CHAPTER 9: THE HUMAN SHIELD AND A RECKLESS ACT OF LOYALTY
The air in ancient Egypt was thick with dust, heat, and the faint, unmistakable scent of ancient history. The Waverider had deposited them near a sprawling, half-buried temple complex, its sandstone walls shimmering under the relentless desert sun. This was the target: the heart of Savage's original power, the site of the meteor strike that had cursed him (and blessed Kendra and Carter) with immortality. Their mission: to reach the central chamber, find the altar described in the ancient texts, and prepare it for the counter-ritual. The celestial alignment was only hours away, providing a narrow window of opportunity.
Adam, despite the oppressive heat, felt a surge of adrenaline. This was the real deal. No more hiding in the shadows, no more subtle nudges. This was a direct assault on Savage's power base. He was wearing lighter, more appropriate clothing for the climate, but still opted for his comfortable jeans and a sturdy, light-colored shirt – a marked improvement from his standard hoodie in the desert.
"Alright, team," Rip commanded, his voice sharp with renewed determination. "According to the scrolls, the core of the temple is heavily guarded, both by Savage's cultists and arcane protections. Stick together. No heroics, Mr. Stiels."
Adam grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "No heroics? Rip, I'm practically a walking heroism magnet. It's not my fault. It just happens. Like static cling, but with more explosions."
Sara, walking beside him, elbowed him gently. "Just try not to get yourself killed. Or me. I'd prefer to save the world with you in one piece."
"That's sweet, Canary," Adam replied, his voice a low, teasing murmur. "You really do care."
She just rolled her eyes, but a faint smile played on her lips. "Don't push it."
They navigated the crumbling corridors of the temple, the air growing colder, heavier, as they delved deeper. The walls were adorned with intricate hieroglyphs, depicting ancient rituals and celestial events – all confirming the historical research they'd done. Their intel confirmed that Savage himself was not yet at the temple, but his most devoted and magically empowered cultists were there, preparing for the very celestial alignment the Legends intended to exploit.
Suddenly, a hidden door slid open, revealing a cavernous chamber ahead. It was filled with robed cultists, chanting in the guttural language Adam had heard in the Himalayas. In the center, on a raised dais, sat a smaller, pulsating orb, glowing with a malevolent red light – a minor conduit for Savage's power. And standing guard around it were Savage's elite, magically imbued fanatics, their eyes glowing faintly, their movements faster, stronger.
"This is it," Rip whispered, drawing his blaster. "Savage's inner circle. They're channeling his power through that orb. Take them down!"
The Legends burst into the chamber, a whirlwind of coordinated chaos. Sara, a deadly ballet of martial arts, disarmed and incapacitated cultists with breathtaking speed. Mick unleashed bursts of fire, creating diversion and incinerating threats. Ray zipped in his Atom suit, providing cover fire and taking down enemies with precision blasts. Snart moved with chilling efficiency, freezing weapons and immobilizing foes. Firestorm, once merged, unleashed powerful energy waves, pushing back the cultists and disrupting their chants.
Adam, empowered by his improved telekinesis and still-working regeneration, threw himself into the fray. He was reckless, daring, relying on his healing factor. He took a hit from a cultist's staff directly to the head, staggering for a moment as his skull regenerated, then sent the cultist flying with a telekinetic shove. He disarmed another by twisting their ceremonial dagger from their grasp, then levitated it to pin another cultist to a wall. He was everywhere, a chaotic, unkillable force, drawing fire, creating openings for his teammates.
He saw a cultist raise a hand, muttering an incantation, directing a wave of dark energy directly at Jax, who was momentarily vulnerable while trying to re-stabilize his merge with Stein. Adam didn't hesitate. 'Not this time. Not again. Not while I'm here.'
He launched himself forward, a primal roar tearing from his throat. "Jax! Get down!"
He put himself directly in the path of the magical blast. The dark energy slammed into him with brutal force, a familiar, searing pain erupting in his chest, worse than the last time. It felt like being hit by a freight train made of pure spite. His body spasmed, and he felt every fiber of his being resisting the unnatural energy, struggling to regenerate. He heard a collective gasp from the team, Rip's alarmed shout, Sara's sharp cry of "Adam!"
He stumbled back, falling to one knee, coughing violently. Blood welled up around the newly formed, gaping wound in his chest – a deep, charred crater where the magical energy had hit. His regeneration was working, fighting with furious effort, but it was slow, agonizingly slow against the mystical assault. The pain was immense, overwhelming, a level of agony that eclipsed anything he'd felt before. It was like his very soul was being ripped apart, then slowly, painstakingly, stitched back together by an invisible, red-hot needle.
But he was still conscious. He was still breathing. And Jax was safe.
Sara Lance, seeing Adam fall, felt a jolt of ice-cold dread grip her heart. She had seen him take hits before, seen him regenerate, but this was different. This was raw, agonizing pain, visible in his contorted face. He had thrown himself in front of Jax, taken a magical blast that could have killed her teammate, a blast she herself would have struggled to deflect. He had just offered himself as a human shield, not with a quip, but with a roar, with an absolute, selfless loyalty that left her stunned.
Enraged, Sara moved with a speed and ferocity that surprised even the remaining cultists. She was a blur of vengeance, her staff snapping and cracking, taking down the magically empowered foes with brutal, efficient strikes. She didn't hesitate, didn't hold back. Her eyes, usually calm and calculating in a fight, burned with a fierce, protective fire. She cleared a path, reaching Adam in seconds.
"Adam!" she knelt beside him, her voice laced with an uncharacteristic tremor. "Are you okay? What did you do?!"
Adam coughed, a pained gasp. His regeneration was working, slowly sealing the horrific wound, knitting flesh and bone with agonizing slowness. "Just… being efficient, Canary," he wheezed, managing a weak, blood-flecked grin. "Why let a perfectly good regeneration go to waste? Besides… someone had to make sure you guys don't get vaporized. My job, you know."
The wound was still visible, raw and red, but it was shrinking, the skin crawling closed. The team, having finished off the remaining cultists, gathered around him, their faces pale with shock and concern.
"By the heavens, Mr. Stiels!" Professor Stein exclaimed, looking at the regenerating wound with horrified fascination. "You took the full force of that blast! Your regeneration is fighting against incredible odds!"
Ray, rushing over, his suit glowing, gasped. "It's even more potent than the last time! The magical residue is still there, but your cells are adapting, learning to counteract it!"
Mick, uncharacteristically, didn't grunt or mock. He just stared at Adam, his rough face etched with something akin to respect. "Idiot. Could've died."
"Almost did," Adam admitted, trying to sit up. The pain was still immense, but the healing was finally accelerating. The charred flesh receded, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin. In less than a minute, the horrific wound was gone, leaving only the faint echo of agony. He felt utterly drained, but whole.
Snart, ever the detached observer, merely shook his head. "Reckless. But effective. You're a damn walking meat shield, Stiels."
"It's a gift," Adam managed, finally able to fully sit up, albeit unsteadily. He was exhausted, but the immediate threat was gone. "Now, did we, uh, secure the orb? Or did I just get magically assaulted for nothing?"
Rip, looking both relieved and utterly exasperated, knelt beside him. "The orb is contained, Mr. Stiels. You… you saved Mr. Jackson. And you revealed a remarkable capacity for selfless sacrifice. Albeit, a terrifyingly dangerous one."
Adam just grinned, a little wobbly. "That's just how I roll, Captain. The terrifyingly dangerous, unkillable, sarcastic meat shield. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Sara, however, didn't return his usual banter. She just stared at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock, awe, and a depth of emotion that made his usual flippant shield waver. He had seen fear in her eyes before, but never for him. And now, seeing the relief, the raw concern… it hit him harder than any magical blast.
She reached out, gently touching his chest where the wound had been, her fingers tracing the now-smooth skin. "You… you really did that for Jax? For us?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
Adam looked into her eyes, no sarcasm, no jokes, just the raw truth. "Yeah, Canary. I did. You guys are my family. I'm not losing anyone else. Not if I can help it. Besides," he tried to inject a bit of his usual humor, though it was still strained, "you know how hard it is to find good friends when you're a time-displaced, highly sarcastic walking paradox. Can't let them go easily."
A slow, genuine smile spread across Sara's face, a rare, beautiful sight that reached her eyes. She leaned in, a quick, almost imperceptible press of her lips against his cheek. "You're an idiot, Adam Stiels," she whispered, pulling back. "My idiot."
Adam felt a flush spread across his face, warmth replacing the lingering ache of the magical attack. 'Okay, wow. That was… unexpected. And good. Very good. Definitely worth the temporary agony. Maybe even worth being a 'meat shield.' '
Rip cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden intimacy. "Right then! Now that Mr. Stiels has proven himself to be a remarkably resilient, if unbelievably reckless, human shield, perhaps we can focus on the mission at hand. The celestial alignment begins in less than an hour. We need to reach the central altar and prepare the counter-ritual. Let's move!"
Adam, still buzzing from Sara's touch, pushed himself to his feet, feeling a renewed surge of energy. The pain was gone, the exhaustion fading. He had faced magic, almost died, and proved his loyalty. And he had, against all odds, managed to break through Sara Lance's formidable emotional walls, even if it was just for a moment. This was more than a mission now. This was personal. And he was ready.
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