Black Adam didn't feel any warmth or kindness in Clark's trademark smile. Instead, it heightened his suspicion. He couldn't shake the sense that both Clark and the Sentry had hidden motives, especially after the Sentry's pointed comments about "those profiting off the superhero name." Black Adam sensed ill intent, and his instincts, honed by divine power, told him he was being calculated against.
Black Adam trusted this intuition. It wasn't mere paranoia; it was a gift from the gods. Even other deities wouldn't match his ability in this regard.
"First, I need to understand this world better. Let me adapt and gather information about them," Black Adam thought, casting one last glance at Clark. "And those damn wizards... that old fool. If they're still alive, I'll need to locate them. If they've retreated to the Rock of Eternity, I'll need a conduit to find them."
Clark's earlier suspicions were correct: Black Adam's power was deeply tied to the forces of Shazam. Unlike the Avengers who drew on European gods for their power, Black Adam's strength came from the Egyptian pantheon—the same gods tied to Heliopolis, which Clark and Robert had visited before.
However, Clark hadn't recognized the divine energy within Black Adam because it came from gods who had long since left Heliopolis. Their absence had made their energy unfamiliar, even to those well-versed in divine matters, like Wonder Woman.
"This era seems far more prosperous than mine," Black Adam muttered as he landed in the bustling streets of New York. Yet, as he observed the crowded thoroughfares, he noticed something odd: there were fewer people than he expected.
Even stranger was the reaction of the pedestrians. As soon as they saw him, they stepped aside, avoiding him with wary glances and cold expressions. Their body language screamed fear, as if his very presence heralded disaster.
Black Adam couldn't understand it. True, his attire was unconventional, but it wasn't dramatically different from what Clark or the Sentry had worn. Why did people instinctively shy away? Could they somehow sense his divine aura or his reputation for ruthlessness?
The answer was simpler than Black Adam realized: he was a victim of mistaken identity.
His uniform, though distinct, bore similarities to those of the Seven. The lightning bolt emblem on his chest, while unique to him, reminded people of Vought's attempts to mimic the Avengers. Ordinary citizens mistook him for another of Vought's "superheroes," whose exploits often left collateral damage in their wake.
Over time, the Seven had earned a reputation for chaos, even when ostensibly helping people. The average person had learned to steer clear of anyone who might belong to their ranks—unless they were devoted fans.
"Hey! You new?" a tattooed young man approached Black Adam with a friendly smile, completely ignoring the wide berth others gave him.
"What?" Black Adam turned to the man, surprised. "What are you talking about?"
"Did they pump you with more juice than Homelander, or are you just naturally built like a tank?" the young man asked, scrutinizing Black Adam. "You're jacked! Way more than anyone else in the Seven. Honestly, I don't think even Superman was this ripped."
"Superman?" The name caught Black Adam's attention, and he filed it away as a potential lead.
"Man, I've always wanted to look like you, but no matter how much I work out, it's just not happening—"
"Swish!"
Before the man could finish, Black Adam grabbed him by the collar and shot into the air. Within seconds, they were far above the city, vanishing from view.
Back on the ground, the reactions were mixed.
"Serves him right. Should've kept his distance from the Seven," one onlooker muttered, shaking their head.
"I can't believe he approached him like that," another added. "Now he's been abducted. What an idiot."
For most people, any interaction with someone resembling the Seven was a risk not worth taking. Even if this man wasn't part of the Seven, they figured it was better to assume the worst.
High in the air, the tattooed man was anything but afraid. Instead, he whooped with delight.
"This is amazing! Flying feels incredible! Man, I've always wanted to experience this!"
Black Adam frowned, momentarily thrown off by the man's enthusiasm.
"Can you drop me and catch me again? I want to feel the freefall!" the man shouted, his voice full of excitement.
"…" Black Adam was speechless. For a moment, he suspected the Sentry and Clark had planted this lunatic just to rattle him.
"Now, I'll ask the questions. You'll answer. Understand?" Black Adam's voice turned cold, his aura intensifying as he stared at the man. "If you don't comply, I'll gladly grant your earlier request—without catching you."
The man's bravado vanished instantly. "N-no! Ask anything you want! I'll tell you everything I know!"
He stammered, clearly realizing Black Adam's threat was no joke.
"Tell me about Superman. And the Sentry. And what did you mean earlier about me being a 'new member'?" Black Adam demanded.
His divine aura grew heavier, pressing down on the tattooed man, who struggled to breathe under its weight. Faced with the very real threat of death, the man abandoned his flippant attitude and gave earnest answers.
He explained Superman's history, though his personal bias crept into the details. "Superman was supposed to be the strongest hero ever, but honestly, I don't see the big deal…"
Black Adam gleaned vital information about the Avengers, the Seven, and the broader state of superhuman affairs. He learned of Vought's monopoly over superheroes and their distaste for unregistered superhumans. Black Adam also realized that his powers and lightning emblem would make him a target for Vought's curiosity and experimentation.
"So, this world is ruled by a group of unruly opportunists?" Black Adam muttered, his brow furrowing. The more he learned, the more wary he became. His encounter with Clark and the Sentry had already proven they were formidable, but the Seven's rise to dominance despite their power suggested Vought was no ordinary opponent.
"What about the wizards? The ones responsible for my imprisonment?" Black Adam asked.
The man looked blank. "Wizards? Uh… no clue, man. You sure you've got the right time period?"
Black Adam realized that information about the wizards had likely been lost to time. With no leads, he'd have to keep searching.
"Can you put me down now?" the man asked nervously, sensing Black Adam's growing impatience.
"You're afraid after all," Black Adam remarked, amused. He'd initially thought the man might be mad, but now it seemed he was just a thrill-seeker with poor judgment.
"Of course I'm scared! I'm just a regular guy!" the man said hastily. "You've gotten everything out of me. If you want more, just use the internet!"
"The… internet?" Black Adam murmured. Before he could ponder the suggestion, his attention snapped to the horizon.
From the direction they'd come, a figure was approaching rapidly. Black Adam's sharp senses recognized the threat immediately. "This is the one they call Homelander?"
The tattooed man's reaction confirmed it. "Homelander?! He's here to save me!" He cheered loudly. "You're screwed now!"
Black Adam's eyes narrowed. Judging by the man's bravado, Homelander was clearly a powerful figure in this era. If so, testing him might be prudent.
With a flick of his wrist, Black Adam hurled the tattooed man—not toward the ground but onto the rooftop of a nearby skyscraper. The impact wasn't fatal but would certainly leave the man bruised and shaken.
He turned his attention fully to the approaching Homelander, his expression darkening. "Let's see if you're worthy of your reputation."
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