Lord-Campione
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Chapter 07: Broken Waffles and Burning Bridges
🕑 Added 2024-11-21 00:32:40 +0000 UTCAdrian’s body felt like a bag of broken glass as the elevator hummed its descent into the depths of Cadmus. The 52nd floor. He had heard whispers from other subjects about what lay below—the monsters, the ones they called genomorphs. Cadmus’ “artificial lifeforms.”
Artificial my ass, Adrian thought, his eyelids heavy from the sedatives. He’d seen enough in his two years here to know the truth. The genomorphs weren’t created; they were forged. Broken people, failed experiments like him, twisted into something grotesque. Those who didn’t survive were reduced to raw material for Cadmus’ projects—spliced, restructured, stripped of their humanity. Adrian remembered them all: the screams, the gurgling cries as they were dragged away, the bodies that disappeared into the shadows.
And now, here he was, being taken even deeper.
When the elevator doors slid open with a hiss, the sight almost made him vomit. The walls weren’t metal anymore. They pulsed, slick with organic tissue, intertwined with machinery. Cables coiled like veins across the floor, glowing faintly with some kind of sickly bioluminescence. Control panels jutted from the fleshy walls, their blinking lights embedded in raw, twitching tissue. The air was damp and humid, heavy with the smell of rot and antiseptic.
The floor wasn’t just alive. It was growing.
Adrian tried to keep his head up as the guards dragged him down the hall, but the sedatives pulled at him like an anchor. His mind clung to every detail, etching it into his eidetic memory. He couldn’t stop himself—his cursed mind remembered everything. Every sound. Every smell. Every squelch of the organic floor beneath their boots.
---
When they reached the lab, they didn’t throw him onto a table like usual. This time, it was worse.
The chamber was enormous, its walls covered in massive, fleshy tubes pumping a glowing purple substance through glass veins. In the center of the room stood a cylindrical tank filled with swirling, iridescent liquid. It pulsed faintly, like it was alive. Adrian didn’t like the way the liquid moved. It wasn’t water. It wasn’t anything natural.
He didn’t want to think about what they were going to do to him this time.
“Strap him down,” ordered Dr. Emil Hamilton, his calm voice cutting through the room like a scalpel.
Adrian flinched as the guards hoisted him onto the table, locking his wrists and ankles into cold, unyielding restraints. Even sedated, his instincts screamed at him to fight. But he couldn’t. Not yet.
Hamilton leaned over him, adjusting his glasses. His face, with its perfectly combed salt-and-pepper hair and sharp, calculating eyes, was the face Adrian hated most in the world.
“You’ve made it further than anyone else, Adrian,” Hamilton said, his voice almost warm. “Two years, and here you are. The only subject to survive the process. You should feel proud. You’re not just a survivor. You’re proof that our work is possible.”
Adrian tried to spit at him, but his mouth was too dry. “Go…to hell,” he croaked, his voice hoarse.
Hamilton smiled faintly, unbothered. “I’ve heard that before.” He gestured to the tank in the center of the room. “Do you know what this is, Adrian? Of course, you don’t. But you will.”
Adrian’s eyes flickered toward the tank. His gut churned.
Hamilton continued, pacing slowly around the table. “That substance in the tank—it’s not from this world. We call it the Artifact. Alien, ancient, and entirely unique. We found it during an excavation near Themiscyra—yes, that’s Wonder Woman’s turf. But this? This is far older than her gods.”
One of the scientists—Dr. Desmond—cut in, adjusting the settings on a monitor. “It’s a crystalline lifeform, self-replicating, biomechanical in nature. We’ve spent decades trying to unlock its potential, but it’s incomplete without a host.”
“Until now,” Hamilton said, gesturing toward Adrian. “Your body is special, Adrian. Resilient. Adaptive. The liquid crystal we’ve infused into your veins was a prototype—a way to prepare your physiology for this moment. And it worked. You’ve already surpassed human limits. At this point, you could outpace an Olympic gold medalist in any discipline. But this…”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was telling Adrian a secret.
“This will make you more than human. It will make you a weapon.”
The scientists worked methodically, speaking in clipped tones as they prepared the tank. Adrian caught fragments of their conversation, his mind struggling to stay coherent through the haze of sedatives.
“Subject is stable,” Lin said, her voice cautious. “Heart rate is holding, but his neural activity is spiking.”
“That’s expected,” Desmond replied, not looking up from his tablet. “The Artifact’s integration will stimulate every system in his body, especially the brain. His crystal lattice will adapt as the bonding progresses.”
“We’re essentially growing a weaponized exoskeleton from the inside out,” Hamilton added, his tone brisk. “The Artifact’s crystals will respond to his neurological impulses. He’ll be able to grow and shape crystals at will.”
Lin hesitated. “What about rejection?”
Hamilton turned to her, his expression cool. “There will be no rejection. Adrian’s physiology is uniquely suited to this process. His survival instinct alone is enough to drive the integration. Haven’t you noticed? He doesn’t just endure. He remembers. Every trauma. Every experiment. His mind won’t let him die.”
“Resilience or rage?” Desmond muttered, smirking.
Hamilton’s eyes gleamed. “Both. That’s what makes him perfect.”
Adrian’s head lolled to the side, his breathing shallow. The words swirled in his mind—weapon, crystal, integration. His chest burned with fury, but his body refused to move.
“You’re preparing him for Project Kr,” Lin said quietly, breaking the tension.
Hamilton nodded. “Yes. Superman is a god among men, and gods need their titans. That’s where Adrian comes in. He’s our Prometheus—the one who will bring fire to the mortals. He’ll be our leash on Project Kr, and when the time comes, he’ll be the blade at Superman’s throat.”
Adrian’s heart pounded, even through the sedatives. Superman? Leash? They were planning to pit him against the greatest hero the world had ever known.
“Enough talk,” Hamilton said, waving the others aside. “Let’s begin.”
The restraints released, and Adrian was slid into the tank. The purplish liquid swallowed him, thick and cold, filling his lungs and veins. He didn’t drown. He absorbed. His body screamed, crystals expanding inside him, searing every nerve as the Artifact merged with his flesh.
“Integration is accelerating,” Desmond said, awe in his voice. “The Artifact is responding. It’s…growing.”
Hamilton smiled, watching Adrian convulse. “Humanity’s weapon,” he murmured. “Our titan.”
Adrian’s vision flickered, his mind tearing at the seams. The last thing he thought before the darkness took him was a single word.
No.
---
Adrian stirred at the edge of consciousness, his eyes fluttering open to blinding white light and the hum of machines. His body ached, his muscles stiff, and his wrists were bound to the cold metal operating table. For a moment, he couldn’t remember why he was awake. He was supposed to be sedated. That much he knew.
Then he felt it—a deep rumble shaking the walls around him. Loose instruments rattled on the nearby trays. The sound of something heavy crashing echoed through the corridor beyond.
Adrian blinked, the fog of sedation slowly peeling away. His body felt sluggish, but his mind was clear. He turned his head just enough to see her—the scientist working in the corner.
Dr. Kate Mercer.
He knew her. He knew all of them. Mercer was one of Hamilton’s lackeys, assigned to “monitor” him during his downtime. She was younger than most of the others, probably mid-30s, with sharp green eyes and a face that might’ve been kind if it weren’t for the stress lines carved into it. She was hunched over a G-Gnome, one of the grotesque little genomorphs with oversized heads and milky white eyes. The creature twitched as her fingers rested on its bulbous scalp, her lips moving in rapid whispers. Telepathic relay. Adrian had seen her use it before to communicate across the facility.
If she’s that focused on the G-Gnome, and no one else is in the room… Adrian’s eyes flicked to the scalpel on the tray beside him. Then trouble’s brewing. Trouble meant chaos. Chaos meant opportunity.
The rumbling grew louder. A faint tremor rolled through the table beneath him, and Mercer cursed under her breath, too distracted by the telepathic communication to notice Adrian slowly tensing his muscles.
---
Adrian glanced down at his restraints. Leather, not steel this time. He almost laughed.
They didn’t think I’d even twitch. These morons.
Without hesitation, he flexed his right wrist sharply. The joint cracked with a sickening snap, the bones grinding against each other as he dislocated it. Pain flared up his arm, but to Adrian, pain was just noise—an irritation, not a barrier. He winced but didn’t make a sound. Slowly, he slipped his mangled hand free of the strap, his fingers twitching as they hovered over the scalpel.
His left hand shot out, seizing the scalpel with practiced precision. In one swift motion, he sliced through the straps on his other wrist and ankles.
The heart monitor beside him let out a sharp, panicked beep.
Dr. Mercer’s head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “How—” she stammered, backing up instinctively. “You—you shouldn’t even be able to move. With the amount of sedatives we gave you, not even an elephant—”
Adrian swung his legs off the table, his cracked wrist already resetting itself as he rolled it experimentally. “So that’s why the restraints were leather,” he said flatly, his voice hoarse but steady.
Before Mercer could react, the G-Gnome let out a screech and lunged at him, its tiny claws outstretched. Adrian snatched it mid-air, gripping its spindly body like a toy. The creature thrashed, its psychic energy crackling faintly in his skull, but Adrian didn’t flinch.
He moved fast, slamming the G-Gnome into the wall as he crossed the room toward Mercer. She scrambled backward, but he was faster. His free hand closed around her throat, pinning her against the fleshy wall.
“Transfer the G-Gnome’s connection to me,” Adrian hissed, his face inches from hers. His fingers tightened, digging into her throat.
Her lips parted, her eyes wide with terror. How does he know?
Adrian smirked, his teeth bared like a wolf. “Oh, come on, Doc. What else do I have to do around here except listen and observe?” He leaned in closer, his tone almost mocking. “You hate the coffee in the breakroom, you mutter ‘idiot’ every time Lin screws up an injection, and you hum ‘Dream On’ when you think no one’s paying attention. You’re not as mysterious as you think.”
The room shook violently again, and Mercer flinched. Adrian used the distraction to slam her head into the wall, her nose cracking under the force.
“Next, I’ll bite your ear off like a KitKat,” he growled, his voice dripping with venom. “Aren’t I a monster?”
Mercer whimpered, her pants darkening as she lost control. Tears streamed down her face as her hands fumbled toward the G-Gnome. “O-Okay! Okay!” she gasped. “I’ll do it!”
The G-Gnome twitched in Adrian’s hand, its psychic field shifting as Mercer redirected its connection. Adrian felt it immediately—a surge of pressure in his skull as the telepathic link expanded, feeding him glimpses of the chaos outside the lab. He saw explosions. A boy in red running faster than the eye could follow. Another with dark hair swinging through the corridors.
“There,” Mercer croaked, clutching her broken nose. “The relay’s yours.”
Adrian grinned. “Now, was that so hard?” He loosened his grip slightly, tilting his head. “So, what’s all this shaking about?”
Mercer coughed, her voice trembling. “It’s—it’s them. Robin. Kid Flash. Aqualad. They broke into Cadmus to—” She winced, her eyes darting to the G-Gnome. “They’re taking Project Kr. The Superman clone.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Superman clone, huh? Guess the world’s gotten interesting in two years.” He chuckled darkly. “By the way, who won the Super Bowl?”
“What?” Mercer stammered, confused.
“Super Bowl. Who won?” Adrian pressed, his voice impatient.
“The Cowboys,” she said, blinking rapidly.
Adrian’s grin twisted into something bitter. He barked a laugh. “God, I hate the Cowboys. Why do they always win? This world is so unfair!” He ranted, pacing a few steps away while still gripping her throat. “Seriously, all that talent, and they still can’t win a game that doesn’t make you want to throw up. And don’t even get me started on their—”
CRACK.
Mercer’s head smashed into the wall mid-rant, her body going limp as blood streaked down the fleshy surface. Adrian blinked, looking at her lifeless face.
“I hate spoilers, bitch,” he muttered, tossing her aside like garbage. The G-Gnome twitched weakly in his grip, its psychic link still active.
Adrian looked down at it, his voice low and cold. “Guide me out of this hellhole.”
Disguised in Mercer’s lab coat and goggles, Adrian moved through the facility, his steps calm and deliberate. The G-Gnome pulsed in his mind, feeding him glimpses of the chaos erupting across Cadmus. Adrian didn’t care about them. Let them tear the place apart.
He ducked past a group of genomorphs, their hulking forms lumbering through the halls. The psychic link let him stay one step ahead, avoiding guards and automated defenses. He slipped into the elevator, his heart pounding as he punched the button for the surface.
When the elevator doors slid open and Adrian stepped out into the night, the sight of the moon hanging high in the sky nearly brought him to his knees. The cool air hit his face like a slap, fresh and sharp, so unlike the stifling, rotting atmosphere of Cadmus.
For a moment, he stood there, staring at the stars. He almost let himself cry.
Almost.
But then he looked down at the G-Gnome in his hand. “Thanks for the help,” he said flatly.
With one swift motion, he snapped its neck and dropped it to the ground. It twitched once, then went still.
Adrian turned and ran, his mind clear for the first time in years. He had one goal now. One name burned into his memory, a reminder of where all this started.
Lou.
Comments
Lord Blood-Campione
Thanks means alot from a regular commenter like you, I was also thinking of writing one for marvel but I don't wanna be overwhelmed rn and I'm already writing another soo.
DaoOfAnime
Interesting so far. Not a fan of DC but this was good
