CHAPTER 7 — "Unstable Foundations"
Night had settled over the city by the time Aiden and Kael arrived at the manor.
From the outside, the Vale estate looked like a vision of luxury—white stone walls, trimmed gardens, warm lights highlighting tall windows. But underneath the structured elegance, buried beneath three reinforced levels of security and bio-locked access codes, something completely different had been built.
Their future.
Aiden led Kael through the side entrance to avoid the main household eyes, then down a private elevator hidden behind what appeared to be a wine shelf.
The ride was silent, the air tense with the enormity of what was unfolding.
Kael leaned back, looking at Aiden out of the corner of his eye. He's nervous, he thought. This side of Aiden… the orchestrator. It's new.
When the elevator slid open, Kael stepped out—and stopped.
"...Okay," he whispered. "I take it back. This is insane."
The command center stretched across a massive underground level, sleek, modern, and fully operational. Glass-paneled walls separated different stations: screens tracking satellite data, forensic labs, medical compartments, VR combat analysis platforms, and a central operations desk shaped like an elongated hexagon, glowing beneath touch interfaces.
Teams of scientists, analysts, and engineers—five total—stood nearby, quietly observing. Each wore discreet badges and white coats, but some carried the tension of people aware they were part of something extraordinary—and dangerous.
Dr. Hart, a middle-aged woman with piercing eyes and short silver hair, stepped forward.
"Mr. Vale," she said, nodding to Aiden.
"Everything is running at seventy percent capacity. We accelerated setup once you confirmed your… visitors would arrive."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Visitors?"
Aiden scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't tell them everything. Just that you and I are… atypical cases."
Kael smirked. "You make me sound like a medical condition."
Aiden didn't smile back.
"Before anything else," Aiden said, leading him toward another section, "you should see this."
Two mannequins stood inside a transparent chamber, under rotating lights. One suit was brilliant yellow, lined with soft gold accents, the insignia of a sunburst across the chest. Lightweight plating interlocked with reinforced weave fabric designed to absorb and redistribute heat.
The second suit was deep navy, almost black under low light, with luminescent etchings that outlined a crescent moon design spanning across the shoulder and chest. The darker suit appeared slightly heavier, with extra containment padding built into the right sleeve.
Kael frowned at the sleeve.
Aiden noticed. "Custom adaptation,"
he explained. "It's lined with triple-sealed density fabric to try and contain or at least stabilize… that."
Kael lifted his antimatter-forged arm slightly.
"That," he repeated with a lazy smirk. "Wow. We're giving it a pronoun now."
Aiden exhaled. "You literally disintegrated a wall for tapping it with your finger, Kael."
Kael's smirk faded.
Dr. Hart cleared her throat. "We'll need full data before you're allowed into field conditions."
Kael rolled his eyes. "You want a test? Let's test."
Testing Chamber
They moved to an armored chamber: thick composite walls, over a meter deep, reinforced with layered nanosteel. Inside, targets were lined up—metal pylons, ballistic gel humanoids, density blocks.
Aiden went first.
He stepped to the center platform and closed his eyes. Drawing breath deeply, he let positive emotion flow—the memory of his sister smiling, his mother's warmth, his father's rare moments of pride.
Light sparked around him. First a flicker, then a glow—bright, radiant, energizing. The scientists murmured as the Floor panels lit in auroras.
He extended his palm toward the metal pylon.
WHUMMMM—
A beam of pure golden light erupted forward—not violent, but focused like a scalpel. It struck the target. The pylon glowed white-hot before collapsing molten into itself.
Kael crossed his arms, nodding once.
"Clean. Elegant. Very Aiden."
Aiden stepped back. "Your turn."
The tension in the chamber thickened.
Kael walked into the center, rolling his neck. The scientists adjusted their monitors, pulse sensors ready. Aiden watched silently from behind the barrier.
Kael raised his right arm.
At first—nothing.
Then, the air shifted.
Aiden felt it before the sensors registered.
The temperature dropped. The lights flickered.
A low tonal vibration rattled through the chamber. The runes lit up like stars swallowed by the void.
Kael pointed at a target fifty meters away.
He didn't push hard.
He barely intended.
Vvvvvvmm— BOOOOMMMMMMM—!!!
The entire front half of the chamber shredded outward in silence.
Metal disintegrated into dark mist. The debris didn't scatter—it ceased to exist. The blast didn't just destroy; it erased.
The chamber lights cut out.
A heavy silence followed.
Even Kael looked stunned.
There was a faint dripping sound… until they realized it was sweat falling from Aiden's palm.
Dr. Hart's voice came through the intercom, quiet but urgent.
"Kael… please exit the chamber."
Kael lowered his arm and walked out without a word. The door closed behind him with the heavy thud of finality.
The Verdict
In the debrief area, silence wrapped around them like a vice. Monitors displayed testing data—but it was so far beyond expected values that the scaling broke.
Dr. Hart stood slowly.
"Kael…" she said, carefully. "Based on what we have observed, you cannot be approved for controlled combat deployment."
Kael held her gaze. Calm. Too calm.
"Translation?"
She inhaled.
"Your power output is non-linear. You don't scale up—you jump. You can't currently differentiate between what you intend to destroy or not. A minor kinetic gesture from you resulted in a total annihilation event."
Kael said nothing.
Aiden did.
"There has to be a training model. Containment parameters. Something."
Dr. Hart shook her head. "Our lab doesn't have the technology to safely restrain or refine antimatter-assisted force application. The risk is catastrophic."
"So what?" Kael asked, voice low. "You're saying I'm too dangerous to help?"
Hart didn't answer.
But she didn't need to.
Aiden stepped toward Kael. "This just means we plan better. We work on control before deployment."
Kael stared at the floor. No humor now. No sarcasm.
Too dangerous.
He hated how accurate that sounded.
Finally, he lifted his head.
"To be clear," Kael said slowly, "the scientists think I should never use my power at all?"
Hart didn't blink. "Until you establish fine control, yes. Because otherwise—"
Kael raised his hand to stop her. Not the new arm—the other one.
"I get it."
He turned away, expression unreadable.
Aiden watched his friend walk toward the far exit.
Dr. Hart looked to Aiden. "If you push him too fast, he may become a danger we can't contain."
Aiden didn't look away from Kael's retreating form.
"He's not a danger," Aiden said quietly.
"He's Kael."
Hart studied him. "Even good people break, Aiden."
He didn't reply.
Instead, he followed Kael out into the cold, cavernous hallway.
AFTER
Kael stood leaning against a thick support column, head bowed, runed arm dim.
Aiden approached gently.
"You okay?"
Kael looked at him.
Then smiled.
A bitter one.
"Fine. Just learned I'm a walking bomb."
Aiden stepped beside him. "Then we learn to disarm it."
Kael chuckled softly.
"That your hero line for the day?"
Aiden didn't smile.
"It's my promise."
The two stood in silence. One made of sun. One born of collapse.
Together, on unstable foundations.