Adam sat at his workstation in the Lightcrest Division of the Iron Phalanx, staring at the clock on the wall. It was 4:15 PM on a Friday, and the seconds seemed to drag by with excruciating slowness. The second hand appeared to taunt him, each tick an indicator of how interminable the workday was. The light from his desk lamp bathed his papers and computer screen in an orange hue, but none of it could quell the gnawing boredom he felt. The office was quiet, save for the sporadic whir of the air conditioning, which seemed to add to the oppressive sense of waiting.

He glanced at the small, frost-covered cube on his desk, where the Wild Lupine lay trapped in a crystal-clear prison. Its purple petals, preserved in an ethereal stillness, seemed to defy time. It had been two months since he'd left D.C., and now, amidst the rhythm of his routine, a subtle but persistent sense of longing tugged at him. He missed not just the city but also a certain silver-haired boy with a knack for both cheeky attitude and disarming shyness. Adam would never voice it aloud, but Jaden's presence had left a mark. The memory of his bright, hopeful eyes and that smile that could slice through the gloom was more poignant than he had anticipated.

Adam watched as the ice around the flower began to melt, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the surface. Each thaw and refreeze of the cube seemed to echo his own conflicting emotions. Though he couldn't quite explain why he chose to keep the flower alive encased in ice, its striking tint was a constant reminder of the boy from Washington, D.C.

Dawn Dashiell, his co-worker and friend, popped her head over the partition separating their workstations. Her red hair, styled into a high ponytail with bangs framing her face, shone fiery sunrise shades against her porcelain skin and rich crimson lips.

"What is that?" she asked, her voice tinged with excitement. "You've been looking at it for weeks."

Adam diverted his stare from the cube while trying to sound dismissive. "Nothing. Just some dumb flower."

Dawn's emerald eyes twinkled with fascination, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "Aww, come on! Did Izzy give that to you? I bet she did, didn't she?"

"No way, we ended things last semester. I've told you already."

Dawn's lips formed a small "o" of surprise, but her nose wrinkled with even more curiosity. "Oh, really? But you guys were, like, super cute together! I was just hoping you got back together or something."

Adam let out a slow sigh, running a hand through his hair. He glanced at her briefly before looking away again. "Yeah, whatever."

"Seriously, who gave that to you?" Dawn leaned in closer, her ponytail swishing slightly.

Adam's jaw tightened, his fingers drumming impatiently on the desk. He avoided her gaze, concentrating intently on his screen. "It's just a flower, Dawn. Nothing special."

Dawn's eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. "Uh-huh. Sure. But you've been staring at it for ages! There's got to be a story there. Come on, spill!"

At that moment, Chase Sherwood sauntered into the office, freshly showered and embodying his signature laid-back style. He wore a royal blue Lightcrest University football t-shirt that was tailored to his athletic build and a pair of well-worn jeans. The college football season had just kicked off, and Chase had obviously come straight from the field. His damp hair was styled into a modern slicked-back look, adding to his relaxed, post-game appearance.

"If you two have time to chat," Chase said, his voice carrying a hint of playful authority, "you better finish all the reports for HQ."

Adam shot him a sidelong glance. "Look who's talking. I've been chained to this desk all day while you're out tossing the pigskin."

Chase chuckled, but his easygoing demeanor was disrupted as Dawn sprang from her desk and rushed over. "Chief, how was the game—oh my..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed Chase's black eye, swollen and bruised. "What happened to you?" she probed, her concern evident.

"Dude, what kind of shit went down out there?" Adam asked.

Chase waved off Dawn's apprehension with a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, you know, just another showdown with those pretentious clowns from Silver Den University," he responded. "Emory Phoebus and his crew were totally amped up today. It was like a grudge match on steroids. We had a few plays that were more about who could outmuscle the other than about football."

Dawn's expression changed from concern to disbelief and exasperation. "You seriously got into a brawl with Emory Phoebus again? You two are ridiculous."

Chase's smirk broadened. "Can't help it. Every time we square off, it's way more than just a game. Phoebus is as much a show-off on the field as he is off it. We both play hard, but today was something else."

Adam snorted. "Sounds like you're just asking for trouble."

Dawn shot a worried glance between Chase's eye and Adam's. The rivalry between Chase and Emory had escalated far beyond the usual sports competition. It was getting dangerous, and she knew it. "Are you sure you're okay? That looks pretty bad."

Chase laughed, clearly enjoying the banter. "Don't stress, Dawn. It's all part of the ride. I'll be cool—just a few ice packs and a solid nap will do the trick. Besides, knocking some of those Silver Den egos down a peg? Always a win in my book."

Chase spotted the frost-coated cube resting on Adam's desk as he eased into his chair. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he strolled over, picking up the cube with a raised eyebrow of curiosity. He looked at the delicate flower trapped within the ice, then, before Adam could react, he pressed the cold cube directly against his own swollen black eye. A hiss of relief escaped his lips as the chill hit him.

"Dude, that's actually rad."

Adam grimaced as he watched Chase casually use the ice cube, an uncomfortable knot tightening in his stomach.

"What's wrong?" Chase asked, noticing Adam's reaction.

Dawn, always ready to stir the pot, seized the opportunity. "Chief, you just took his secret lover's gift and put it on your eye."

Chase blinked in surprise. "The ice cube?"

"No, the flower inside it," Dawn replied with a grin.

Chase's eyes widened as he pulled the ice cube away and examined the flower more closely. "Wait, isn't that Wild Lupine?" he asked, a look of realization crossing his face.

Adam's patience snapped. "Just keep the ice, Chase. I don't care. It's just a stupid flower." He stood up and walked away, clearly frustrated.

Before Adam could walk far, his comm device buzzed boisterously on his desk, cutting through the tension. Chase glanced at it, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert. He answered the call with a swift tap on the screen.

"This is Chase Sherwood of the Lightcrest Division of the Iron Phalanx," he said, his voice immediately solemn. "What's the situation?"

A crackly voice on the other end reported, "Chief Sherwood, we've got a situation at Van Boxtel Technologies headquarters. There's been an incident—security systems are down, and there's unauthorized access in the data vault."

Chase's eyes narrowed, and he immediately stood up, his playful demeanor replaced by a professional urgency. "Understood. We're on our way." He ended the call and turned to Adam and Dawn. "Looks like we've got some serious waves rolling in. Van Boxtel Technologies is in a jam. Time for the Iron Phalanx to get its game on."

---------------

Jaden leaned against the cool glass-paneled wall of the Van Boxtel Technologies headquarters, his gaze lost in the thrumming expanse of Veridian City, a sprawling cyberpunk metropolis cradled in western Massachusetts, about two hours from Boston. The city extended beneath him like a living, breathing circuit board, a neon web of color flickering like the electric pulses of a high-tech brain. The city's skyline was a jagged array of holographic advertisements and towering skyscrapers, their reflective surfaces casting the myriad hues of purple, blue, and green onto the rain-slicked streets.

He had been in Veridian City for a few days, and despite his efforts to blend in, he felt like an outsider in a maze of steel and light. The fluorescent signs, floating advertisements, and shimmering outlines of maglev trains streaking above him created a disorienting yet mesmerizing canvas. Unlike traditional rail systems, the trains hovered on a magnetic cushion, and their aerodynamic design was a demonstration of modern engineering. The absence of friction allowed them to reach speeds that made New York's subway look pedestrian by comparison, a testament to the technological marvels that underpinned this urban labyrinth.

Jaden's heart raced, not just from watching the speed of the trains but from the thrill of the chase. He had pulled a fast one on his parents. The dance of his deception had been executed with precision: convincing them that Harvard was his destination, only to board a bus to Veridian once they had dropped him off within the ivy-clad walls of Cambridge. Lightcrest University was still on his radar, but right now, his focus was on unearthing the truth about his origins and the shadowy ExoCellular Lab.

The boy adjusted his stance, his fingers drumming lightly against his thigh as he scanned the lobby of the Van Boxtel headquarters. The opulence of the space struck him. High ceilings, polished floors, and a reception desk that seemed to suspend in mid-air, thanks to the holographic interfaces. The lobby vibrated with a subdued efficiency, employees moving through the space with deliberate strides, their footsteps softened by the plush carpeting. His parents' connections had opened this door, their influence ensuring he could meet with Weston Whitlock, a tech industry wunderkind with an insatiable drive for innovation.

His thoughts drifted to the task at hand. The Spectral Defenders had shut down ExoCellular Lab, seizing everything in their path—physical assets, digital records, anything that could reveal the lab's dark secrets. Van Boxtel Technologies had been the lab's digital infrastructure provider, their archives potentially holding the last remnants of information about the experiments conducted there. If Jaden could get even a glimpse into those records, he might find the key to understanding his own existence.

The seconds crept by, and Jaden's pulse quickened in time with the silent countdown. He glanced at the digital clock embedded in the wall—3:00 PM—noting the time of his meeting with Weston. He had rehearsed his pitch, his questions, every angle he could leverage to get what he needed.

Soon, the elevator doors slid open with a whoosh, and Weston stepped into the lobby. He appeared to be in his early 30s, wearing a finely tailored suit that seemed almost too casual for the office environment. His platinum hair fell in tousled waves around his face, giving him an air of effortless cool. His eyes, a shade of ice blue, flicked over Jaden with a confluence of speculation and guarded interest.

"Jaden Troublefield, I presume?" Weston's voice was smooth, with a hint of a tech bro's charm.

Jaden straightened, forcing a confident smile. "That's me. Thanks for meeting with me."

Weston nodded, gesturing for Jaden to follow him. "No problem. Let's head to my office."

The elevator ascended smoothly, the numbers on the digital panel ticking upward as they rose toward the 18th floor. Weston stood at ease, his hands in his pockets, exuding an unruffled confidence that contrasted with Jaden's tightly wound anticipation.

The doors opened with a gentle ding, and they stepped out into a hallway lined with glass offices and sleek workstations. As they walked, Jaden noticed employees deeply immersed in their screens, oblivious to the world around them. Weston guided Jaden through the corridor, the hushed sounds of typing and murmured conversations accompanying them. At the end of the hallway stood a pair of imposing double doors, which swung open to reveal Weston's office.

Inside, the room conveyed a vibe of streamlined elegance, a seamless fusion of modern minimalism and cutting-edge technology. One entire wall was a floor-to-ceiling window, offering a panoramic view of Veridian City. From this height, the city unfurled like a vast grid of lights. The metropolis, home to over 4 million, was a center of innovation and learning, its skyline dotted with research institutions and a dozen universities that had earned it the nickname "Academic Oasis." The scene below seemed to throb with life, the streets teeming with activity as the city carried on with its relentless pace.

"Have a seat," Weston stated, gesturing to a chair opposite his glass-topped desk as he settled into his own. He leaned back, studying Jaden for a moment before breaking the silence. "How are your parents?"

Jaden took a measured posture in his chair, fingers knitted together. "They're doing well," he replied. His tone was cautious but polite, aware of the delicate balance between formality and familiarity in this setting.

"Good to hear." Weston nodded, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "I haven't seen them in a while. The last time I crossed paths with them was when I had to navigate that mess with the Senate subcommittee about military AI ethics. Your parents were there, guiding the conversation like seasoned conductors. It was something to see—they had the senators eating out of their hands by the end of it."

"Indeed, they are very good at what they do," Jaden acknowledged nonchalantly, though a flicker of unease passed through him. He knew his parents were highly respected for their ability to maneuver through the political landscape, but he couldn't shake the feeling that their talents were sometimes a double-edged sword.

Weston leaned forward, his expression morphing to something more serious. "I'm guessing you didn't come all this way to talk about your folks, though. What's on your mind?"

Jaden gave a small, almost bashful smile, his eyes wide and earnest. He'd learned from his parents—two of the most formidable political operatives in D.C.—how to play the part of the harmless, curious young man. He knew his youth and apparent innocence could be his greatest assets to disarm the wary.

"Well, Mr. Whitlock," Jaden began, his tone tender and almost naïvely childlike. "I was hoping you might help me access some archives related to ExoCellular Lab. Specifically, records from about a year before they were shut down."

Weston rested his chin on his steepled fingers, his gaze sharpening. "I've heard about the lab's closure. That was almost two decades ago, well before my time here. What are you looking for, exactly?"

"It is for a research project I'm working on for my upcoming class this fall. We're diving into the ethical debates around cloning and human experimentation. I thought I might find some unique perspectives in the ExoCellular Lab archives," he responded, his voice was calm, with an inflection of casual candor that concealed any underlying deceit.

Weston nodded slowly, considering Jaden's request. "I see," he mumbled. "Well, let me see what I can do." He turned to his computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard. A few moments later, he looked up, a puzzled expression on his face. "It says here that the Spectral Defenders shut down the lab for illegal human experimentation and genetic engineering. They seized everything and classified it to prevent sensitive data from leaking to the public. Apparently, Van Boxtel, having provided the lab's digital infrastructure, retained some copies of the data or at least access logs from before the seizure."

"That is right. I was hoping you might still have something."

Weston clicked a few more keys and then frowned. His computer emitted a strident buzz, and a red warning light flashed on his pale skin. "What the... It's saying I can't access it," he muttered, displeasure creeping into his voice.

"Is there any way to get around that?" the boy asked with a plaintive sincerity. "I came all the way from Boston, and I was really hoping to find something useful for my class."

Weston looked back at Jaden, seeing the genuine eagerness in the boy's eyes. He hesitated, then sighed. "Okay, fine. Let's go to the data vault. We might have better luck accessing the information from there."

Weston led Jaden through a series of corridors, each step taking them deeper into the secured zones of Van Boxtel Technologies. They arrived at a door labeled "Data Vault," its surface embedded with biometric scanners and an advanced security interface. Weston's position as the Director of Digital Security at Van Boxtel meant he had access to many of the company's highest-level systems, but his work computer might have been restricted due to stringent access controls and data protection measures.

Standing before the vault, Weston placed his hand on the scanner. The door opened with a muted hiss, revealing a vast room filled with rows of data storage units and high-tech security consoles. Weston approached one of the central terminals, his fingers typing the keys rapidly as he zeroed in on the task at hand.

"Even though my work computer has high-level access, it's also tightly monitored and restricted," Weston explained as he worked. "The data vault, however, offers broader archival access and fewer real-time restrictions. This is where we store legacy data and backups, which aren't as closely controlled as our active systems. If we're going to find the data you're looking for, it's likely to be here. It might take some time to sift through it, but this is our best chance."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Whitlock."

Weston gave a reassuring smile as he initiated a search protocol. "Please, call me Weston."

Jaden blushed and looked away, but his attention quickly returned to the screen as Weston's voice took on a more engaged tone.

"Okay, here's something. One year before they were shut down, the biggest project they were working on was called..." Weston squinted at the screen, "Genesis Sentinel. But it's not exactly about cloning, though."

Jaden felt a flutter of nervous foreboding. "Genesis Sentinel?" he mumbled.

Weston began reading aloud, his voice steady as he skimmed through the dense text: "After collecting a comprehensive series of genetic samples from various donors, including eggs and sperm from multiple couples, ExoCellular Lab aimed to create an optimal genetic blueprint. The goal was to engineer a designer baby with a genetic composition compatible with a mix of genes derived from the Great Sorcerer—an ancient figure reputed for unparalleled magical abilities."

Jaden's pulse hammered in his ears as he absorbed the information, each beat of his heart resonating with the gravity of Weston's words. He felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him, leaving him suspended in a void of bewilderment. How could this be true? he wondered.

Weston continued, "If compatibility was achieved, the geneticists would incorporate a trace of the Great Sorcerer's DNA into the subject's genome, endowing them with a unique genetic marker that would unlock extraordinary magical capabilities. The engineered baby would then be groomed to become the Justice-Activated Defender and Extraordinary Neutralizer, or J.A.D.E.N." There was a brief glimmer of recognition in his eyes as he turned to the boy behind him. "Hey, doesn't that spell your name, Jaden?"

Jaden glared blankly at the screen, his mind a turbulent sea of thoughts. He had suspected that something had been done to him before he was even born, but nothing could have prepared him for this revelation. The answers he had hoped for seemed elusive, replaced by an array of new questions that only deepened the mystery of his existence. Why would anyone want to give him a trace of the Great Sorcerer's DNA? Who was this Great Sorcerer, and what did he have to do with Jaden? Was he the only one with a genetic makeup that was compatible with this mix of genes? What was the purpose behind this engineering? And what exactly was the Justice-Activated Defender and Extraordinary Neutralizer?

"Are you alright?" Weston asked, his brows furrowing as he studied Jaden's face. He had noticed the boy's dazed silence and wanted to make sure he was okay.

"I-I—" Jaden stammered, but before he could continue, a blaring alarm interrupted the moment.

The room was abruptly drenched in flashing red lights, and an automatic voice announced throughout the building, "Warning: A breach has been reported in the building. Follow emergency procedures and evacuate the area at once."

Weston cursed under his breath, his fingers furiously tapping at the keyboard. "This can't be good," he muttered as he powered down the terminal, plunging the screen into darkness. "Come on, we need to move."

But Jaden remained rooted to the spot, his face a mask of stunned disbelief. Doubt engulfed him, turning his world into a murky fog of uncertainty. The comforting stories his parents had told him, the identity he had built from them, and the person he had worked so hard to become now felt like an elaborate fabrication.

Memories replayed in his mind like a broken film reel. Childhood moments—fragments of feeling special, different from everyone else—tangled together, revealing a sinister possibility. What if his entire life, every milestone and achievement, had been orchestrated for a preordained purpose he couldn't even fathom? Was it all part of a grand design? Could he trust any part of himself, or had he been living a lie?

"Jaden, let's go!" Weston's voice pierced through his haze.

The silver-haired boy wrenched his legs into motion, struggling under the weight of his fractured identity. He followed Weston out of the vault. The hallway outside was awash in the red glow of emergency lights, projecting eerie shadows on the walls. The alarm's drone was unyielding, intermingling with the shouts and frantic footsteps of security personnel. He couldn't afford to dwell on what he'd just learned—not with everything spiraling out of control. He fought to clear his head, pushing his thoughts back into focus.

"Do you know what's happening?" Jaden asked, striving to match Weston's pace.

"No idea, but we need to get out before things get worse. This kind of alert isn't usually triggered unless there's a serious threat."

As they neared the end of the hallway, Jaden noticed a sudden blur of movement. A ninja-like figure dropped silently from the ceiling and landed in front of them. Before Jaden could fully process the glossy black outfit, the ninja lunged, grabbing Weston and yanking him aside with an aggression that left no chance for resistance.

Weston's eyes bulged in shock as he wrestled against the ironclad grip. "Jaden, run!"

Jaden's thoughts scrambled to keep pace with the chaos unfolding before him. The ninja was a shadowy enigma—face concealed behind a mask, hair hidden beneath a hood, and the dark ensemble perfectly blended into the surrounding shade. Yet, it was the eyes, visible through the mask's slits—dark and resolute—that revealed the figure's lethal intent.

"Let him go," Jaden demanded.

The ninja's hand shot to a staff strapped to his back. With a brisk maneuver, he twirled it and brought it down with measured force. The staff, a deep obsidian hue, was adorned with intricate gold dragon motifs at its ends, evoking the refinement of the Twin Dragon Jian Damascus.

"I said, let him go!" Jaden's voice grew more insistent as he slowly closed the distance.

Promptly, the staff hummed with a brilliant golden energy. The silver-haired boy hardly had time to brace himself when the staff was driven into his chest. The hit felt like a freight train, not just from the physical blow but from the surge of golden energy that exploded on contact. The momentum sent him hurtling backward, crashing through a door at the end of the hallway. The door buckled under the impact, and the boy skidded across the floor, pain radiating through his chest.

Before long, the ninja struck a control panel on the wall with the end of his staff. There was a loud crack as the panel shattered, and a heavy steel door descended from the ceiling with a thunderous clang, sealing the hallway and trapping Weston and the ninja inside.

Jaden groaned, pushing himself up despite the pain. He couldn't afford to stay down, not now. Whoever that ninja was, he was after something inside—and Weston was crucial to his plans.

The boy chanted, "Luce Stellarum!" and hurled a sphere of rainbow light at the steel door. The magic struck with a resounding judder, creating a noticeable dent, but the door remained resilient. Jaden knew it would require more effort to break through.

On the other side of the door, the ninja dragged Weston toward the data vault and shoved him to stand before the biometric scanner next to the vault's control panel. The ninja's voice was cold and commanding. "Come on, Whitlock. You know what I need. Scan your hand to open the vault."

Weston, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, looked at the scanner with dread. "I don't know what you're after, but I'm not letting you access this vault."

The ninja's glare became more menacing. "I don't think you have much of a choice." He gripped Weston's wrist, which was visibly shaking, and pressed it against the scanning pad. Weston struggled against the pressure, his fingers flexing in a futile attempt to pull away. The device emitted a beep as it read his biometric data, and the vault's door began to unlock once again.

The ninja pulled Weston into the data vault in silence. The door closed behind them with a clunk, locking them in. He let Weston go and walked to one of the terminals. His gloved hands moved expertly over the keyboard, slicing through layers of encrypted files. Weston, anxiety etched on his face, watched as the ninja's actions carried an air of urgency.

"What are you looking for?" Weston asked, trying to get a glimpse of the screen. His eyes widened as he saw the display. "Operation Wanshi (万视)? What do you want with that?"

Without warning, the ninja whirled around and delivered a decisive blow to Weston with his staff. Weston collapsed, unconscious. The ninja wasted no time, turning back to the terminal, his eyes scanning the text. As he scrolled through the data, his expression darkened.

"Van Boxtel Technologies Space Station was destroyed two months ago?" he muttered, his voice a low growl. The screen displayed a report detailing how the space station had been shot down from Earth by an unidentified magical beam, leaving many questions unanswered. "The destruction had severely compromised critical intelligence and coordination systems, making Operation Wanshi vulnerable to exploitation."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth under his mask as he processed this crucial piece of information. Satisfied with the data, the ninja instantly began transferring the files onto a portable drive. Just as the progress bar completed 100%, the sound of footsteps and a chant reverberated down the corridor.

"Luce Stellarum!" Jaden's voice rang out.

A brilliant rainbow ball of magical force streaked through the air, smashing into the vault's steel door with an echoing clash. The collision left the door buckled, its metal groaning under the pressure but stubbornly holding firm. The impact rattled the shelves, knocking several data modules off their racks and sending them crashing to the floor, scattering their contents in a rampageous array of wires and chips. The ninja's head whipped toward the entrance, every sense on edge. With a final glance at the now-activated portable drive, he disconnected it and slipped it into his pocket.

But before he could fully steady himself, another devastating blast rocked the vault. This time, the door finally gave way, flying open as the magnitude of Jaden's magic tore it from its hinges. Dust and debris swirled as Jaden stepped into the vault, his eyes burning with tenacity. When everything started to settle, the boy stood in the doorway, chest heaving with adrenaline.

His focus stayed on the ninja before quickly moving to Weston's unconscious form sprawled on the floor. "What did you do to him?"

The ninja's response was silence, but his movements were anything but passive. With a fluid motion, he thrust his staff upward toward Jaden. Jaden reacted swiftly, sidestepping the assault as the staff sailed past him, missing its target. The ninja retracted the staff with an almost imperceptible shift of his wrists and brought it down in a sweeping arc aimed at Jaden's midsection.

Anticipating the attack, Jaden stepped backward with an agility that defied his earlier injuries. The staff struck the ground with a thud, creating a tremor that sent a nearby terminal teetering on its base before it toppled over, sending sparks flying as it crashed onto the floor. Seizing the moment, the silver-haired boy planted his foot on the staff, using it as a springboard. He propelled himself into the air, his body twisting before his foot connected with the ninja's face in a high, spinning kick. The blow sent the ninja stumbling sideways.

The ninja shrugged off the impact of Jaden's kick and regained his footing. As Jaden readied his next strike, orbs of rainbow starlight coalesced beneath his palms. He gave a measured flick of his wrist, launching the orbs toward the ninja. The ninja responded with flawless precision, spinning his staff—now wreathed in a golden aura—to intercept the orbs. They erupted in a dazzling burst of embers, dispersing harmlessly across the room and igniting a few scattered papers and data sheets that had been knocked loose in the fracas.

Without missing a beat, the ninja lunged forward, staff leading the charge. Jaden's reflexes were razor-sharp; he twisted his body in a fluid pirouette, skirting the incoming attack. The staff whizzed past him, its momentum creating a gust of wind that ruffled his hair.

As the ninja recovered from his swing and repositioned himself, Jaden responded with a calculated maneuver. He thrust his hand forward in a powerful palm strike aimed directly at the ninja's face. But the ninja was ready; he bent backward with astonishing flexibility, his body arching gracefully. His feet slid along the floor, allowing him to glide past Jaden in a smooth, almost serpentine motion.

Jaden's expression became steely as he placed his hands one above the other, leaving a deliberate gap between them. Within this space, multicolored specks began to converge and swirl, forming a massive sphere of concentrated star energy that resembled a rainbow supernova on the brink of detonation. "Ira Stellarum Explodentium!" he shouted, launching his palms forward to unleash the supernova's fury.

The ninja braced himself, drawing his staff back before extending his hand forward. From his palm, a construct of bronze energy materialized in the shape of a Buddha's hand, meeting Jaden's raucous blast head-on. The two forces collided with a mighty clash, their energies locked in a fierce stalemate. The vault's interior was cloaked in a maelstrom of blinding light while the tension was causing the room to tremble.

As the confrontation reached a standstill, the ninja's heightened senses detected the growing clamor of footsteps approaching from the corridor. Recognizing that reinforcements were imminent and that the standoff was wasting precious time, he knew he couldn't remain in this position forever.

With a purposeful leap, he moved sideways, and Jaden's supernova flare surged forward, overwhelmed his bronze energy construct, and then punctured through the vault's wall. The explosion created a colossal hole that unveiled the surrounding Van Boxtel Technologies complex. The once-sturdy wall crumbled, and a torrent of wind rushed in, whipping through the debris and stirring up a tempestuous vortex within the vault. The air grew thick with the mingled scents of rain and city smog.

The silver-haired boy stood at the edge of the breach, panting. His hand lowered gradually as the last sparks of his power dissipated in the eddying air. He stared at the newly formed opening, now framing the expansive metropolis beyond.

The ninja, smirking with a hint of triumph, called out over the roaring wind, "Thanks for the escape route, kid." He gave a mocking salute before golden energy enveloped him. His form seemed to blur and lighten, and he effortlessly floated through the breach, disappearing into the bright, bustling cityscape.

Amid the wreckage, Jaden's heart pounded as he rushed to Weston, who lay motionless on the cold floor. Weston's pale face made the dark bruise on his temple stand out even more, a harsh reminder of the blow he'd taken. His breaths were shallow and erratic—clear signs of a concussion.

"Oh gosh, Weston, you really took a hit," Jaden muttered. "But hang in there—I've got you."

Weston's eyelids twitched but stayed shut. A wave of frustration rippled through Jaden as he took stock of the room, searching for anything useful. The control panel was a wreck, with terminals strewn haphazardly on the floor. Jaden's fingers grazed Weston's neck, detecting a faint but consistent pulse. Time was running out. He had to find help—fast.

Just as he reached for his phone, a stern female voice rang out. "Step away from the injured man!"

Jaden spun around, eyes widening as two figures charged into the vault—a slick-haired blond guy and a fiery redhead, both in Iron Phalanx uniforms, exuding urgency and authority.

"Right on cue!" Jaden exclaimed, flashing a grin. "I was just about to call in the cavalry—Weston is not looking too good."

"We're telling you one more time, kid—step away from the injured man and identify yourself!" the redhead snapped, her emerald eyes scanning Jaden with a skeptical glance.

Jaden blinked, his grin faltering as he caught the edge in her voice. The way they moved, the no-nonsense attitude— it all harkened back to his first run-in with another Iron Phalanx member. That day on the train had started much the same, with Adam treating him like a criminal instead of the guy trying to help.

"Just great—I have been through this song and dance before," Jaden mumbled under his breath and sighed. "My name is Jaden, and for the record, I am not the one you're after." He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

The blond guy's left eye was a deep blackish-purple contusion and slightly swollen. Jaden wondered if he could even see out of it as he glanced at the broken door and the shattered control panel.

"So, you're the one who left this epic disaster?" The blond guy probed.

"Uh, well, kind of?" Jaden admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "I might have knocked a few things around. But in my defense, that is more the ninja's handiwork, not mine."

The redhead's eyes grew colder as she took in his demeanor. "You're under arrest for breaking and entering into a secured data vault and assaulting a man," she declared, stepping forward and tightening her grip on Jaden's arm.

"What the—hey, hold up! Get your grimy hands off me, lady! You got the wrong guy!" Jaden protested, wriggling in her grasp.

Despite his resistance, she quickly pulled his hands behind his back, securing them with a pair of handcuffs.

"This is ridiculous," Jaden grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I was trying to stop some ninja dude from turning Weston into a human punching bag. Shouldn't you guys be, I don't know, calling an ambulance or something? The guy's hurt!"

The blond guy, who had been checking on Weston, finally said, "Medics are on their way, but you need to come with us."

"I am not going until Weston gets helped."

"Are you resisting arrest?" The redhead seethed.

"Yes, I guess I am," Jaden retorted, glaring at her defiantly.

"You little—" she started, but her words were cut short by a familiar voice.

"Jaden?"

Jaden's head snapped around. In the doorway of the vault stood a man clad in the blue and red Iron Phalanx uniform, which highlighted his chiseled chest and strong physique. The rugged familiarity of his face—defined jawline and piercing blue eyes—sent a flutter through Jaden's stomach. Seeing him again amidst the commotion felt like a much-needed anchor.

"Adam..." Jaden murmured.