The absolute silence of his apartment was a stark, welcome contrast to the blinding camera flashes and deafening chaos of the Stark Industries press room.
He locked the heavy wooden door behind him, the satisfying click of the deadbolt echoing softly in the entryway. Slowly, methodically, Adam began to strip away his corporate persona. He unfastened his watch, loosened his silk tie, and unbuttoned his suit jacket, draping it neatly over the back of a chair.
After a quick shower to wash away the sweat and grime, he changed into a simple, loose-fitting grey cotton shirt and comfortable lounge trousers.
Barefoot, Adam walked into the dimly lit living room and sank onto the plush cushions of his sofa. He didn't turn on the television, nor did he reach for a book. He simply sat in the quiet, his mind perfectly still, dissecting the variables of the last twenty-four hours like a theater critic reviewing a play. Slowly, his thumb traced the edge of the matte-black ring on his left middle finger.
The stage of Los Angeles had shifted drastically. Obadiah Stane, a major piece on the board, had been violently removed. The Iron Monger was reduced to classified SHIELD wreckage. And Tony Stark… Well, Tony was being Tony.
Adam's lips twitched upward in a small, genuine smile. Watching Tony declare, "I am Iron Man" hadn't just won him ten dollars from Agent Coulson; it signaled the curtain falling on his act.
The brutal, unfiltered conflict between Tony and Obadiah the night before had provided the final, necessary catalyst for his spirituality. By observing the start of the world's shifting fate, the raw clash of ideals, Adam had fully digested the Sequence 9 potion.
He could feel it in his blood. There was no more resistance, no more lingering spiritual pressure. The vessel was empty.
Still twisting the matte-black ring on his finger, Adam simply closed his eyes, reached into the depths of his own spirituality, and willed himself to advance.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Deep within his biology, his X-Gene flared to life, acting as the perfect, evolutionary doorway between him and the Visionary powers. It seamlessly pulled the ancient, cosmic laws of the Visionary pathway into existence out of thin air, weaving the conceptual energy of Sequence 8 into his brain structure.
There was no pain, no threat of madness. The transition was flawlessly, terrifyingly smooth.
When Adam opened his eyes a moment later, the world had fundamentally changed.
His physical vision was startlingly sharp—he could see the microscopic dust motes floating in the air across the room and the faint, imperceptible hairline fractures in the paint on his ceiling. But layered perfectly over the physical world was the spiritual one.
To test his new boundaries, Adam stood from the sofa and walked over to his living room window, pulling the blinds back just a fraction to look down at the street below.
The late-night sidewalk was mostly empty, save for a lone pedestrian walking their dog under the glow of a streetlamp, roughly fifteen meters away.
As Adam's enhanced vision locked onto the man, the physical details peeled back. He saw the faint, dull grey of the man's Ether Body, and then, a voice surfaced in his mind. It wasn't an auditory sound, but a distinct, superficial thought.
'...keys, phone, wallet...'
Through their brief visual connection, Adam felt the rhythm of the man's mental checklist falter. A missing physical weight. His telepathy effortlessly traced the man's shifting focus—the sudden memory of a wallet that was left at home, immediately followed by the bleak, frustrating realization that he would have to make a trip back to pick it up.
Adam let the blinds fall shut, breaking the line of sight.
Instantly, the man's thoughts vanished from his mind, leaving the apartment in absolute, peaceful silence once more. He had complete, effortless control over the input. But his telepathy wasn't the only thing that had evolved; his grasp of physical and spiritual cues had upgraded into something frighteningly absolute. Not only could he read the shifting colors of someone's Ether Body as easily as a billboard, but his mind now instinctively calculated the perfect, most socially appropriate emotional reaction for any given scenario.
Combined with the cold, absolute detachment he retained from Sequence 9, Adam realized he could weep hysterically at a funeral while feeling absolutely nothing inside.
He walked back to the sofa, a profound sense of calm washing over him. Sitting down, he thought about what to do next now that he had advanced.
'I should still stick with Tony. I'm currently not strong enough to survive in this world all on my own for now,' Adam thought. 'How am I going to act for Sequence 8? Is it as simple as using my abilities, or is there something more to it?'
Adam continued thinking late into the night. Eventually, sleep overtook him, and he drifted off on the sofa.
Adam opened his eyes and found himself on a white-sand beach; in front of him was an ocean with dark tides swelling without any wind.
"Congratulations, you have taken your first step in this world," came the same voice that had warned him previously.
Adam turned and found himself face-to-face with the same person covered in blinding light.
"What am I doing here again? And who are you?" Adam asked the person, who just chuckled at his question.
"Well, for your first question, I called you here to congratulate you on advancing to Sequence 8. It took you some time, more than I would have liked, but you did it nevertheless. As for your second question, I told you before that you would find out, no?" The figure replied in a jovial tone.
Adam frowned at the answer.
"My first step? Was it not my first step when I became a Sequence 9: Spectator?" Adam questioned.
"No, that was your tutorial, if we use the gaming word. Now, from here on out, you truly step into the real world," the figure replied seriously, then switched to a teasing tone. "You know, because of you, someone got really, really scared."
Adam was baffled. "Scared? And because of me?"
"Yes, but don't worry, you will not face any problem from that person, at least not yet anyway. By the way, this will be our last meeting for some time. Grow stronger fast, Adam. You have some really good advantages that people from that cursed world would kill to have." With that said, the figure waved his hand, and Adam vanished from his place.
The figure seemed to be lost in his thoughts when he suddenly shivered.
'I'd better go before she wakes up. All this power at my fingertips, and I am still scared of her.' The figure thought bitterly before he vanished, and the place cracked as if a mirror and shattered into nothingness.
***
Author's Note: Hey guys! I have some troubling news to share: I have been cursed with the disease known as Dengue Fever, and my doctor has advised me to rest, including some time off from the screen. So, for some time, I may or may not be able to post the chapters. Sorry!
P. S. I was thinking of a Timeskip to Iron Man 2. I would explain everything that happened in between, but it would be a summary, because honestly, I have currently no idea about what to write for Adam, seeing as my job demands most of my time, and now this Fever. So comment what is on your mind, and should I do the timeskip or not?
P.S.S. This fic is not abandoned. Toodles.