Chapter 11: The Financial Imperative and a Twisted Test (Refined)
Chapter 11: The Financial Imperative and a Twisted Test (Refined)
The hum of S.T.A.R. Labs, once a comforting thrum of scientific discovery, now felt like a constant, low-level migraine for Adam Stiels. The aftershocks of his latest death, the one that snagged him Minor Perception Manipulation, still rippled through his nervous system. His vision occasionally shimmered, a phantom echo of the Artful Dodger's illusions, and a dull, insistent ache pulsed behind his eyes. He slumped in a lab chair, nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee, his usual sarcastic banter notably muted. The Immortal System had delivered its ultimatum: two more deaths for Upgrade 1, but with a brand-new, infuriating caveat: a "financial requirement." Apparently, cosmic AIs had bills to pay, and Adam was the designated cosmic piggy bank.
"So, my 'Neural Network' is giving me a really obnoxious pop-up," Adam grumbled, staring blankly at a holographic display of Central City's traffic patterns. He felt a phantom flicker of a non-existent pop-up ad for 'Cosmic Loans, Low Interest Rates!'. "Apparently, to get my next big power upgrade, I need to… pay for it. Yeah, you heard that right. My life-saving, skill-granting, constantly-trying-to-kill-me symbiotic system has decided it needs a trust fund. Or at least, some serious investment capital. Because apparently, cosmic abilities aren't free." He took a long, slow sip of coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. "And it's not just a 'hey, buy me a pizza' kind of payment. It's… significant. Like 'buy me a small island and fill it with very rare, very specific artisanal cheeses' significant."
Cisco Ramon, who had been meticulously calibrating a new set of seismic sensors, spun his chair around, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and, naturally, intense curiosity. "A financial requirement? Your AI is extorting you? That's… that's next-level! Is it, like, cryptocurrency? Or does it prefer cold, hard cash? Does it have a bank account? Because, Adam, this changes everything! This is a completely new paradigm for sentient artificial intelligences! We could apply this! We could monetize… immortality! Think of the possibilities! We could fund S.T.A.R. Labs for decades!" His voice crescendoed with a familiar blend of scientific zeal and barely contained greed, his hands already typing furiously on his tablet, running algorithms for "Cosmic AI Fiscal Models."
Caitlin Snow, who had been observing Adam with a worried intensity, her own tablet displaying his fluctuating neurological readings, set it down with a soft thud. Her lips were pressed into a tight, thin line. "Cisco, this isn't a funding opportunity! This is an unknown entity, inside Adam's body, making bizarre demands and forcing him to put himself in even more danger! This 'financial requirement' means it's just another form of control! It's escalating, Adam! What happens if you can't 'pay'? What kind of 'disciplinary measures' does a cosmic AI have in mind when it comes to financial penalties? Does it, like, make your heart randomly beat to the rhythm of polka music? Or worse, does it just… shut you down?" Her voice was tight with fear, her concern for Adam clearly outweighing any scientific intrigue.
Barry Allen, who had just zipped into the Cortex from a speed training session, his uniform still slightly disheveled, skidded to a halt, his brows furrowed in confusion. He had witnessed Adam's last, terrifying death, and the lingering mental distress was evident. "Wait, a financial requirement? For powers? That's… that's messed up, Adam. So you have to, like, commit a crime to get stronger? That goes against… everything we stand for! We're supposed to be stopping criminals, not creating them to pay your cosmic bills!" His voice was laced with a deep moral discomfort, his inherent sense of justice clashing violently with Adam's peculiar reality. He clenched his fists, a mixture of frustration and bewildered anger in his eyes.
Adam sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, Flashy, it's not like I'm going to rob a bank. My system is very specific. It needs a particular kind of 'energy transfer' that happens during a specific 'acquisition event'. And apparently, that event needs to have a monetary component. Think of it as a very expensive, very painful, very public, cosmic transaction. And it seems to have already found its target for me. Which is convenient, I guess. Less legwork." He felt the distinct hum of the System, a new, almost predatory eagerness radiating from its core.
[SYSTEM ALERT: PRIMARY MISSION – ENGAGE WITH DESIGNATED KILLER. KILLER: SILAS CROWE (THE FORGER). OBJECTIVE: ACQUIRE SKILL – MINOR VALUE MANIPULATION. DEATH COUNT: 8/20 FOR UPGRADE 1. FINANCIAL REQUIREMENT: 1,000,000 CREDIT UNITS. ENSURE KILLER'S POWER IS DIRECTLY APPLIED AT MOMENT OF DEATH. OPTIMAL LOCATION: CENTRAL CITY MINT.]
Adam's eyes widened, a genuine flicker of shock crossing his face. "Silas Crowe? The Forger? The guy who can make perfect, untraceable counterfeits just by touching them? And the Central City Mint? Seriously? My system wants me to die at the Mint by a guy who makes fake money? And a million 'credit units'?" He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous tremor in his fingers. "Okay, this is either genius or completely insane. Probably both. And a million? That's… a lot of zeroes. I don't even have a million thoughts on a good day, let alone money."
A million? For Minor Value Manipulation? Does this mean I can make my coffee taste like gold? Or turn my dirty laundry into a diamond-encrusted toga? This System is getting weirdly specific with its demands. And why the Mint? Oh, right. Because it wants to be extra dramatic. Of course. It's a cosmic AI with a flair for the theatrical.
"Silas Crowe, huh?" Cisco muttered, already pulling up police files and news reports. "Used to be a low-level art forger before the explosion. Now he can perfectly replicate anything he touches, including currency. The police have been trying to track him, but his fakes are untraceable, completely indistinguishable from the real thing. A million 'credit units'... he must be targeting something truly massive. Like the entire gold reserve." His eyes gleamed, a flicker of excitement returning as he pieced together the puzzle. "Wait, Adam, you said he has to apply his power directly at the moment of your death, right? So, he has to, like, touch you while you die, and somehow transfer a million 'credit units' into your system? Is that how it works?"
"That's my best guess," Adam admitted, rubbing his temples, a headache blooming behind his eyes. "The System is vague on the 'how' but very precise on the 'what.' He needs to be actively 'forging' or 'transmuting' something of high value directly onto me as I kick the bucket. Like, he needs to try and turn me into a million dollars. Or a million diamonds. Or a million very rare, very valuable stamps. Whatever it is, it needs to be direct. And painful. As usual." He felt the weight of the task, the sheer impossibility of orchestrating this. This wasn't just about dying; it was about manipulating a criminal, an entire crime scene, and the very concept of value.
Barry, his expression grim, stepped forward. "Adam, we can't let you do this. We can stop Crowe without you having to… to die. This is too much. This isn't what a hero does. You're sacrificing yourself for… for a power upgrade that costs a fortune? It just doesn't feel right. It feels… dirty." He looked at Adam with a mixture of desperate concern and moral conflict, his fists clenching and unclenching.
"Look, Flashy, it's not a choice!" Adam snapped back, a flash of genuine frustration in his eyes. He hated having to explain this, hated the judgment he saw in Barry's expression. "The System doesn't offer a 'negotiable terms and conditions' option. It gives orders. And its 'disciplinary measures' are not something I want to experience again. Trust me, a fragmented skill and feeling like my brain cells are playing whack-a-mole isn't exactly my idea of a fun Tuesday. This is how it works. And if I don't get this upgrade, if I don't pay this 'fee,' then… who knows what happens? To me. To everything. This is for the greater good, Barry. Even if the 'greater good' requires me to be turned into a high-value counterfeit."
Caitlin stepped between them, her gaze firm, but her voice soft. "Barry, we don't understand the full scope of Adam's situation. We just know he's been through incredible trauma, and this 'system' is controlling him. Adam, we will help you. We will find a way to make this work. But we need to minimize the risks. We need a plan that ensures your safety, as much as possible, and that prevents Crowe from actually getting away with anything." Her eyes held a deep, unwavering resolve, her hand gently touching Adam's arm, a silent promise of support.
Adam looked at her, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. He saw her fear, but also her unwavering resolve. Okay, team. Time to get creative. How do you make a guy who makes fake money kill you by turning you into a million dollars, at a mint, without letting him actually steal anything? This is going to be trickier than explaining cryptocurrency to my grandma.
They tracked Silas Crowe to the Central City Mint. The building, a fortress of steel and reinforced concrete, was already compromised. The Artful Dodger's illusions had been disorienting, but Crowe's ability was more insidious. Security systems were bypassed, alarms silently deactivated, as Crowe, a nervous, precise man with dark, darting eyes, worked his way through the vaults. He could replicate anything perfectly, not just coins or bills, but also the very essence of value.
"He's aiming for the gold reserves!" Cisco's voice crackled through the comms, his fingers flying across his tablet, displaying a live schematic of the Mint's layout. "He's going to try and turn the entire gold supply into… something else. Something valuable, but untraceable. We need to stop him before he gets to the main vault!"
Barry, a red blur, was already in motion, phasing through walls, trying to intercept Crowe. But Crowe was slippery, his movements precise, almost ghost-like, as he replicated security keycards, opened reinforced doors, and left perfect, worthless copies in his wake.
"My 'neural network' is telling me he's heading for Vault 7!" Adam yelled, sprinting through the corridors. He felt the insistent hum of the System, guiding him, pulling him towards his target. "Barry, you cut him off at the main entrance! I'll go through the ventilation shaft! I need to get close! He needs to touch me with that power!"
Caitlin's voice, laced with frantic worry, screamed through his comms. "Adam, no! The ventilation shafts are unstable! And if he touches you with that power, it's not just a physical death! It's an energetic transference! We don't know what that will do to your system! It could destabilize your entire molecular structure!"
Adam ignored her, a grim determination set on his face. He found an access panel to a ventilation shaft, subtly used his Minor Wind Manipulation to loosen the grate, and squeezed through. He crawled through the dusty, cramped ducts, the metallic tang of the air filling his nostrils, the hum of the System growing stronger, a cold, eager presence. He saw Crowe below him, hands glowing faintly, touching a solid gold bar, which shimmered and transformed into a flawless, seemingly genuine, but ultimately worthless, diamond. The sheer replication of value was astonishing.
"Alright, Forger!" Adam yelled, dropping down from the ventilation shaft, landing with a grunt, his body aching from the impact. He stood directly in front of Crowe, hands slightly out, making himself an obvious target, a strange, sarcastic offering. "Nice trick! But honestly, turning gold into diamonds? That's so last season! Have you considered, like, turning lead into philosophical concepts? Much more cutting-edge! And way harder to trace! Also, my financial advisor says your credit score is probably terrible."
Silas Crowe spun, his eyes blazing with fury, his face contorted in a mask of pure, concentrated greed and irritation. "You! You dare to interrupt me?! I will turn you into something worthless! Something utterly without value!" He lunged, his glowing hands reaching for Adam. Adam didn't even try to dodge. He braced himself, a grimace on his face. This was it. The price of power. The unravelling of normalcy, one agonizing, financially dubious death at a time.
As Crowe's hands slammed into his chest, Adam felt an excruciating, searing pain, not just physical, but energetic. His body vibrated violently, his cells shimmering, then burning, as Crowe's power tried to transmute his very being. He felt a profound sense of value being drained, then replaced, corrupted, transformed. His skin shimmered, turning to what felt like solid gold, then diamonds, then crumbling dust, all in an instant. He felt his essence being converted, quantified, and then spent. The agony was immense, a full-body transformation, a complete redefinition of his existence, before everything went dark.
Okay. That was… surprisingly thorough. And deeply unsettling. Being turned into a cosmic credit card transaction is definitely a new one for the 'ways I don't want to die again' list. And I definitely don't feel like a million bucks. More like a million dust bunnies.
Darkness. Silence.
Then, the familiar, welcome ting. The cold, mechanical voice of the System, a note of triumph in its otherwise monotone delivery.
[SYSTEM ALERT: HOST DEATH – CONFIRMED. KILLER: SILAS CROWE. SKILL ACQUIRED: MINOR VALUE MANIPULATION. DEATH COUNT: 9/20 FOR UPGRADE 1. FINANCIAL REQUIREMENT – MET. UPGRADE PROTOCOL – READY FOR INITIATION. TWO MORE DEATHS REMAIN FOR PRIMARY UPGRADE. WARNING: NEXT DEATH MUST BE TARGETED FOR FINAL SKILL ACQUISITION BEFORE UPGRADE INITIATION. COMPLIANCE – REQUIRED.]
YES! Minor Value Manipulation! Now I can make my sarcastic comments seem priceless! Or, you know, make myself look like a really expensive piece of art. Nine down, one to go! And the 'financial requirement' is met! Take that, cosmic loan sharks! Now, about this 'final skill acquisition' before 'Upgrade Initiation.' Sounds like a final exam. And I really hope it's not a pop quiz on obscure historical figures.
Adam gasped, his eyes snapping open. He was lying on the cold, hard floor of the vault, his body aching, but whole. Barry, a red blur, had just apprehended Silas Crowe, securing him with a set of custom meta-cuffs. Caitlin and Cisco rushed towards Adam, their faces etched with familiar concern, though Caitlin's had an added layer of desperate relief.
"Adam! You're… you're alive!" Barry exclaimed, a mix of exhaustion and profound relief in his voice as he skidded to a halt beside him. "What… what was that?! You looked like you were turning into a statue! And then dust! You scared me half to death!" He offered a hand to help Adam up, his gaze filled with a bewildered worry.
"Yeah, just an experimental art project," Adam wheezed, pushing himself up, feeling the strange, new sensation of a faint, almost imperceptible ability to sense value, to subtly shift it. "Turns out, I make a terrible sculpture. Too much sarcasm, not enough marble. Good news is, I think I just unlocked the ability to appreciate the true worth of a good nap. And also, I can apparently… make things seem more or less valuable. Very, very subtly. Like, I can make a nickel look like a million bucks. For about a second. And the System says it's happy with my… payment. So, that's a win." He managed a weak grin, but his eyes were still wide, a subtle tremor running through his body, the lingering sense of his own transmutation unsettling him.
Caitlin knelt beside him, immediately grabbing her scanner, her movements precise and quick. Her hands trembled slightly as she ran the device over him. Her face was a mask of concern, her eyes wide with a mixture of scientific fascination and pure, unadulterated fear. "Adam, your cellular structure experienced extreme energetic fluctuations! Your body was attempting to reconfigure at a molecular level! This 'value manipulation' is incredibly invasive! This is unlike anything we've seen before! It's dangerous, Adam! Every time, it takes a toll!" She dropped to her knees beside him, her hand going to his arm, her touch gentle, almost desperate, her gaze fixed on his.
Cisco, however, was staring at his tablet, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and growing understanding. "He's right, Caitlin! The System just confirmed it! 'Financial Requirement Met'! Adam, you literally paid for this skill with your life! That's… that's crazy! And it says 'Upgrade Protocol Ready'! What does that even mean? What's the 'Merge Perk'? This is getting… too real, Adam. This 'system' of yours, it's not just a power-up, it's a living, breathing, capitalist entity!" His voice was low, filled with a grim, almost horrified awe. The true cost of Adam's power, the System's control, was becoming undeniably clear.
Adam met Caitlin's gaze, then Cisco's. The usual flippancy was gone, replaced by a profound weariness. "Yeah, well, apparently cosmic capitalism is a thing," he admitted, his voice quiet, filled with a raw exhaustion. "And the 'Merge Perk'? I don't know. But the System sounded pretty excited about it. Like it's going to combine something. Or someone. And yeah, it's… it's getting harder. Each time. The pain lingers. The fear feels… more real. But it's almost done. One more death. One more skill. Then the upgrade. Then maybe… maybe I can finally figure out what this whole 'system' is actually planning. And maybe get some real answers. Because I'm tired of being the universe's most expensive, self-destructing ATM." He closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of the System's control and the cumulative trauma pressing down on him. The unraveling of normalcy was now fully apparent, a tangled mess of impossible powers, ethical dilemmas, and a cosmic price tag.