Arrowverse: I'm a Hero

Chapter 8: The Not-So-Subtle Art of Damage Control

[ SYSTEM MESSAGE: Impending Mini-Crisis: CatCo Disaster. Source: Cat Grant's ego and a severe caffeine deficiency. Recommendation: Intervene subtly. Or dramatically. Your call, but dramatic might be funnier. ]

Adam had, by now, settled into a comfortable routine of subtle intervention and blatant sarcasm. He'd perfected the art of "accidentally" being in the right place at the right time, armed with a perfectly timed quip and a vague, yet surprisingly accurate, "hunch" about impending doom. His wealth allowed him to be a ubiquitous presence without being questioned too much. After all, rich eccentric benefactors are practically a trope in superhero narratives.

One morning, the "Future Insight" hum in his brain cranked up to eleven. It wasn't a supervillain attack, not yet, but something far more terrifying: a CatCo disaster of epic proportions, fueled by Cat Grant's legendary temper and a technical malfunction. He foresaw a catastrophic data loss, a very public humiliation for Kara, and a general meltdown that would make a nuclear winter look like a pleasant spring picnic.

He arrived at CatCo just as the chaos was reaching peak volume. The main server room was sparking, intern-level panic was setting in, and Cat Grant's voice, amplified by sheer fury, could probably be heard in Metropolis.

"Kiera!" Cat shrieked, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at a terrified Kara. "Fix this! Or I'll have your job, your apartment, and your inexplicable ability to always look perfectly coiffed even after a long night!"

Kara, looking harried, was frantically typing on a terminal, but it was clear she was out of her depth. This wasn't a job for heat vision; it was a job for Felicity Smoak, or failing that, someone with a very advanced understanding of network architecture. And a very strong stomach for Cat Grant.

"My apologies for the intrusion," Adam announced, strolling into the chaotic scene with an air of unflappable calm. He was holding a takeaway coffee cup, which he'd procured from a secret, delightful little cafe he'd recently discovered. It tasted like actual coffee. Miracles did happen.

Cat Grant, mid-rant, paused, her sharp gaze fixing on Adam. "And who, pray tell, are you, interloper?"

"Adam Stiels," he said, offering a charming smile. "International investor. And, incidentally, a connoisseur of fine network infrastructure. And a recent patron of this magnificent establishment." He gestured vaguely at the sparking servers. "Seems you've got a bit of a... digital dust bunny problem here."

Kara looked up, her eyes wide with surprise and relief. "Adam? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just in the neighborhood," he said with a dismissive wave. "Heard a faint cry for help. Figured it was either a trapped kitten or a major corporate meltdown. Turns out, it's both, in a metaphorical sense." He walked over to the sparking servers, peering at them with a look of intense concentration that belied his utter lack of professional IT experience.

"Cat, darling," he said, turning to Cat Grant, "your systems are bleeding data faster than a superhero's secret identity on a bad Tuesday. It's not Kiera's fault; this is a systemic issue. Poor routing protocols, inadequate firewalls... frankly, it's an embarrassment for a media empire of your caliber."

Cat, surprisingly, didn't immediately vaporize him. He'd hit her where it hurt: her pride. "An embarrassment?" she repeated, her voice dangerously low.

"Absolutely," Adam nodded gravely. "It's like having a supermodel wear a couture gown, only to realize it's held together with duct tape. Unacceptable. But fear not, for I, Adam Stiels, have a solution. Or, rather, I know a guy."

He pulled out his phone – the one with the 'C' system icon – and pretended to dial. "Yes, hello? This is Stiels. I need you to dispatch your crack team of digital ninjas to CatCo immediately. Tell them it's a priority one, code red, 'Cat Grant's mood is rapidly deteriorating' emergency. And tell them to bring extra power converters. And maybe some industrial-strength coffee. For the ninjas, not for Cat. She looks like she's already running on pure rage."

He hung up, giving Cat a reassuring smile. "They'll be here in ten minutes. My team is highly efficient. And they work wonders under pressure, especially when the pressure involves a formidable media mogul breathing down their necks."

[ SYSTEM MESSAGE: Emotion Spike Detected: Relief/Collaboration (Kara Danvers). Proficiency: 65%. Your 'network' narrative is getting stronger. Also, successfully placated a Cat Grant. Achievement unlocked: 'Silver Tongue'. ]

[ SYSTEM MESSAGE: New Emotion Spike Detected: Collaboration/Intrigue (Felicity Smoak – via future contact). Potential Skill Copy Opportunity: Hacking/Tech Savvy. Currently outside proximity. Target location: Star City. ]

The system buzzed, indicating not just Kara's emotional response, but also a pre-emptive signal for a future interaction. Felicity Smoak. Excellent. He was going to need that Hacking/Tech Savvy eventually. But for now, he had to deal with the immediate catastrophe.

Ten minutes later, a team of impeccably dressed, extremely focused tech professionals (his own personal "digital ninjas" he'd hired with his ludicrous wealth and put on retainer for "unforeseen tech emergencies") swarmed the server room. They moved with quiet efficiency, calmly assessing the damage while Adam continued to narrate their actions for Cat Grant, adding dramatic flair where none was necessary.

"And now, observe, Cat," Adam intoned, gesturing at a technician expertly swapping out a smoking circuit board. "This is the art of precise, surgical intervention. Like a master surgeon, but for your data. Fascinating, isn't it?"

Cat Grant, miraculously, remained silent, watching the proceedings with a bewildered expression. For once, she was rendered speechless. It was a beautiful sight.

As the crisis averted, and data restored, Cat Grant looked at Adam. "Mr. Stiels," she said, her voice surprisingly subdued. "You are... peculiar. But effective. I like peculiar and effective."

"It's my brand, Cat," Adam said with a confident smile. "Peculiar. Effective. And always well-caffeinated."

He winked at Kara, who was still looking at him with a mix of awe and amusement. Their bond was strengthening, steadily, organically. He was becoming more than just a passing acquaintance; he was becoming a crucial, if unconventional, part of her life.

As he left CatCo, with Cat Grant's grudging respect and Kara's grateful smile as his trophies, Adam couldn't help but hum a little tune. He was building his reputation, acquiring skills, and inching closer to his goals. The Arrowverse was slowly but surely bending to his will. Or, at least, reacting to his charming interference.