The Boys: I'm the Origin of Compound V

Chapter 14: Bloodlines and Lies

The safehouse was heavy with tension, the glow of the vial of Compound V illuminating the table like a silent judge. The team sat in a loose circle, each lost in their own thoughts. Adam leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, his mind churning as he prepared to share his story.

"Well?" Butcher said, breaking the silence. "We've laid it all out. Time for you to spill, mate. Who the bloody hell are you?"

Adam exhaled, the weight of his truth pressing down on him. He glanced at the glowing vial, the memories it dredged up clawing at the edges of his mind.

"You want to know who I am?" he said finally. "Fine. But it's not what you're expecting."

The team leaned forward, their curiosity piqued.

"I wasn't born in this world," Adam began, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. "I came from... somewhere else. A world where people were just people. No supes, no Vought, no insane powers tearing everything apart. It was normal."

Hughie frowned. "Wait, what do you mean 'somewhere else'? Like another country?"

"Another world," Adam corrected. "One day, I was just... gone. One minute I was alive then I was killed buy one of most trusted companions, then I woke up in the middle of a battlefield. The year was 1943."

Frenchie's cigarette froze halfway to his lips. "The 1940s? You're serious?"

Adam nodded. "At first, I thought I'd died and gone to hell. Everything was chaos. Bullets flying, bombs falling... and me, in the middle of it, glowing like a goddamn beacon. My blood was blue, my body was... different. I had powers,my body couldnt handle it and I blacked out," Adam continued, his voice darker now. "When I woke up, I was strapped to a table in a lab. Frederick Vought's lab. He and his people were... fascinated. I was a complete anomaly to them. They couldn't figure out where I came from or how I worked. So they decided to find out the hard way."

The room was silent, the team hanging on his every word.

"They drained me dry," Adam said, his voice filled with bitterness. "Every drop of my blood pumped out, studied, experimented on. They wanted to replicate it, turn it into something they could use. That's how Compound V was born. They called it 'a miracle,' but for me, it was a curse."

Frenchie's eyes narrowed. "And your powers?"

"They shut them down," Adam replied. "Somehow, they blocked me from using anything. I was nothing more than a lab rat to them, something to poke and prod until it broke."

"How long were you there?" Hughie asked hesitantly.

"Months. Maybe years," Adam said, his hands clenching into fists. "Time stopped meaning anything. It was just pain. Endless, unbearable pain. No human could've survived it. But I wasn't human anymore."

"And then?" Butcher asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Adam's gaze hardened. "One day I got to ring some of my blood and I burned it all. My blood, my powers—everything I had left. It triggered something, a one-time ability: time travel. It wasn't precise, and I had no control over where or when I'd end up. I just... escaped."

"And you landed here," Hughie said softly.

Adam nodded. "Yeah. Now I'm stuck in a world that's just as screwed up as the one I left. But at least here, I can fight back."

The room fell silent as the weight of Adam's story settled over the team.

"So, what now?" Butcher asked, his tone unreadable. "You've got no powers, no plan, just a fancy sob story?"

Adam hesitated. He couldn't tell them about the system—the missions, the random abilities, the cold, calculating voice that haunted his thoughts. But he could give them just enough truth to earn their trust.

"Not exactly," he said finally. "I've still got something. When I drink enough Compound V, I can unlock abilities. Random ones. Sometimes they're useful, sometimes they're not. It's unpredictable, but it's better than nothing."

Frenchie raised an eyebrow. "And the powers you take from others?"

Adam shrugged, keeping his voice steady. "Those stick around longer. But they fade eventually, and I can only use one at a time. It's... complicated."

Hughie frowned. "So you're saying you're a ticking time bomb? If you don't get more of this stuff, you're done for?"

"Pretty much," Adam admitted.

Butcher's eyes gleamed with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "Well, that's bloody convenient. But I'll tell you this, mate: if you're lying to us, I'll find out. And when I do, you'll wish Vought had finished you off."

Adam met his gaze, unflinching. "I'm not lying. I want to take them down as much as you do."

"Good," Butcher said, leaning back. "Because now we've got the means to do it."

Bonds in the Dark

Later that night, the team sat around the table, the tension eased slightly by the shared bottle of whiskey. One by one, they opened up, their stories spilling out into the dim light.

Hughie spoke of Robin, his voice breaking as he relived the moment A-Train destroyed her. Frenchie shared glimpses of his haunted past, his regret palpable. Butcher's anger simmered beneath the surface as he recounted the loss of Becca, his vendetta against Homelander driving every word.

Finally, all eyes turned to Adam.

"I've already told you my story," he said quietly. "But there's one thing I didn't mention. The reason I keep fighting. It's not just for revenge, or even to stop Vought. It's because I don't want anyone else to go through what I did. No one deserves that."

The room fell silent, the weight of their shared pain binding them together in a way that words couldn't.

Frenchie raised his glass. "To the bastards who made us—and to the day they regret it."

The team joined him, their glasses clinking in a silent vow.

As the night wore on, Adam sat by the window, staring out at the city lights. The system's voice stirred again, cold and detached.

"Not tonight," Adam whispered, closing his eyes. For now, the fight could wait.