Icarus Meet Adam: A Deus Ex Fanfic

Prologue

I watched him stand before the mirror staring at himself. What was once human flesh all around had become a platitude of augmentations stacked atop each other. A stern gaze crossed his face. His breathing pattern shifted to a more rapid rate as he continued to stare at himself. I could almost smell the anger radiating off of him...it was, dare I say, metallic. I heard the faint sound of servos whirring away as he made a fist. Without warning, he punched directly into the mirror, sending it into a million pieces. I jumped at the sound but didn't dare make a single noise. He didn't need or want my feedback. I held my breath as he crumbled to the floor, not caring if he knelt in shards of broken glass. It's not like he'd feel it. He clearly didn't feel much anywhere anymore. "What did he do to me?" he asked, his voice unusually emotional. I was afraid to answer, it seemed as if he had asked a rhetorical question. "(Y/N)!" I snapped back into reality. "Adam..." I trailed off. "You're alive. That's all I could ever want." He glared at me, and for a moment, my blood ran cold. I'd never seen Adam angry with me before, and I never wanted to see it again. "I'm alive, alright, but I never..." he trailed off. I knew exactly what he was going to say. Despite his rage, he didn't want to finish his sentence for my sake. He exhaled sharply and stood up, hobbling to the counter to get himself some whiskey. I hated it when he drank like that, but...there was no stopping him, and it's not like Sarif needed him into work anytime soon. He'd only just left the hospital. As his closest friend and confidant, I feel the need to be here as much as possible. I watched him hiss and spit his way into an incoherent argument with himself, the shot glass cracking from his augmented hands. I wanted to tell him that he was applying too much pressure to the glass, but fear kept me silent. The glass shattered, sending whiskey and broken shards of glass onto the counter. I saw Adam observe himself in the reflection. He spat at his image, and limped off to his bedroom, leaving me with shards of glass to clean...or were they the feathers of the wings of Icarus?