Adrian's time in the cell, though confined, had been anything but idle. Hydra had been careful to provide him with distractions—books, primarily—to keep his mind sharp and his intellect engaged. What they didn't realize was how much of a weapon knowledge could be in the hands of someone like him.
On the shelves lining the walls were a collection of texts that ranged from classical literature to scientific treatises, but what truly captivated Adrian were the rare and ancient volumes written in languages long dead. Hydra, in their arrogance, underestimated him when they provided access to such material. They assumed the dampeners would prevent him from fully utilizing his abilities, but they had not accounted for the Sage Force, nor its ceaseless impact on his mind.
He began with Latin texts: Virgil's Aeneid, Ovid's Metamorphoses, and various philosophical treatises from Cicero and Seneca. The elegance of the language and the depth of thought provided a foundation, but it was merely the beginning. Before long, Adrian turned to texts in Ancient Greek, working through Plato's Republic, Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, and obscure fragments from pre-Socratic thinkers like Heraclitus and Parmenides.
When those no longer posed a challenge, he moved to Old Norse, decoding sagas and Eddic poetry, marveling at their brutal beauty and existential insights. The Prose Edda and Hávamál fascinated him, their cryptic verses resonating with the growing depth of his thoughts. He began drawing connections between mythologies, philosophies, and histories, piecing together a broader picture of human understanding.
Hydra, ever eager to test his limits, introduced even more obscure texts. He found himself immersed in cuneiform tablets from Mesopotamia, deciphering Sumerian hymns and Akkadian epics like The Epic of Gilgamesh. The psionic dampeners might have slowed him down, but they couldn't stop the rapid assimilation of knowledge driven by the Sage Force. Every new language he encountered, every cipher or code he unraveled, felt like unlocking another facet of the universe.
One day, he received a collection of Egyptian papyri, written in hieroglyphs and demotic script. Adrian spent weeks pouring over them, reconstructing rituals, hymns, and historical accounts. The rhythm of the ancient words seemed to hum in his mind, aligning with the Sage Force in ways he couldn't entirely explain.
But the most intriguing texts came later—fragments of Aramaic and Sanskrit manuscripts that hinted at mystical practices and arcane philosophies. Among them were esoteric treatises on meditation and mental discipline, originally intended for Hydra's experiments but now a boon to Adrian's growing mastery of his mind. He adapted their techniques into his meditation routines, accelerating the growth of his powers.
The guards, oblivious to the significance of these texts, often muttered about his peculiar reading choices. "What could he possibly want with that old gibberish?" one of them sneered as they delivered yet another ancient manuscript. Adrian had smiled faintly at the remark but said nothing.
In truth, every book, every fragment, every scrap of knowledge was a piece of the puzzle. As he absorbed more and more, patterns began to emerge—patterns Hydra couldn't possibly comprehend. He began to see how the Scepter's energy correlated with certain historical phenomena, how its resonance aligned with forgotten rituals and cosmological theories.
One book in particular stood out: an untranslated volume written in an ancient tongue Hydra scientists couldn't identify. The leather-bound text reeked of age, its brittle pages filled with complex diagrams and alien-looking script. Adrian spent weeks decoding it, piecing together its secrets. What he found within were theories of the mind and energy that mirrored his own experiences with the Sage Force. It spoke of a "fire of thought," a force that could transcend physical limitations and elevate the psyche. The parallels were uncanny.
Adrian had memorized every word, every symbol, knowing Hydra wouldn't allow him to keep it forever. By the time they removed the book, he had already internalized its teachings, integrating them into his growing understanding of himself and his abilities.
Through the books, Adrian wasn't merely passing the time—he was evolving. Each text was a tool, a stepping stone toward something greater. Hydra thought they had given him a distraction. In reality, they had armed him with the knowledge to reshape his cage into a crucible for his transformation.
--
The cell Adrian occupied was comfortable, deceptively so. A small bed with clean sheets, a desk stacked with books, and even a soft armchair. It resembled the quarters of an academic or a monk more than a prison cell. Yet, the shimmering hum of the psionic dampeners embedded in the walls reminded him of what this space truly was—a cage.
But cages, as Adrian had come to understand, were merely constructs of the mind.
He sat cross-legged in the center of the cell, eyes closed, his breathing steady and controlled. To any observer, it might seem like he was meditating—and he was, but not in the traditional sense.
He was experimenting.
The dampeners had been effective at first, reducing his abilities to a whisper. But as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months, he realized something profound: his powers were growing, evolving. The dampeners could suppress them, but they could not stop the inevitable. Through careful practice, he had begun to work around their limitations. He couldn't control minds beyond the cell, but he could still sense them, probe their surface thoughts. And with every meal, every visit, every interaction, he pieced together a picture of the world outside his cell.
Adrian's eyes opened slowly as he heard the approaching footsteps of Dr. List. The Hydra scientist entered with his usual air of nervous authority, clutching a tablet.
"Good morning, Adrian," List began, his voice clipped, as if trying to sound in control.
"Doctor," Adrian replied with a faint smile, his voice smooth, calm, and laced with quiet amusement. "You've come earlier than usual. A problem with your latest project, perhaps?"
List frowned, glancing at his tablet as if to reassert his dominance in the conversation. "I'm not here to discuss—"
"You're worried about the Avengers," Adrian interrupted, tilting his head slightly. "I can see it in the way your hands shake. The pressure is mounting, isn't it? Bases falling one by one, assets disappearing. Your masters must be quite... displeased."
List's expression tightened. "Your insight isn't surprising, given the books we've provided you. But don't think for a second you can manipulate me."
Adrian chuckled softly. "Oh, I don't need to manipulate you, Doctor. You come to me willingly, time and time again. You need me. My insight, as you call it, has saved your projects more than once, hasn't it? And it's why you're here now."
List hesitated, his pride warring with the truth. Finally, he sighed and swiped at his tablet, bringing up a series of complex data streams. "We've been running into a problem with synchronization in our experiments. The subjects—"
"—are rejecting the modifications," Adrian finished for him. "Because your approach is fundamentally flawed. You're focusing too much on physical enhancement and not enough on the mind. The body cannot wield power it does not understand. You must start with cognition, with perception."
List blinked, startled. "How do you—?"
"I read the surface thoughts of the guards who bring me food," Adrian said smoothly, rising from his seated position and stepping closer to the glass that separated them. "I know more about this base than you'd care to admit. Your experiments, your failures, even your successes. And I know about the Scepter."
List stiffened. "You... You've felt it?"
Adrian smiled faintly, his eyes distant. "I've felt it every moment since that day. It's like a flame in the dark, calling to me. Even now, I can sense it. You've moved it closer, haven't you? Within range of my abilities, though you don't realize it. A foolish oversight."
"You're lying," List snapped, though his voice wavered.
"Am I?" Adrian stepped closer to the glass, his gaze piercing. "I know you're holding it in the lower levels, in a reinforced vault. But the stone's power... it leaks, Doctor. Even though you're barriers. It's how I've been able to adapt, to grow stronger despite your dampeners. You thought you'd caged me, but you've only fed the flame."
List's face paled. "If that's true, then..."
"Then the dampeners will fail soon enough," Adrian finished. "And when they do, no cell, no barrier, no power on this earth will contain me. But you already know that, don't you?"
For a moment, there was silence between them. Then Adrian smiled again, his expression almost kind.
"Here's my advice, Doctor. If you want your experiments to succeed, stop treating your subjects like machines. The mind is the key. Harness that, and you might have a chance. Ignore it, and you'll keep failing."
List stared at him, his hands trembling. "You think you're so superior, don't you?"
"I know I am," Adrian replied, his tone calm but unyielding. "And deep down, so do you."
List turned on his heel and left without another word, the door hissing shut behind him.
Adrian returned to his seat, his expression thoughtful. He had planted the seeds he needed. Now, it was only a matter of time before they bore fruit.
And when they did, he would be ready.
--
The heavy door clicked shut behind Dr. List, his footsteps fading into the distance. Adrian remained seated, his fingers pressed together in thought, his golden eyes unreadable as he stared ahead. The artificial lighting of his cell cast long shadows, accentuating the sterile emptiness of the space.
Then, without turning his head, he spoke.
"You can drop the illusion now, Wanda. The good doctor might be blind to such tricks, but I am not."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, with a ripple in the air, the space just beyond the glass flickered and twisted, like a heat mirage dissipating. Scarlet wisps of energy flickered around a slender figure as Wanda Maximoff slowly emerged from the veil of psychic camouflage she had cast over herself.
She regarded him warily, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line.
"How did you see me?" she asked.
Adrian chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly as if amused by the question. "Because, dear Wanda, I see everything. Illusions, distractions, deceptions—such things are mere sleight of hand, tricks for the feeble-minded. But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Wanda stiffened. His voice was calm, almost soothing, yet beneath it was an unmistakable weight—an intelligence that dissected every word, every movement.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Adrian leaned forward slightly, placing his forearms on his knees. His gaze bore into hers, piercing yet oddly… understanding.
"A prisoner, like you. A man granted power by forces beyond human comprehension, yet shackled by those too afraid to grasp what such power means. I have been here longer than you, Wanda. Long enough to understand what List and Strucker are trying to create."
Her expression darkened. "And what is that?"
"Weapons," Adrian said simply, watching her reaction closely. "Something Hydra has always sought to forge—tools of war. The Scepter unlocked something within you and your brother. In me, it unlocked something else. But we are not their creations, no matter how much they try to convince themselves otherwise."
Wanda's fingers twitched, scarlet energy faintly pulsing around them. She wanted to believe him, but trust was not something she offered freely.
"If you have such power, why are you still here?"
Adrian smiled, but something was unsettling about it—like a predator indulging a cub's curiosity. "Because they fear me too much to let me go… and I am not ready to leave just yet."
Wanda frowned. "Not ready?"
"Patience, Wanda. A game is won not by the one who moves first, but by the one who moves best." His eyes glowed faintly, like embers beneath the surface. "And speaking of moves…"
He leaned back against his chair, exhaling in amusement.
"This facility will be attacked in two weeks."
Wanda's breath caught, and she took an unconscious step forward.
"What?"
"Two weeks from now, the Avengers will come. They have been dismantling Hydra bases for months, following a trail of breadcrumbs that leads here. You will finally get what you desire—a chance to meet the man who haunts your nightmares." His lips curled into something between a smirk and a knowing smile. "Tony Stark."
Wanda's hands clenched into fists, her magic swirling in agitation. The mere mention of Stark's name sent a deep-rooted anger through her veins.
"How do you know this?" she demanded.
Adrian gestured vaguely to his temple. "Because I see the threads of fate intertwining, Wanda. I hear the whispers in the minds of those who pass my cell. I have pieced together the pattern of Hydra's downfall. It is inevitable."
Wanda hesitated, her mind reeling. Two weeks. The thought sent her pulse racing.
"If what you say is true, I should warn Baron Strucker. We should prepare."
Adrian sighed, shaking his head slightly. "No, you shouldn't."
She glared at him. "Why not?"
His golden eyes gleamed. "Because Strucker is not a fool. If he is warned too soon, he will flee. And if he flees, you will never see Stark. Your chance at vengeance will slip through your fingers."
That made her pause. Adrian watched her carefully, reading the storm of emotions flickering across her face.
"So the question is, Wanda Maximoff—what matters more to you? Strucker's safety… or your revenge?"
Silence stretched between them. She didn't answer, but she didn't need to. Adrian could already see the decision forming in her mind.
He leaned back, a satisfied expression crossing his face.
"Then, in two weeks… you will have your answer."