Instincts

A faint pulse rippled through his chest — not painful, but definitely not normal. Like something had rewired itself just under his skin. He gasped softly, blinking fast. It wasn't adrenaline. It wasn't fear. It was like his body just remembered something it was never supposed to know.

Information settled into his head like puzzle pieces snapping into place. He suddenly understood how to use his powers. What it felt like. Not in words, but in muscle memory. His body knew what to do.

The soft HUD flickered, then faded, leaving behind only a small, pale bulb icon resting in the corner of his vision.

He stood from the bed, eyes drifting toward the back of the motel room. If he remembered right the alley out back was dark. No cameras, no people, just a clear stretch of cracked concrete between dumpsters and shadows.

"Let's test this."

His irises glinted orange for a moment as he faced toward the back wall. Then, he took a few quick steps back, focused and dashed towards the wall. With his powers already integrated into his mind and instincts, he vanished into smoke mid-stride, phasing through the motel wall.

Adam reappeared outside in a swirl of embers, stumbling just slightly before steadying himself.

"Holy sh—okay," he muttered, looking at his hands. They weren't shaking. They should've been, but… they weren't.

A breeze cut through the alley. It was colder now. Quiet. A cat darted between trash cans. The world felt different not because it changed, but because he had.

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The night air smelled of rain-soaked concrete and cigarette ash. Adam moved through back alleys and shadowed side streets, careful to avoid well-lit spots. His body still buzzed with the afterglow of tapping into those instincts whatever that meant.

He was looking for a place to test this powers, somewhere forgotten or half-finished. A rooftop, maybe. An abandoned constuction site. In a city like New York, there had to be atleast one or two places to breathe without watching eyes.

A few blocks later, he found it, a small construction lot tucked between apartment buildings. Scaffoldings half-assembled, steel rods sticking out like bones. No workers at this hour. Perfect.

He stepped forward,but then suddenly he heard something.

A faint muffled scream.

It wasn't close maybe a block away. But the night was still enough that even soft sounds traveled. His eyes darted around the buildings ahead. Nothing visible from street level. But there was a drainpipe running along the brick wall, narrow but intact.

Adam stepped back, took a breath, then bolted forward and vanished into a rush of smoke, phasing upward through the pipe. He emerged on the rooftop in a burst of smoke and embers, landing with a crouch. His irises glowed orange for a beat before dimming again. 

He crouched near the edge of the rooftop. Three guys. One of them holding a woman, she was kicking and a hand was clamped over her mouth, which muffled her screams. 

Adam's jaw tightened.

If this had been a week ago… before all of this… what would he have done?

Call 911. That would've been his first move. Maybe yell from a distance, maybe even record it for evidence. But actually jump in, without knowing if they had a gun? That would've been suicide. He was just a guy.

Now…? Now things were different.

He clenched his fists. He didn't need to wait anymore. And more importantly,

he didn't want to.

His dad used to say, "You don't get to walk past the ugly parts of the world just because you're scared. If someone's hurting, and you can help, then help."

And now? Now he could.

Adam stood up. Smoke shimmered faintly off his skin, his irises warming into a soft orange glow. He stepped back from the edge of the roof and quietly jogged to the side of the building. The fire escape wasn't an option, it's too noisy. Instead, he focused on the narrow alley below. A three-story drop. Doable now.

He bent his knees slightly and leapt.

He landed hard but quiet, his smoke powers cushioned his fall just enough that the impact didn't leave a sound like it should have. He could feel the difference. A week ago, that landing would've shattered something. Not now.

The van was parked across the street from where he crouched in shadow. The thugs were focused on their target, not their surroundings.

Good.

He crept up behind the one closest to the rear of the van, the guy who had grabbed woman. Before the man could turn, Adam grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him into the alley in tow dragging the woman.

The guy barely had time to grunt before Adam slammed him against the wall with just enough force to knock him out.

Thud.

Adam let the man's body slide to the ground and instantly crouched over the unconscious guy and, quickly tore off a piece of the man's dark shirt. A few rough knots later, he had a crude but functional mask tied over his nose and mouth, shadows concealing the rest.

He then turned to the woman and asked quietly. "You OK?" She nodded, still shaken by the situation.

Footsteps scuffed outside the alley.

"Hey, what was that?" The second thug was still standing by the van asked the third one, already halfway on the driver seat."You hear that?"

The third thug's head turned sharply. "Yeah."In one fluid motion, he stepped back out of the van and began moving toward the back of the van, hand already resting on the handle of his own piece.

"Quickly hide behind that dumpster." Adam urged the women. She quickly followed his instructions.

"Marco?" the second thug called. " you good?" now looking back and forth the back of the van and the alley with a frown forming on his face. He saw a shadow moving past out the corner of his eye and heard the thud. But no reply.

His hand reached into his coat and came back with a handgun. The thug stepped forward, squinting, facing the dark alley. "You better come out, whoever the hell you are. You don't want this."

Adam didn't respond. A flicker of smoke rose from Adam's fingers. His iris faintly pulsed an orange glow in the dark.

The gunman caught it , just a flash , and without hesitation, fired.

Bang!

Bang!

The bullets phased harmlessly through a swirl of black smoke. The glow of Adam's irises pulsed in the dark. The thug barely had time to register what he saw before Adam surged forward with a smoke dash.

The thug swore and stepped back "What the fu..!!?"

Adam reappeared inches from him, grabbing his wrist mid-swing and slamming the man into the side of the van.

Hard.

The guy dropped like a sack of bricks.

"Jesus!" Third thug recoiled, just reaching the corner. He closed the distance in two long strides, his body half-wreathed in smoke. The thug raised his gun, but Adam slammed into him hard, knocking the weapon aside with one hand and driving his face into the van with the other.

Adam breathed heavily and looked at what he did. He then turned towards the alley and called out to the woman. "You can come out now." He then crouched down and checked the thugs pockets and pulled out a switchblade, which he used to cut through the plastic ties wrapped around the woman's hand.

She rubbed her wrists, shaking. "Thank you". Ater a little hesitation, she asked. "Who… are you?"

He didn't answer that.

Instead, "Do you have someplace safe to go? Want me to take you to a precinct?

"No," she said, immediately. "No cops. I...I have somewhere. I just need to leave a message first."

Adam tilted his head. "Message?"

"Alright. Do that," Adam said. "I'll walk you to your place. Make sure no one follows."

Claire nodded. She looked at him again really looked at him. "Thanks."

Adam gave a small shrug. "Wrong place, right time."

As they moved away from the van, Adam walked beside her, alert but calm. He didn't recognize her, just a familiar face from somewhere. An actress maybe? A commercial?

Then it hit him.

The nurse who treated Matt in the first season of Daredevil when he was injured.

'What was her name?' He thought. "Hey, what's your name?" Adam asked.

"Claire Temple." She answered 

Which meant… if this was playing out now, then Matt Murdock had already started.

And if Matt was moving against someone like Fisk this early, then things in this world, whatever version of it he'd landed in, were heating up faster than expected.

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Adam stood near the window, watching the street below for signs of trouble.

Claire moved with quiet urgency, digging into a drawer in the small kitchenette.

The apartment was a mess, probably done by those guys he knocked out.

He turned back to the door, still in his makeshift mask. "We should move soon. If they were watching this place, backup might be coming."

"I know," she said, already scribbling something down on the back of an old receipt. Her handwriting was fast but deliberate. She hesitated, then added a second line underneath.

As Adam moved to open the door, she stepped toward the wall "You sure he'll get it?" Adam asked, glancing back.

Claire gave a small smile. "He will.

**Red's heartbeat calmed me once. It still does.**

**Taken to the place where angels sleep.**

Adam read it once, not understanding. He figured it wasn't for him. Didn't need to be.

"You got someplace safe?"

Claire nodded. "Yeah. A place I used to help out. St. Agnes Mission Clinic. It's an old church basement clinic. Nobody knows it still runs.

Adam gave her a quick nod. "Good. Let's go."

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