Adam : From a man to a God

Tilda slowly lowered Adam and Eddie onto the tile floor, her heart sinking at the sight before her. Eddie was a vision of devastation, covered in bruises and teetering on the brink of death. Blood seeped from various wounds, painting his skin a deep crimson. His T-shirt bore a gaping hole in the chest area, yet miraculously, he didn’t appear to have a puncture wound beneath it. Blood trickled from his closed eyes and pooled at the corners of his mouth, a haunting reminder of his struggle.

His right arm and leg lay in unnatural positions—fractured and twisted—while his healing abilities seemed to have faded entirely. Each shallow breath he took echoed the pain he was enduring.

In stark contrast, Adam looked fine. Not a single scratch marred his body, though his clothes were tattered and ruined. Tilda could still hear the echo of Adam’s pained cries, a desperate sound that had pierced her heart before he lost consciousness. The memory of his anguish lingered, making her chest tighten with worry and confusion.

Tilda placed her hands gently over Eddie's chest, feeling the warm energy swell within her as it began to glow a brilliant golden hue. As her energy flowed into him, she was immediately hit by the severity of his injuries. The extent of the damage was far worse than she had imagined, shock coursing through her as she felt the remnants of destruction inside Eddie's body.

She could sense that his insides had been shredded, not from external wounds but from the overwhelming force of Adam’s punch. The blow had been infused with vibrant energy that had shattered Eddie's internal structure, causing his ribcage to feel like it had been crushed and mangled.

As her energy streamed into his abdomen, Tilda felt an intense pull, almost like a vacuum, drawing her power further into his body. It was as if she were not simply healing wounds but reconstructing his very essence. The process was daunting—she could feel the delicate balance of his insides being pieced back together, the energy flowing to mend the shredded flesh as if she were meticulously stitching his body back into a semblance of normalcy.

The golden glow enveloped Eddie, illuminating the room with a warm light, but Tilda remained focused, allowing the flow of her energy to guide the reconstruction effort. Each pulse of energy felt monumental, and she sensed Eddie's body responding, the shattered remnants slowly rebuilding under her hands. As Tilda's energy flowed into Eddie, she watched in awe as his leg and arm snapped back into place, the wounds seamlessly closing, restoring his body to a state that looked healthy and whole. Yet, despite the transformation, he remained unconscious, a mix of relief and concern washing over her. Tilda let out a shaky sigh, her hands gradually stopping their glow.

Turning her attention to Adam, she saw he didn’t appear injured on the outside, but her instincts told her something was amiss. There was a tension in his posture, a quiet pain lurking just beneath the surface. She approached him carefully, gently placing her hands on his chest, feeling his warmth and the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat.

As her hands began to glow golden once more, she grit her teeth, bracing herself for what she might find. The energy surged between them, and she felt a strong pull as her essence started to absorb into Adam. Instantly, a wave of realization crashed over her; she sensed that the bones in his lower body were broken, the cracks spreading like dry branches in a drought.

Her heart sank as she absorbed this knowledge—outwardly, he looked unscathed, making it hard to fathom the pain he must be enduring. Tilda understood now why he had cried out in such agony; the internal damage was far more severe than she had anticipated.

With renewed determination, she focused her energy on mending his bones, channeling it toward the cracks she sensed. She felt the pressure build as his bones began to heal, the fractures slowly mending and eventually disappearing beneath her touch. As the golden glow enveloped him, she could feel the warmth of his body responding, each pulse heralding a gradual return to stability.

She continued to work, ensuring that every crack was addressed, letting the energy flow through her until his right hand healed as well. With a final surge of energy, Tilda felt Adam’s body respond—he was okay as well, though he remained unconscious. A wave of relief washed over her as she finally stood up, her muscles weary from the effort. She knelt down beside him, heart swelling with hope.

“Adam?” she gently called out, leaning closer. When there was no immediate response, she shook him lightly. “Adam?” she tried again, her voice steady yet filled with quiet urgency.

Slowly, Adam’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing bleary eyes that struggled to focus. At first, his vision was clouded, but gradually it cleared, and he found himself looking up at Tilda. Her blonde hair spilled gracefully to the side, framing her concerned face, and when their eyes locked, hers shimmered with a golden hue for a fleeting moment.

Tilda…?” Adam whispered, his voice barely audible, laced with confusion. He struggled to piece together the chaotic fragments of the recent past. “What happened?”

He attempted to sit up, but Tilda gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t try to move too much. I’m not sure if I’ve healed every part of you yet.”

“You healed me?” Adam asked, astonished, glancing at his right hand as if to confirm her words.

Tilda nodded, her brow furrowed slightly with concern. “Yes, but Adam, what happened? Why were you and Eddie fighting? How did you manage to destroy the barrier?”

“Wait, the barrier… it got destroyed?” Adam's brows knit together as memories began flooding back. “I remember hitting it, but…”

“When you shattered the barrier, you also obliterated the pocket dimension we were in.”

I did that? Adam said Starring at his right hand. “Yes but I managed to get you two outta their, if i hadn't you could have died.“ she said. Adam then turned his gaze to Eddie's unconscious body, frustration washing over him. “Damn it!” he exclaimed, pressing his hand against his forehead.

“Just tell me what happened,” Tilda urged, concern etched across her features.

“It was me this time,” Adam admitted, his voice trembling as he fought back tears. “I lost control. It wasn’t Ragnar.I couldn’t remember… I didn’t realize what I was doing. I almost killed him—my friend,” Adam admitted, his voice heavy with regret.

Tilda looked at him intently. “You didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“That’s just it,” Adam said, frustration bubbling up. “I wanted to hit him. I couldn’t hold myself back; I don’t know what came over me. I just—”

He was suddenly alarmed by Tilda’s warm hand clasping his. “You didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she repeated softly, her eyes searching his for understanding.

But just as quickly as she had taken his hand, she withdrew it as if startled by her own touch. “Oh… man, my head hurts,” came a groggy voice, pulling their attention.

“Eddie!” Adam exclaimed, rising to his feet in a rush. He reached out a hand to help his friend. “You’re alright.” Eddie’s expression softened as fragments of memory returned. He suddenly recalled Adam pushing him out of the way right before a devastating blow. A faint smile broke through the lingering confusion as he processed the close call. The gesture surprised Adam, who quickly grasped Eddie’s hand, pulling him up.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, shaking his head. “But what was that back there? You almost killed me.” He touched his T-shirt, noting the hole in the fabric.

“Huh? Tilda, you’re here?” he said suddenly, his eyes wide as he noticed her presence.

“You know her?” Adam inquired, his brow raised in surprise.

“I’ve only met her a few times. Mr. Kim mentioned her before,” Eddie explained, looking between them. “She’s the one who saved us.”

“Saved us?” Eddie echoed, confusion tinging his voice.

“Yes,” Adam confirmed, glancing at Tilda with appreciation. “When I broke the barrier—”

“Wait, you broke the barrier?” Eddie interjected, disbelief coloring his tone.

“Yeah, I did,” Adam admitted, his gaze dropping. “ When the barrier breaks, the space inside the dimension disappears. The entire dimension falls apart and vanishes, destroying everything within it. That would have included you if Tilda hadn’t stepped in to save you. It was only just a theory; I didn’t think it would ever happen,” Tilda said, replaying the scene in her mind, the chaotic moments before the barrier shattered still vivid.

“Were you the one who healed me?” Eddie asked, glancing at her with curiosity.

“Yes, I healed both of you as soon as I left the dimension,” Tilda confirmed, her expression earnest.

“I don’t know if I can thank you enough,” Eddie replied, appreciation flooding his voice.

Tilda’s brow furrowed slightly as she continued, “You never told me the reason you two were fighting.” A tense pause enveloped the atmosphere as Eddie and Adam looked down, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said softly, a hint of regret creeping into his tone.

“No, I’m actually the one who should be sorry,” Eddie interjected, his voice steady. “I let my anger get the best of me over something stupid. I got upset that you didn’t remember me, but honestly, it was the same for me at first. We were supposed to train, but it ended up turning into a fight because of my frustrations.”

He paused, taking a breath before revealing more. “You see, Adam here was my friend—he was more like a brother to me. We grew up in the same orphanage until he was adopted. “On the other hand, I wasn’t adopted,” Eddie continued, a touch of sadness creeping into his voice. “And after that, it becomes a long story from there. I just hated that he got the life he wanted while I had to struggle to do everything on my own.” A weak smile flickered across his face, hinting at the pain buried beneath his words.

“But I didn’t live the life I wanted,” Adam replied, a note of earnestness in his voice. “I told you that.”

“I know that now,” Eddie said, his tone lightening slightly as he looked at Adam. “Dude, you knocked that into me.”

A moment of silence hung between them, heavy with understanding. “I still really don’t know what happened,” Adam continued, his brow furrowed in thought. “All of a sudden, I felt this overwhelming amount of energy inside me. It was like I was possessed—I felt like fighting, like hitting something. That’s how I ended up destroying the barrier.”

“Yeah, dude, what the heck happened? Your bones were totally glowing! I could see them right through your skin,” Eddie exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and awe in his expression.

“Really?” Adam asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Yeah! I don’t think I’ve ever seen any flame power holder do that before.” Tilda chimed in, her voice filled with intrigue.

“Is it… is it because of the thing inside you? What’s it called? Ragnar?” Eddie asked, scratching his head in confusion.

“No, it wasn’t him. Or at least, I don’t think so,” Adam replied, frowning as he pondered the source of his overwhelming energy.

Tilda sighed, the weight of the situation settling in. “Since we can’t train here anymore, you two are going to have to train at my place.”

“I guess I can do that,” Adam said, relief washing over him at the prospect of continuing their training.

Eddie glanced toward the stairs, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “I still wonder what happened to the training room,” he mused, beginning to walk in that direction.

Tilda followed closely behind, and Adam trailed after her. Eddie opened the door, but instead of the familiar training room, They were met with a brisk rush of air, seeing the outside of the house. It was as if the room itself had disappeared completely.

Meanwhile, in DMR, high above the cityscape, a meeting was underway in the third skyscraper, its apex looming over the horizon. The meeting room in the skyscraper pulsed with an undercurrent of ambition, the sleek glass walls offering a panoramic view of the city below. At the head of the polished table sat Michael, his white hair gleaming under the ambient light, and a golden tie accentuating the sharp lines of his tailored suit. With a commanding presence, he set the tone for the gathering of power-hungry individuals poised to discuss their next steps.

To his left, Rune, a woman with striking green hair, leaned forward, her eyes sharp and attentive. Across from her sat Marcus, the brown-haired man whose demeanor was a curious blend of caution and pragmatism. Finally, Mira, the silver-haired woman, maintained a cool, detached poise, her demeanor enigmatic as they engaged in their conversation.

Michael began with a smooth, authoritative tone. “As you are all aware, we have successfully absorbed many power holders into the orb. While our efforts have been fruitful, we must now address our plans for expansion. With the latest addition to our ranks—Adam, the last power holder to enter DMR—there are new opportunities ahead.”

Rune shrugged dismissively, rolling her eyes. “He’s just the latest name on the list. Kim was the one who insisted we let him in, but frankly, all I’ve heard is that he once had some trouble during a training exercise. It’s hardly worth our concern, isn’t it?”

Marcus leaned back slightly, contemplating Rune’s words. “True, he’s just another entity in the grand scheme of things. We haven’t even seen any major impact from his presence here. Once absorbed, he’ll be little more than a memory.”

Michael nodded, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. “Exactly. We shouldn’t waste time dwelling on individual cases. The focus needs to remain on our goals. Our intention is to absorb as many power holders as we can. Adam is merely one more piece in our strategy. After all, we’re not here to save anyone; we’re here to claim dominance.”

Mira elegantly intertwined her fingers, her voice smooth. “And what about the instructors we have placed in the training dorms? They’ve served us well, conditioning these power holders for absorption. Are we certain they will remain loyal once their utility fades?”

Michael waved a dismissive hand, unfazed. “We’ve established their loyalty through manipulation and rewards. They believe they’re part of something greater, but when the time comes, they, too, will be discarded once their purpose is fulfilled. This is just the nature of our operations.”

“Still,” Rune interjected, raising an eyebrow. “We should consider that level of detachment can breed resentment. We need them focused and compliant. If we disregard their commitment halfway through, it could lead to complications.”

“Complications are nothing we can’t manage,” Michael countered smoothly. “We control the narrative. They are working toward this vision of ours, and as long as that potential remains, we hold the upper hand. Besides, they’re easily replaceable. Once we’ve absorbed enough power, we’ll be in a position to weed out any threats.”

Marcus, who had been silent, finally spoke up again, his voice cautious. “And once we conquer the outside world, how do we plan to deal with any remaining factions? There are power holders there, as well as those who are seasoned in combat.”

Mira smiled coldly. “Our greatest asset is our unpredictability. We’ll strike when they least expect it. All this talk of power holders and their petty struggles means nothing in the grand vision we’re creating. They’re simply collateral in our quest for supremacy.”

Michael leaned in with a gleam in his eye. “Exactly! We are forging a new order. In this world, the weak will be absorbed, the powerful will become our instruments, and those who stand against us—the assassins and others—will learn the true meaning of despair.

The tension in the room pulsed as each member absorbed his words, their loyalty both driven by ambition and tinged with the fear of what ultimate power could demand. As they considered the possibilities ahead, the air thickened with intrigue, each one aware that they were one step closer to creating a new world ruled by their iron will.

“Great,” Michael concluded, nodding to each of them. “Let’s proceed with our plans.Now, on to the next phase—our Grand Tournament.”

The air shifted, a buzz of intrigue sparking at the mention of the tournament. Rune sat up straighter, her curiosity piqued. “The tournament? How do you propose to execute it?”

Michael smiled, his demeanor exuding confidence. “The Grand Tournament will serve as a catalyst. We will invite power holders to compete against one another, showcasing their abilities and pushing them to their limits. The competition will not only strengthen them individually but also elevate the sheer volume of energy available for absorption into the orb.”

Colin raised an eyebrow, his voice steady. “And the purpose of this competition is what exactly? To distract them while we prepare for absorption?”

“Precisely,” Michael affirmed, his excitement palpable. “Imagine this: as power holders vie for dominance during the tournament, their energies will become increasingly potent. The more they push themselves within the competitive environment, the more resonance and strength we can draw from them. In essence, they will become walking reservoirs.”

Mira’s expression became thoughtful. “But how do we ensure they don’t realize our motives? We need them to believe they are competing for something worthwhile.”

“That’s simple,” Michael replied with a sly grin. “We always offer a prize that ignites their ambition—a chance to earn prestige and influence within our ranks. . They will see the tournament as a means of ascending to greater power.

Rune nodded slowly, a spark of enthusiasm igniting in her eyes. “This could work. The sense of rivalry and ambition will fuel their performance. It's a clever way to turn them against one another while keeping us in control.”

“Exactly,” Michael continued, leaning forward with urgency. “The gameplay will create fractures among their alliances. They’ll be so focused on defeating their competitors that they won’t realize they are feeding us the energy they accumulate. Once the tournament concludes, we’ll absorb the power holders.

Marcus frowned slightly, considering their approach. “But we must ensure that no one catches wind of what we’re doing. If anyone anticipates the outcome, it could ruin everything. Can we truly trust the instructors to maintain the secrecy of our plan while managing the tournament?”

“Absolutely,” Michael said with conviction. “We have conditioned those instructors to see us as the ultimate authority. Their loyalty to our cause is rooted in the power and influence they believe they possess. They have a vested interest in keeping the holders in line, knowing that their successes mirror our greater goals.”

Mira's gaze sharpened, curiosity dancing in her eyes.

Michael’s smile deepened, infused with ambition. “Our ultimate objective is to reshape the world. The energy we’ll siphon from the tournament will not only fortify our numbers but also grant us the means to challenge the existing regime outside DMR. We’ll become the architects of a new order, where our power reigns supreme—a society ruled by us, enforcing our vision upon anyone who dares to resist.”

Rune felt a surge of exhilaration coursing through her. “We could truly be unstoppable if we manage to control the power dynamics effectively. Holding the tournament will ignite passions among the holders, allowing us to spin the narrative in our favor.”

“Precisely,” Michael replied, clearly elated by the possibilities. “Once the power holders are fully engaged in competition, we can observe their capabilities closely, analyzing their strengths but also their weaknesses. This insight will give us the upper hand when the time comes to absorb them into our ranks.”

The energy in the room surged as they exchanged looks of excitement and determination, each member fueled by the prospect of their impending success. They were not merely scheming; they were constructing a foundation for a new empire.

“As for Adam, the newest addition, he’ll serve as a wildcard,” Michael continued. “Unbeknownst to him, he will participate in this tournament alongside the others. It will be intriguing to see how he performs. His presence alone can shake up expectations, drawing even more power into our orbit.”

Mira smirked, intrigue lighting her silver-haired features. “And if he flounders? We must be prepared for any outcome.”

“Then so be it,” Michael replied, unperturbed. “Each power holder serves a purpose, and even in failure, they are valuable. Every fragment of their energy can be harvested. We’ll always turn challenges into opportunities.”

His eyes glowed a faint white, a small smile creeping across his face.