Marvel: My Life Is A TV SHOW!-Chapter 118: The Script! It’s Brilliant!

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Chapter 118: The Script! It's Brilliant!

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That's why she felt apprehensive even bringing up the topic, only after Adam assured her it would be fine and that, worst comes to worst, they would suicide together like in fairy tales.

She wasn't sure what fairy tales he had read, but such incomprehensible words somehow always find a way to settle her mood.

Why worry and lose sanity when the walking Fountain of Youth, Beauty, and Power gives no fuck?

Speaking of Adam, he was indeed without care, his cybernetic left arm gleamed, and his eyes, both crimson, including his mechanical eye, burned with anticipation.

He's here to entertain, and the audience seems to love his vampiric look, the white hair, crimson eyes, and wild demeanor.

He began to strip off his suit jacket and vest, folding them with careful elegance and placing them on a clean patch of moss.

His white dress shirt followed, leaving him bare-chested in the cool air. The mechanical arm remained, its titanium surface warm against his skin.

His technopathy reached out, crossing miles to the communicators he'd left with Rogue and Domino in the neighboring town.

"Status," He said. "Security systems are neutralized. You can start." His voice was calm, almost gentle.

"And remember: have fun. Enjoy the extremity of what we're about to do. Laugh, even if you don't mean it at first. You'll learn to mean it in time."

He paused, letting his words settle.

"These people," He continued, "Don't deserve to impact our consciousness. They're obstacles. Enemies. Demons."

"But even the strongest of men can crack under the weight of necessary cruelty, that I know. So if it becomes too much; if the weight presses too hard; you can fall back. I will take care of everything."

His tone hardened, the gentleness crystallizing into something cold and absolute.

"But if you truly want to go through with this... show no mercy. Show no sympathy. They will beg. They will suddenly remember the families they left behind to come here and destroy other families."

"They will weep for their children, hoping that mentioning innocent lives will spare their own. They will say anything, promise anything, for a chance to live."

His smile was serene. "For a chance to live and destroy the next family. So! No mercy. No hesitation."

The words were aimed primarily at Rogue. She was the variable; the kind, lovely girl who had somehow become obsessed with him and his methods.

He had corrupted her, intentionally or not, and now she was desperate to prove her usefulness. But was she ready for this? Could she look into the eyes of a begging man and touch them into oblivion?

The responses came through his earpiece.

Domino's voice was lazy, almost bored, but undercut with sharp anticipation. "Mercy is for people who can afford it. I've always been on a budget. Let's make some memories, boss."

Rogue's Southern drawl was steadier than he expected. "They took children, Adam. They put 'em in cages and did God-knows-what."

"Ah don't need to imagine their families; they didn't imagine ours. Don't you worry 'bout me." A pause, then softer, "Ah'll laugh for ya. Even if it feels wrong at first. Ah'll learn."

Adam's smile warmed. "That's my girls." He made a joke, deliberately absurd to cut the tension. "Remember, if anyone asks, we're here for the annual Hydra performance review. Very hostile takeover. Hostile, hostile takeover. And Hydra likes it rough."

Domino smiled. Rogue giggled, saying, "I'm not so much into snakes, but I will try my best."

"Well," Adam said, rolling his shoulders. "Charge."

The line went silent, but his technopathy remained connected, a thread of awareness linking him to their movements.

He was still connected to the Null-Suit, for he had left it to Rogue. She would need it much more than he does.

Rogue's ability is a cheat code, but she still needs touch for it to function. The suit should prove useful in that regard.

For himself, he wanted a different kind of massacre today. Something visceral. Intimate.

The masochist in him was screaming for some roughing up, non sexual roughing up, of course, but he has a hunch the sadist part will be winning today.

He raised his left arm, examining the gleaming titanium. With a thought, he commanded the intricate mechanisms within.

A soft hum emanated from the shoulder joint. Gears engaged, locking systems disengaged, and with a controlled hiss of released pressure, the entire mechanical arm unscrewed itself from the stump of his shoulder.

It fell into his waiting right hand. He caught it briskly, the weight familiar and satisfying.

The arm began to transform. Segmented plating shifted and reconfigured. Servos whined as components realigned.

The hand folded inward, the forearm compacted, and within seconds, the magnificent piece of cybernetic engineering had reshaped itself into something new.

It reshaped into a sleek, hovering robotic drone, its single camera lens glowing with soft blue light.

Adam examined his creation with paternal pride. "Lovely," He murmured.

"Alice," He said aloud, "Take control. Capture the spectacle. And make it cinematic. I'm going to make a movie out of Hydra's fall someday."

His smile turned dreamy. "Obviously, I'll play myself. Maybe I'll get Tony to play RDJ; a failed actor, drug addict seeking to make it big only to fail over and over again."

"Then, as if a divine blessing, he attained superpowers in an accident that took the life of someone dear to him, done by Hydra. He'd swear to exact revenge, to make something of himself."

"The path would lead him to work with me in our battle against the evil organization of pedos that is said to be seeking world destruction."

"An organization seeking to become demons, to sacrifice everyone in evil rituals, to end the universe, to trap innocents in hell forever, to... Well, I'm running out of facts about them to spit. That's enough for now."

"I'm not sure, though, if he'd appreciate the irony. For the villain role, I'm thinking a CGI hydra with Mephisto's face grafted onto it. We'll call it 'Hydra: A Love Story'."

"It's brilliant really, a tale of the demon lord's pursuit of my fucking amazing cock because he found out that the tool is the only thing capable of allowing him a ride to heaven, only to never succeed!"

"It's fucking Oscar worthy!" He laughed, the sound bright and unhinged and utterly, completely him.

[I'm... I dont knew whhay to syyy, bu i wheezzzzing and barly typ loooooooolololo!]

[I'm so fucking dead, lmao!!]

[Lmao] [Lol] [...] [Tf?] [What am I hearing?]

[He right u know, that's an oscar worthy script.]

[Not how Oscars work.]

[Right, bribes and influence, something the unhinged dumbass clearly lacks...]

[Ohh u can hear the spite in his voice. He genuinely despises Hydra and Mephisto.]

[God help Hydra.] [Traitor??! What!?] [Hail Hydra!]

[U know, u mama hailed my cock real good last night.]

[...] [Fuck u!] [...] [...] [...] [...]

[You just know Mephisto will be seething if he ever hears word of Adam's script.]

Adam flexed the bare stump of his left shoulder, phantom sensations tingling where his arm used to be.

Today is gonna be one hell of a day, his laughter only cementing that fact further.

By the time his laughter faded, a new arm had grown.

It emerged from the stump of his left shoulder not as titanium and circuitry, but as something far more inhumane.

Crimson ichor, his own blood, flowed from the wound he made in a controlled torrent, weaving and solidifying into the shape of a perfect human arm.

Aside from its color, it looked so real that veins of darker red pulsed beneath its surface, mostly due to appearances' sake.

What can Adam say? His obsessive-compulsive disorder forced him to perfect the art of the bloody arm.

Adam flexed the new fingers. They moved with even better dexterity than his original flesh, for controlling blood was more instinctual to him.

Good, he thought. His mastery over his vampiric capabilities has progressed significantly over time.

But what truly pushed his master beyond was the dual cultivation, which seems to strengthen everything about him, including his vampiric powers, feeling even more instinctual and natural to control.

He snapped his fingers. The sound was sharp, as sharp as the expectant smile that followed.

His skin seemed to dissolve, his form collapsing inward like a collapsing star, and in the space between heartbeats, Adam Cypher was gone.

In his place, suspended in the air where he had stood, was a bat.

Not an ordinary bat. This creature was the size of a raven, its fur sleek and dark as polished obsidian.

Its eyes, however, were unmistakable; the crimson eyes, even the mechanical eye was there.

It launched itself skyward with a speed that defied physics, its leathery wings cutting the air like blades.

At the apex of its ascent, the bat unfolded. Wings became arms. Fur became pale skin.

The blood-arm reformed in an instant. Adam Cypher hung in the sky, seemingly suspended by nothing, bare-chested.

Below him, sprawled across the French countryside like a scar on the earth, was a military compound. He narrowed his crimson eyes, then smiled eerily.