CHAPTER 16: TRIAL BY FIRE
The air in Central City seemed to perpetually hum with an electric tension, a constant reminder of the new reality wrought by the particle accelerator. Each passing day brought a new metahuman, a fresh challenge for Barry, and for Adam, another potential opportunity to further his bizarre quest for power. After the uneasy truce with Captain Cold, Adam's internal system was whispering with a new, fiery urgency.
"Okay, system, what's next on the menu? Something fiery? Something with a bit of a bang? I'm thinking… Pyrokinesis. Yes. That would be very, very useful. And I know just the guy to get it from."
The news channels were abuzz with reports of a new menace: a man leaving a trail of scorched earth and melted steel in his wake. Mick Rory, a known arsonist with a chillingly effective method of disposing of evidence, had acquired the ability to generate and manipulate intense flames. His targets were often criminal enterprises, but his methods were indiscriminate, leaving innocent lives at risk. He was crude, violent, and utterly consumed by fire. He was, in short, the perfect target for Adam's next "death-cation."
In the S.T.A.R. Labs Cortex, Barry, Caitlin, and Cisco were reviewing footage of Rory's latest fiery escapade. "He just… incinerated that vault door," Barry said, his voice grim. "We need to stop him before he burns down half the city."
Adam, leaning back in his chair with a casual air, steepled his fingers. "Ah, yes, Mick Rory. Or, as my 'future insights' like to call him, 'Mr. Toasty.' He's got a real flair for the dramatic, doesn't he? Very hot-headed. Literally. And I'm getting a very strong feeling that his next target is the old Central City National Bank vault. Rumor has it, it holds some rather… sensitive files. And also, it's highly flammable, which I'm sure appeals to his aesthetic."
Caitlin frowned. "Adam, are you suggesting we let him go there to catch him?"
"Never!" Adam exclaimed, feigning offense. "I'm merely suggesting that his predictable, fiery patterns make him an ideal candidate for a… controlled intervention. And frankly, my insights are telling me that someone on the team is going to need to get very, very close to him. Someone who can withstand extreme temperatures. Someone who's naturally good at being the guy who gets burned. Someone like… me." He sighed dramatically. "It's a tough job, but someone's gotta be the designated crispy critter. And I'm really good at it."
Barry, remembering Adam's gruesome regeneration after the Girder incident, looked uneasy. "Adam, we talked about this. You can't just go around getting yourself killed."
"Oh, Barry, you misunderstand!" Adam protested. "This isn't just about 'getting myself killed.' This is about acquiring Pyrokinesis! Imagine the possibilities! Starting campfires with a snap of my fingers! Heating up cold coffee instantly! Distracting villains by making their shoelaces spontaneously combust! The tactical applications are limitless!" He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Besides, think of it as… extreme exposure therapy. Gotta face your fears, right? And my fear is apparently not getting a new skill from a pyrokinetic."
Wells, who had been listening in silence, interjected, his voice calm. "Mr. Stiels's unique… abilities do present certain… opportunities. However, the acquisition of a skill through such direct means comes with considerable risk, even for you. Rory is volatile and incredibly dangerous. Your 'resurrection' process, while effective, is not without its… side effects, as we've observed."
Adam waved a dismissive hand. "Details, details! Nothing a good burger and a few hours of complaining can't fix. Besides, I've got this. I've always got this. Now, let's go catch ourselves a firebug. And maybe I'll get a new skill in the process. Fingers crossed!"
The team located Rory at the old bank vault, just as Adam had predicted. The scene was already a raging inferno, the heat intense, the air thick with smoke. Barry zoomed in, trying to create a vacuum to starve the flames, but Rory, wielding what looked like a homemade flamethrower, was a force of nature.
Adam, armed with a fire extinguisher he'd inexplicably acquired (and probably wasn't rated for this level of inferno), positioned himself. "Alright, Rory! Nice fire! Did you get that from a discount pyrotechnics store? Because it looks a little… underwhelming! You call that a blaze? That's barely a sparkler! Come on, give me some real heat!" He began dousing a wall of flames, a futile gesture given the scale of the inferno.
Rory, a hulking man with a perpetually scowling face, turned, his eyes narrowing. "You think this is a joke, punk? I'll show you a joke!" He aimed his flamethrower at Adam, a torrent of superheated fuel erupting from the nozzle.
Adam stood his ground, a defiant, almost eager, smirk on his face. The flames washed over him, a searing, all-consuming heat that stole his breath. He felt his clothes ignite, his skin blister, the agonizing pain of his body being consumed by fire. The smell of burning flesh, his own, filled his nostrils. He screamed, a raw, primal sound, as the world dissolved into a blinding, agonizing inferno.
"Well, that was thorough. Definitely felt that one. Not quite as graceful as last time, but beggars can't be choosers when it comes to getting flambéed. Hope I got the skill. Because if I didn't, I'm going to be very, very annoyed when I wake up."
SYSTEM MESSAGE: HOST DECEASED. SKILL ACQUISITION INITIATED. ACQUIRING: MINOR PYROKINESIS.
SYSTEM MESSAGE: REGENERATING...
Moments later, as Barry finally managed to contain Rory and douse the worst of the flames, he sped back to where Adam had fallen. Caitlin and Cisco arrived, their faces pale with shock and horror. Adam was nothing more than a charred, smoking husk, a grotesque, unrecognizable silhouette on the scorched ground.
"Adam! Oh my god!" Caitlin shrieked, her voice choked with grief. She immediately dropped to her knees, but there was nothing to check, no signs of life, just the lingering smell of burnt flesh. Barry stood frozen, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and utter despair.
Then, the charred husk began to twitch. Slowly, impossibly, the smoke dissipated, and the burned flesh began to peel away, revealing fresh, pristine skin underneath. Limbs reformed, muscles knitted back together, and in a matter of seconds, Adam was sitting up, coughing and sputtering.
"Ugh," he groaned, rubbing his chest. "That's going to leave a mark. Or at least, a very vivid memory. Who knew getting roasted alive was so… exhilarating? Get it? Exhilarating? Because I got exhilarated? I'm here all week, folks!" He pushed himself up, still covered in soot, but otherwise perfectly fine. He flexed his fingers, and a small, controlled flame flickered at his fingertips, dancing mischievously. "And look what I got! Minor pyrokinesis! I can probably light a cigar with my fingers now! Or give people really uncomfortable hot hands! The pranking possibilities are endless!" He grinned, then winced as a phantom ache flared. "Though, honestly, I was hoping for something a little more… cool. Like, ice powers. But hey, I'll take it. Less broken bones and more controlled infernos in the future. Hopefully."
Caitlin stumbled back, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe, horror, and a growing frustration. "Adam! You were… you were incinerated! There was nothing left! How can you just… do that?!"
"Just a little perk of the whole 'Immortal System' thing," Adam said, dusting himself off. "It's very efficient. And very dramatic. And it ensures I'm always ready for the next adventure. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I just earned myself a very large, very well-done steak. And maybe a full body cold shower. This immortality thing is exhausting."
Barry, still processing the gruesome sight and miraculous recovery, could only shake his head. "You… you deliberately put yourself in that much danger?"
"Well, 'danger' is a strong word, Barry," Adam said with a shrug. "More like 'calculated risk.' It's all part of the plan, Flash. Gotta level up, gotta get those skills. And sometimes, that involves getting yourself thoroughly barbecued by a disgruntled metahuman. It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it. And I'm really good at it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think we have a firebug to lock up. And I really need that steak."
Wells, who had observed the entire gruesome spectacle from a distance, wheeled closer, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Mr. Stiels, your… dedication to your 'system' is truly remarkable. And your ability to acquire skills in such a… direct manner. We will need to discuss the full implications of this new ability. And perhaps, how it can be… leveraged." There was a predatory gleam in his eyes.
Adam met his gaze, a challenge in his own. "Oh, I'm sure we will, Dr. Wells. I'm sure we will. Plenty of time for strategic leveraging. But for now, I think we have a hothead to lock up. And I really need that steak."