Chapter 1: Adam

I... fainted?

Adam blinked into consciousness.

A hospital room. The sterile white walls hummed with quiet activity. A few other patients rested nearby in their beds. He lay on a comfortable one himself, sunlight filtering through half-drawn curtains. His memory was foggy.

I blacked out… yesterday? Was it even yesterday? What day is it?

He swung his legs off the bed, groaning slightly. Just as he was about to flag down a nurse, one turned around with a bright smile.

"Oh! Hello! You're awake! And you're standing! Are you okay?" the nurse chirped, setting a tray of food down. She was young, energetic, with a kind of bubbly clumsiness that radiated from her every movement.

Adam blinked, still dazed.

"Yeah... I'm okay."

"Thank goodness! I thought we had another case of craz—err, I mean, memory issues!" she giggled nervously. "The responders said they found you in a destroyed alley, clothes torn, soaked in blood. But no injuries! None! We double-checked everything, don't worry."

She talks a lot. Reminds me of my drunk patrons.

His gaze drifted to the wall clock.

9 a.m.

"—oh! And your stuff's in the locker—it's all burnt, though. Did you catch the news? Oh, of course not! You were out cold. It was absolute chaos last night. We were overflowing with patients! Also, a detective came by—he's been waiting to talk to you. Said it's about what happened in that alley. Do you remember anything at all?"

Adam's brow furrowed. "There was a girl with me. Young. School uniform. Is she alright?"

The nurse paused, tilting her head. "Hmm... no idea. As far as I know, you were the only patient brought in from that scene. What happened there? They said it might've been some kind of terrorist attack—"

"Jennifer!" a sharp voice interrupted. A stern older nurse strode into the room, arms folded. She looked to be in her 40s and carried herself like a battle-hardened matron.

"I'm sorry, ma'am!" the younger nurse squeaked, snapping to a sheepish salute.

Adam held up a hand. "It's fine. I wanted to know too."

The older nurse nodded stiffly. "I apologize, Mr. Sayer. But the detective—Mr. Angelo—is here to see you. If you're feeling well enough."

"I can talk here. No need to walk."

As if on cue, a man in his 50s entered. Mr. Angelo wore a detective's badge clipped to his belt, eyes sharp and steps confident. Behind him was a frazzled-looking doctor, hair unkempt and eyes shadowed with fatigue.

"I told you he's faking it," the doctor snapped. "There's no way someone walks away from an explosion like that without a scratch. He's definitely involved. Gang member, terrorist, something. Look at him—perfect health! This is a waste of time and resources."

"Calm down, Doctor," Mr. Angelo said evenly. "Our department is covering his medical fees."

"Hmph. Fine. But get him out after this. We're overloaded." With that, the doctor stormed out.

"Rebecca," he called behind him, "get his things ready."

The strict nurse nodded and moved to the lockers.

Mr. Angelo turned back to Adam. "Now then, Mr. Sayer. You're not in pain, are you?"

Adam gave a weak smirk. "Aside from my ears ringing from that guy's voice, I'm fine."

The detective cracked a small smile. "Funny. Let's talk about the incident. Can you tell me what happened?" Mr. Angelo takes off his off hat, revealing his greying hair in a neat appearance.

Adam hesitated. He decided to tell the truth—about the explosion, the girl, the men who attacked him. But he left out the part about the healing. Even he was still wrapping his head around that.

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"Hmm. Viper's men..." Mr. Angelo murmured. "Not that I doubt you, but you're absolutely sure there were no explosives involved?"

Adam nodded. "Yeah. One of them was carrying the girl—called himself Bog. She just... exploded. That's the last thing I remember."

"This girl—any description?"

"High school uniform, I think from a private school. Auburn hair, very long. Probably around her waist? Sorry, didn't get a good look on her face. Her uniform looked worn. You didn't find her?"

"No. You were the only one alive at the scene. No cameras had a view of that alley. Closest one was too far to catch anything. If you saw her again, would you recognize her?"

"Hard to say. Aside from the hair. Nothing distinctive I can remember."

The detective sighed, rubbing his chin. "Troublesome. Animals attacking people, traffic accidents, mass hysteria... and now girls exploding."

He pulled out a card. "Alright. We'll cover your medical costs. If anything else comes to mind—or if you see her—contact me. I'll also send you pictures of nearby school uniforms."

"Thanks. My phone's toast from the explosion. Best way to reach me is my apartment or my bar—here's the address."

After sharing details, some small talk, and a final meal, Adam was discharged.

Back at his apartment, Adam found his emergency stash. He slipped the cash into his pocket.

I'll buy a phone on the way to the bar. Make sure it's still standing... and figure out what's happening to me.

His eyes narrowed.

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The bar was intact. Dim, quiet, undisturbed.

Adam stepped inside and shut the door behind him. The memories from last night came crashing back.

I should've died. Multiple stab wounds. That explosion. But I lived.

Do I have powers now?

He focused. Tried to will something—move an object, summon energy, anything. Nothing.

Maybe it's just regeneration? Does it work on others?

In the kitchen, he found a knife. Carefully, he made a shallow cut on his finger. It stung. But almost immediately, the wound closed. Blood seeped back in like reverse footage.

It works... Fast, too.

He stared at the knife, reflecting his face. A stubble is already growing on his face, his hair short and fuzzy. He turn his gaze to his palm.

Time to test it.

With a grimace, he drove the blade straight through his hand.

"Argh!"

Pain surged through him. Sweat beaded on his forehead. But he watched as the skin around the wound stitched itself closed—

—pulling the knife with it.

The metal began to dissolve inside his palm. Only the handle remained, the blade's stump clattering to the floor.

My regeneration... it's not just healing. It absorbed the metal. Consumed it.

He stared at the now-useless knife.

Now what?