CHAPTER 39: CHAPTER 39: FEAR

"We... we all saw you die."

Adam’s eyes met Hannah’s for but a moment, but it was obvious that there was a storm of guilt swirling within them.

"I’m sorry," he said, closing his eyes as he sighed.

Hannah stared at him, her gaze falling onto the bloodstained cloth on his collars, before straying up to his throat, which should have had a hole in it—but there was nothing. Only his neck, completely unscathed.

Her fingers trembled as she gestured vaguely at where his fatal wound should be.

"How... did you survive? What... how is this..." Her words stumbled over each other as her eyes flicked between Grace and Samantha, as if wanting answers from them.

Grace didn’t speak, but her and her daughter’s lack of surprise was all the answer she needed.

"You... what?"

The absurdity of what she wanted to say—that he couldn’t be killed, that he was something beyond human—caught in her throat.

The thought was... ridiculous.

Adam stepped forward, and like water parting around a stone, the Red creeps moved aside for him.

Their eyes followed him with a mixture of awe and fear that surpassed any respect they’d shown for the Heroes. After all, they had witnessed him cut through the ranks of their enemies, targeting only those who directly threatened him.

Even before he fought with Sylvie, they already knew who he was.

The Red creeps stood behind Adam now, heads bowed, unable to meet the eyes of the blue team across from them.

"Why... why are you doing this?!" A woman from the blue team clenched her fist, her knuckles turning white. She then jabbed a finger toward the children huddled together.

"You were protecting them just moments ago! What... what changed?!"

Adam looked at the children, their faces streaked with tears, eyes wide with confusion and fear. Something twisted in his chest, and he turned away, taking another step forward.

Do you see now, Adam? Do you see the choice you have to take? You are the same as the rest of them—you show kindness, only to betray them at the end. You are no better.

This is the reality of the world, Adam. You are a bad person, just like... them.

"Please..!" The word escaped him, wanting to drown his thoughts.

"I don’t want to fight anymore."

"Then don’t, please! We... we beg you!" The desperation in the blue creeps’ voices cracked through the air.

Adam shook his head slowly. "I’m not going to fight any of you—please, just let us pass. I’m... I’m only after the crystal."

"You’re asking us to die!" The blue creeps raised their flimsy and rusted weapons, the metal catching the light from the crystal behind them, casting blue shadows across their frightened faces.

"That’s... not for certain. A Hero might arrive while I’m destroying the crystal," Adam covered his face in shame, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. "All I’m asking is for you to give us a choice to push through."

"But the children!" They gestured again at the small figures huddled together.

"I know," Adam’s teeth ground together, and... tears finally broke free, tracking down his dirt-smudged face. "I know."

He glanced back at Grace and Samantha. Grace stared at him for a moment, before she nodded, her hand gentle but firm on her daughter’s arm as they moved to stand beside him.

Hannah watched everything unfold, and after hesitating since the beginning, she finally made her choice.

She crossed to the blue team’s side, metal bar in hand, and blocked Adam’s path.

"This is so fucked up," she said, her head shaking as if trying to deny the reality around them. "It’s so... so fucked up, and i’m sorry, Adam."

Adam nodded, glancing into her eyes as he once again repeated the words, "We survive... and then we ask for forgiveness."

"I’ve...already forgiven you for what’s about to happen," Hannah choked out a laugh that didn’t match her tears. And as she raised her makeshift weapon, the rest of her team seemed to find their courage, gripping their own weapons tighter.

"I—" Hannah wanted to say something else, but Adam suddenly rushed at her with shocking speed.

His fist connected with her liver—a precise strike that dropped her instantly. The blue creeps froze, their newfound resolve that they only gained literally a second ago, crumbling like sand as they watched Hannah fall.

"You’ll be fine," Adam whispered, softly catching her before she hit the ground, lowering her gently.

He checked for her breath, his palm hovering over her mouth. And when he felt the warm exhale against his skin, relief quickly washed over him.

He then slowly stood up, and the Blue creeps started backing away, their weapons now trembling in their hands.

But not all of them backed away.

A handful of Blue Creeps—three, then five, then nearly a dozen—tightened their grips on their makeshift clubs and scrap-metal blades. Perhaps it was fear. Perhaps it was pride. Or maybe, after watching Hannah fall, they finally remembered they were creeps, born and raised to survive through violence.

One of them shouted, a shaky, brittle war cry that broke halfway through.

"Get him!"

Adam didn’t move.

They crashed into him like a wave, striking his ribs, his shoulders, his face—each blow landing with the dull thud of desperation. Adam didn’t block. He didn’t even flinch. He just stood there, arms loose at his sides, taking every hit as if he were absorbing their anger for them. The Creeps kept swinging, their strikes growing wilder, more panicked, until the rhythm of their violence turned clumsy.

Only when one of them screamed in pain from his own fractured wrist—after striking Adam as hard as he could—did Adam finally move.

"I’m sorry," Adam whispered.

He stepped forward once.

It was gentle. Almost tender. A tap to the side of a jaw. A push to the chest. A flick to the wrist. But the results were catastrophic—bodies collapsing, weapons clattering to the ground, breath knocked from lungs in sharp, miserable gasps.

Each Creeps fell harmlessly, but completely, as if their fury had simply been switched off. And once again, the people from the Blue team backed away.

Throughout all of this, Adam’s expression never hardened.

If anything... he only looked more tired.

More regretful.

More afraid of himself than of them.

"From now on," Adam said, his voice quiet but reaching everyone’s ears,

"I will only attack people who will attack me, no one else. So, please... don’t do it."