shattering it all and blasting through the glass. But he didn't. On the contrary, he was the one who had surrendered, giving them free rein to do whatever they wanted with him. His final request had been for them to end his life, if they even could.
And so, the years passed with Adam confined inside that isolated glass room. He only ever left it for tests and experiments, which always led to the same outcome: failure.
They tried everything with him. They tried science, and it didn't work. They tried spiritual methods, and that didn't work either.
They experimented with countless approaches to understand Adam's regenerative ability—to create a weakness for him, or to harness the regeneration for their own benefit. But it was useless.
They thought about burning him and being done with it, but it didn't work.
Blowing him up, shattering him, dismembering him, freezing him, even releasing predators to devour him and digest every piece in their stomachs... but nothing ever succeeded. He always came back.
But in the end, they arrived at the same conclusion Adam had reached over his centuries of immortality: the ability was limitless. It might slow down, but it never stopped.
Its fuel, it seemed, was food containing protein or other bodily nutrients, or through long periods of rest that allowed his body to recharge itself.
Some even theorized that his restoration might draw from a hidden energy source, like aether or mana, similar to others.
After many years had passed, Adam awoke one day to find all the doctors and scientists responsible for his case running frantically through the facility.
They were terrified, frightened of something. He could see them screaming at each other, but from inside the soundproof room, he couldn't hear a thing
Some were on the floor, crying hysterically. Others, it seemed, were frantically talking on phones, their eyes filled with tears, even fighting over them.
A few appeared to be lost in prayer, while up on the upper platform where the computers were stationed, a group was staring at the screens in sheer terror.
Something was being displayed on those monitors—something that had reduced them to this state.
Adam didn't care about the chaos outside. He simply watched them from behind the soundproof glass. But then, a blinding white light suddenly flashed, and in the blink of an eye, everything exploded.
The room had shielded him from the worst of the blast, but it was ultimately destroyed. The light reached Adam, followed by the shockwave and fragments of the demolished chamber.
Shards of glass sliced through his body as the planet Earth exploded. The blast hurled rocks and the remnants of Adam—which continued to regenerate through space—out into the void.
His regeneration was indeed slow, and he was missing large pieces of himself, so it couldn't complete before his body completely froze solid. His remains drifted through space for what felt like an eternity.
Then, he fell here, to this planet. Adam hadn't been unconscious in space; he had been fighting to stay awake the entire time.
****
'damn... even that didn't kill me'
A few hours had passed since Adam had fallen from space onto this planet, and he still hadn't moved. He lay on the ground, staring at the sky. He couldn't even manage to turn his head. His body was shaking less now than before.
He pushed himself up, tried to stand, then collapsed again. He tried once more, but it was no use, so he just stayed seated on the ground. His vision was blurry; he couldn't see clearly. Using his thumb and forefinger, he rubbed his tired eyes.
He looked around and saw trees and plants. He was in a forest, one that closely resembled a tropical rainforest, but with a mix of gigantic trees and others of normal height. And there was something different about it.
When he focused his gaze intensely, he noticed that these trees had translucent parts extending from their roots all the way to their very tops.
He summoned the black screen to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, drugged, or in some hypnotic state.
The black screen was like an anchor of reality for him; for some reason, it didn't appear in his dreams or his own fantasies. No one could see it except him and His fictional characters
But that wasn't the case. So, this was real.
Several hours had passed since he had emerged from the pond, and he had gradually regained some of his energy.
He scanned his surroundings, found a long stick, and used it as a staff. Leaning on it heavily, he managed to stand up with difficulty to inspect the area.
Supporting his weight on his makeshift cane, he approached the pond he had been drowning in. It wasn't a large pond.
He knelt by the pond's edge, leaning forward. He scooped up some of the yellow water, which gave off a foul odor.
He paused for a few seconds, debating whether or not to drink it. Finally, he decided to take a sip. He swallowed the first mouthful, stopped, his face contorted into a grimace, and then he spat the yellow water out, recoiling backward.
A shadow passed over him. He looked up at the sky, where groups of birds were flying overhead. He couldn't see them clearly, but he could make out their silhouettes from below.
He stood up again, using his staff, and started walking in the same direction the flying creatures were flying. It reminded him of a time back on Earth, when he had fallen from an exploding plane into a tropical jungle.
His journey back took eight months. During that time, he learned a few things about surviving in the wild, including that birds need a constant water source and often don't stray far from it, making them a natural compass leading to water.
He continued on his way, naked, with no clothes or anything to cover himself. He didn't care; he also didn't have the energy to spare for that effort. He'd been called the "Naked Soldier" back in his army days, so he was used to this sort of thing.
He kept moving in a straight line. His eyes scanned the strange trees, occasionally glancing upward to check the flying creatures' direction, confirming they were still heading the same way.
He noticed footprints—massive ones, larger than an elephant's. He also spotted a second set of tracks, different from the first.
But none of this fazed him. He kept going, leaning on trees and his staff without a hint of caution.
He stumbled upon the corpse of a creature slightly larger than an elephant. Its body was stout, with six thick, stocky legs, and its light gray skin was dotted with grayish-green patches on its back. It had no fur or hair. A large, cone-shaped tail ended in a sealed opening.
Adam stood for a moment, scanning the area around the carcass before crouching down and leaning towards its head. He pried the mouth open, peered inside, and then straightened up.
He placed a hand on the creature's body, walked a full circle around it, his gaze fixed on the ground. He finally stopped in front of the creature's abdomen and laid his hand once more on the torn flesh there.
Adam fell silent, his eyes tracing the multitude of footprints surrounding the carcass.
'Predators?'
He scanned his surroundings.
'They're strong and clever.'
A theory was forming in his mind: this thing hadn't been hunted. It had died, and other creatures had taken advantage of the corpse.
Yet, there were clear signs of a struggle—a battle between this creature and the intelligent predators that had managed to kill such a heavily armored beast.
He needed to know what—or who—he was dealing with. Charging in blindly without intel wasn't his style; that kind of approach always led to bad endings.
He looked up at the sky; it was growing dark—night was almost upon him.
Adam stood before the creature's belly, used his staff to wipe away the tracks, then turned and retreated back the way he had come.
On his way back, he gathered every piece of wood and stick he found in his path. By the time he reached the pool, he had an armful. He piled the wood in a clearing, away from the trees, and began rubbing two sticks together.
It took him longer than he'd expected, but finally, a spark appeared. He leaned down to blow on it.
A small flame caught on a piece of wood. Adam carefully carried it over and set it on the woodpile he'd prepared.
The fire caught the wood, and then, suddenly—
His hand caught fire. The flames spread across his entire body in an instant. Adam shot to his feet.
"Aaaagh... Damn it!!"
He stifled his scream to avoid attracting predators, his eyes darting everywhere before locking onto the pool. He sprinted towards it and leaped.
But the moment the burning body touched the water, the pool exploded.
The blast hurled Adam backward into the nearest tree. His body hit the trunk with a sickening thud, slumped to the ground, and he lost consciousness, his body still burning.