บท 47: chapter 47
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Adrian sat at the small table, absentmindedly pushing his half-empty coffee cup toward the edge. The coffee had long gone cold, but he barely noticed. Instead, he focused on a sleek black bag on the table, the one Fury had handed him just moments ago.
The table was quickly filled with boxes, all of them stamped with a shiny SHIELD logo in the center, stark against the dark leather surface.
"This is my gift to you," Fury had said.
Adrian pressed the handle, and the bag's lid sprang open to reveal a small screen with a login interface. He quickly typed in a long series of passwords, and with a satisfying click, the box unlocked. The lid lifted automatically, revealing a softly cushioned compartment with a small glass vial inside. The liquid in the vial was pale blue, shimmering like water, yet it held an almost glass-like texture. Every drop seemed to glow with pure, untapped energy.
This was no ordinary serum—it was the last remaining vial of a perfectly mixed super-soldier formula, Fury explained. Originally created using secret methods, it was safeguarded by Fury himself, awaiting a day when the world might be ready for it.
And yet, that day never came.
Fury had now chosen to entrust it to Adrian in exchange for his continued assistance with SHIELD. But Adrian could tell by Fury's expression that the agent felt indebted.
"This is something else," Adrian murmured, examining the vial. He found a small button near the top and realized it was a self-injector. Holding his breath, he pointed the tip toward his neck and pressed the button. The vial hissed softly, and a warm liquid surged into his veins.
Almost instantly, the warmth transformed into a burning heat, racing through his body until his heart seemed to beat with fiery energy.
"Hiss—" Adrian shot out of his chair, clutching the table to steady himself. His memories began to flood back in painful clarity—moments long forgotten, faces he hadn't seen in years. The overwhelming surge of memories brought a sharp, throbbing pain to his head, like a hot knife pressing into his skull.
He gritted his teeth, steadying himself on the table as the fiery energy surged through him. His grip tightened instinctively, and with a loud crack, he splintered the wood beneath his fingers, scattering bits of it to the floor.
Gradually, the pain faded, leaving him with a strange sense of balance, a renewed clarity. Adrian exhaled, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Phew...at least I didn't turn into some grotesque genius like Reed from the Ultimate Universe," he muttered to himself, thinking of the infamous version of Mr. Fantastic, whose brilliance had come at the cost of his humanity.
Still feeling a bit unsteady, Adrian pulled on the formal attire left for him by the staff of Castle Doom, then stepped outside.
The grand halls of Castle Doom were buzzing with life. Survivors of the recent catastrophe—passengers from the space fleet that had narrowly escaped disaster—filled the halls, laughter and conversation mingling with the clink of glasses. Waitstaff in crisp, black uniforms darted through the crowd, balancing trays of food and drink with calm precision, serving every guest with a warm smile.
Adrian's gaze swept the room, recognizing familiar faces scattered throughout the crowd: Hill, Coulson, Quicksilver, and of course, Tony Stark.
Tony spotted him at that moment, still clad in his signature red-and-gold armor, although his faceplate was retracted. Waving a glass of champagne in greeting, he grabbed a second glass from a passing server and made a beeline for Adrian.
"Hey, Adrian!" Tony greeted him, a grin lighting up his face. "So you decided to come to the party, huh?"
Adrian raised an eyebrow, accepting the glass. "Party?"
"Yep! Our good friend Doom mentioned he'd 'allow us some respite' or something along those lines. Guess he felt generous enough to host a feast for everyone who survived," Tony replied with a wink. "And I had an idea."
"Oh?" Adrian replied, curious.
Without warning, Tony threw an arm around Adrian's shoulder. The small jets on Tony's suit flared to life, lifting them both a few feet off the ground. People around them gasped and glanced up as Tony boosted them higher, finally stopping above the crowd.
With a dramatic flourish, Tony activated a loudspeaker in his armor and cleared his throat. The room hushed, all eyes turning toward them.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Tony's voice boomed across the hall. "I'd like to take this moment to introduce the man who saved us all—the man whose visions gave us a chance at survival, whose bravery led us to safety. Let's hear it for Adrian, the prophet of tomorrow!"
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, one by one, glasses rose in salute, and the hall erupted in cheers and applause.
"To Adrian! And to the future!" the crowd shouted in unison, lifting their glasses high.
The toast spread through the hall like wildfire, glasses clinking in celebration. Tony and Adrian gently descended to the floor, and Adrian, with a smile, raised his own glass to his lips, taking a long, satisfying sip of champagne.
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