Creation Of All Things

Family Revelations

Alfred crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as he stared at Gloria—the bossy woman his brother worked for. The so-called Ice Queen.

"Wait, so you're telling me you're our aunt? From our dad's side?"

Gloria smiled, completely unfazed by his suspicion. "Yep. Your father's little sister."

Alfred scoffed. "Then why now? Why not tell us earlier? Even when Dad was alive, you never showed up—not once. And after he died, you've been in our lives, but you still didn't say a word. So why should I believe you now?"

Gloria's smile didn't fade, but there was a glint in her eyes. "That's not something an eight-year-old should be stressing over." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a photo, handing it to him. "Just know that I wouldn't have said anything if your brother hadn't figured it out and confronted me. Since he's busy, I brought proof."

Alfred snatched the picture and glanced down at it.

A younger Gloria stood beside their father, both smiling at the camera.

He blinked, then looked at the framed photo of his father hanging on the wall. He sighed. "…Well, that changes everything."

Gloria chuckled. "I know, right?" She glanced around. "Now, where's that sister of yours? The real Ice Queen?"

Alfred immediately understood—Gloria knew about their abilities. Which could only mean one thing.

Adam met her today. And she really is their aunt.

"She's in Adam's room. Been there all day, obsessing over his 'secrets.'" Alfred said, casually placing the picture on the table.

Gloria raised a brow. "Secrets? What kind?"

Alfred shrugged. "Not really a secret, per se. It's just… for the past two days, every time Adam comes out of his room, he looks different."

Gloria frowned. "Different how?"

Alfred leaned back. "Yesterday, he looked like a supermodel. Today? According to Aria, he looks like a celestial being walking the earth."

Gloria's breath hitched.

She had been around Adam all day, but… now that she thought about it, it was true. She had felt it but never really noticed.

What the hell was going on with Adam?

Without another word, she spun on her heel and strode toward Adam's room.

She needed to see this for herself.

Elsewhere

The warehouse was dead silent for a moment.

Then—

"RUN!"

Adam's voice cut through the tension like a blade. His gaze snapped to the Reaper Mafia members, who were still frozen in place. "I said—RUN! While you still can."

They didn't need to be told twice. The moment his words registered, the men bolted. Crates were knocked over, footsteps pounded against the pavement, and panicked breaths filled the air as they scattered like rats.

That left only Adam and the Blackveil enforcers.

There were about a dozen of them, all superhumans, and they weren't wasting any time.

The first one moved in—fast. His ability was Accelerate, boosting his speed to inhuman levels. In an instant, he was right in front of Adam, fist cocked back, ready to cave his skull in.

But Adam had already seen it.

Too slow.

He leaned back just enough to let the punch graze past his chin. The air pressure alone was strong enough to whip his coat around, but Adam was already countering.

His palm struck out—clean, precise, brutal.

A direct hit to the ribs.

CRACK!

The speedster's body folded, eyes bulging as pain shot through his torso. Before he could even register the agony, Adam grabbed his wrist and yanked.

The man flew.

His body twisted midair before he slammed into the concrete wall behind them—HARD. His body left a dent in the metal before slumping to the ground, unconscious.

"Next."

Two more lunged at him. One had Stonehide, making his skin as tough as reinforced steel. The other? Tremor Hands, capable of generating powerful shockwaves with every punch.

They came in fast, fists flying.

Adam twisted his body, slipping between their attacks like water. A fist aimed at his ribs? He twisted. Another punch toward his face? A slight tilt of his head, and it passed harmlessly by.

Then—his counterattack.

He slammed his palm into the Tremor Hands guy's elbow—SNAP!—twisting it at an unnatural angle. The man screamed, but Adam was already moving, ducking under a wild swing from Stonehide and driving his knee into his gut.

The impact should've done nothing with his hardened body, but Adam twisted at the last second, using just the right amount of force to send a shockwave through his internal organs.

Stonehide wheezed, eyes wide, before collapsing.

Three down.

The others hesitated now, eyes flicking between Adam and their fallen comrades.

"Come on," Adam taunted, rolling his shoulders. "You guys hyped yourselves up for this, right?"

They gritted their teeth, then attacked all at once.

One had Shadow Stride, phasing in and out of the darkness, trying to catch Adam off guard. Another had Flame Veins, his body burning with intense heat, turning every punch into a firebomb.

Adam dodged everything.

Shadow Stride phased behind him—Adam pivoted on his heel and drove an elbow into his gut before he could solidify.

BAM!

Flame Veins swung a blazing fist at Adam's face. Adam leaned to the side at the last second and caught his wrist, twisting just enough to snap it.

CRACK!

A scream. A kick to the face. Another one down.

A brute with Titan Strength charged at Adam, the ground shaking beneath each step. The moment he swung, Adam stepped into his guard—close, suffocating.

He jabbed—quick, efficient, brutal. A precise strike to the throat, making the brute choke.

Then—a backfist to the jaw. A sharp knee to the ribs. A final blow to the solar plexus.

The brute collapsed like a felled tree.

One after another, the Blackveil enforcers fell.

And through it all, Anya just stood there.

Watching.

Studying.

Waiting.

By the time the last man hit the ground, groaning in pain, Adam exhaled slowly and rolled his neck.

"Man, that was underwhelming."

Then—

CLAP.

A slow, deliberate clap.

Anya.

Her amber eyes gleamed with something dangerous.

"Impressive," she said, stepping forward. "You took down all my men like they were nothing."

Adam smirked. "That's because they were nothing."

Anya stopped a few feet away from him, cracking her knuckles.

"Guess that means it's my turn."