DC: Crystalizing

Adrian wasn't sure how long he'd been in Cadmus. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months. Maybe longer. Time didn't matter in the hollow, sterile corridors of the facility, where the lights never dimmed, and the screams of the other subjects echoed endlessly. But Adrian remembered everything. 

That was his curse. 

He remembered the faces of the guards who dragged him in, their gloved hands gripping his arms so tightly he thought they'd snap. He remembered the first time they strapped him to a table, the steel so cold it burned his skin, the sharp sting of the first needle they jammed into his veins. He remembered the hollow, clinical voice of the man who stood over him, calling him "Subject Kr-2" like his name was nothing more than a number. 

That man was Emil Hamilton. 

Adrian memorized him the moment he saw him. Hamilton wasn't like the other scientists, the ones with trembling hands and darting eyes, the ones who looked like they might feel guilt for what they were doing. No, Hamilton had the calm, steady presence of someone who thought he was doing the right thing, someone who believed he was saving the world. 

Hamilton wore a crisp lab coat, always spotless, his silver-rimmed glasses perched perfectly on his nose. His hair was salt-and-pepper, neatly combed, his movements precise and methodical. When he spoke, his voice was smooth, almost soothing, as though he thought he could talk Adrian into forgetting the pain. 

But Adrian wouldn't forget. He couldn't.

The experiments started simple—blood tests, scans, electrodes attached to his skull to measure his brain activity. Hamilton took notes on everything, scribbling in his leather-bound notebook while Adrian sat silently in his cage, glaring at him. Adrian didn't give him the satisfaction of asking questions. He didn't ask what they wanted from him or why they'd taken him. He already knew. He'd pieced it together from the scraps of conversations he overheard, from the clipped phrases Hamilton exchanged with the other scientists.

Cadmus.

A secret branch of the U.S. government. Their mission was to counter the rising power of metahumans—heroes, villains, anyone with abilities beyond human comprehension. The Justice League had pushed the world into a new era, one where gods walked the earth, and Cadmus wanted to make sure they weren't the only ones with power. 

That's what Adrian was to them. A test subject. A stepping stone to whatever weapon they were trying to build.

"This is for the greater good, you know," Hamilton said one day, his calm voice cutting through the mechanical hum of the lab. Adrian was strapped to the table again, his wrists and ankles bound so tightly the restraints bit into his skin. "If we're going to survive in a world of superhumans, we have to level the playing field. You'll be a part of something much bigger than yourself."

Adrian glared at him, his jaw clenched. "Go to hell," he spat.

Hamilton didn't even blink. "Hell is subjective, Mr. Wells. Some would say we're already there."

The tests grew worse with time. Hamilton pushed Adrian's body to its limits, then beyond them. Needles, scalpels, and machines were Adrian's constant companions, cutting into him, filling him with chemicals that made his blood burn and his muscles spasm. Every experiment left him weaker, sicker, but somehow, Adrian survived. He watched the other subjects—the ones who didn't make it—slumped in their cages, their bodies limp and lifeless. 

But Adrian wasn't going to die. He refused. 

Hamilton seemed almost impressed by his resilience. "Fascinating," he said one day, his pen scratching across the page of his notebook. "Your body adapts far better than most. You might even survive the next phase."

Adrian wanted to lunge at him, to wrap his hands around his throat and squeeze until that calm, infuriating voice disappeared forever. But the restraints held him down, and the drugs in his veins made his limbs feel like lead.

Then came the liquid crystal. 

Adrian had already been through so much pain that he thought nothing could surprise him anymore. He was wrong. 

Hamilton stood over him, holding a syringe filled with a substance that shimmered like molten glass, its surface rippling with faint, unnatural light. Adrian's stomach churned just looking at it.

"This is a prototype," Hamilton explained, his voice as calm as ever. "A nanocrystalline compound designed to bond with organic tissue at a cellular level. If successful, it will make you a meta human. If not…" He adjusted his glasses. "Well, let's see how resilient you really are."

Adrian gritted his teeth. "You're not gonna break me," he growled.

Hamilton smiled faintly. "We'll see."

He plunged the needle into Adrian's chest. 

The pain was immediate and all-consuming. It felt like fire spreading through his veins, like shards of glass tearing through every nerve in his body. Adrian arched off the table, his screams raw and guttural. The crystal wasn't just in his blood—it was changing him. He could feel it seeping into his bones, his muscles, his very cells, twisting them into something foreign. 

"Remarkable," Hamilton murmured, watching as Adrian's body convulsed. "His body isn't rejecting it. The integration is… astonishing."

Adrian barely heard him over the roaring in his ears. His vision blurred, his chest heaving as he fought to stay conscious. He wasn't going to die. He wasn't going to let this kill him. But the pain was unbearable, unrelenting, like his body was being torn apart and rebuilt from the inside out.

When the procedure was over, Adrian lay motionless on the table, his skin cold and damp with sweat. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling like a broken machine. Hamilton stood over him, scribbling notes on his clipboard.

"You've done well, Mr. Wells," he said, his tone almost…admiring. "Most wouldn't have survived that. You're proving to be quite the investment."

Adrian's fingers twitched against the restraints, his nails digging into his palms. He wanted to lunge at Hamilton, to rip that smug expression off his face. But his body wouldn't obey him. Not yet.

Hamilton turned to leave, pausing at the door to glance back. "Rest up," he said. "The next phase begins tomorrow."

Adrian closed his eyes, his breath rattling in his chest. He wasn't going to die. Not yet. 

But one day, he would make Emil Hamilton pay for every second of this hell. 

[ Emil Hamilton " Doctor at Cadmus" ]

Author Note: More chapters on [email protected]/LordCampione.