In the Veyne mansion, Amity Park
In the past eighteen months, Kael had done many things. One of the most fundamental was to build his influence anonymously in both Elmerton and Amity Park.
Kale executed his plans in silence. Food banks stayed full. Scholarships appeared for both bright and student in financial need. Hospitals got the tools they needed. Even city officials got support for beneficial city projects.No one knew his name, but everyone felt his sincere deeds.
Kael built more than charity. Kale published qualified research papers anonoymously, earning the trust of professors who had never seen his face. Every bond, every paper, every quiet act was a layer of protection against Vlad Plasmius, against the corrupted power that might try to claim Amity.
Now, on the eve of his ascension, he was ready. His work would lift the city. His alliances would shield it. His people would stand behind him. Vlad could have power and money, but the town itself was already his. He will reveal his name after his ascension. But he already left his final clue to Vlad finding his identity. He was now waiting in his mansion for his final guest of today. He felt all his needs completed, now he needed a final push. He will ascend to tier A today.
Vlad's Mansion, Wisconsin
Vlad Masters sat in the deep leather chair of his study, a crystal glass of expensive wine untouched on the desk. A year and a half. His investigations into rival corporations and black-budget government programs had yielded nothing but frustration. The ghost—Tempest—had vanished, and the clean, artificial portal signature had never reappeared.
His attention had turned, as a last resort, to the academic world. It was a long shot, a needle in a haystack of mundane scientific drivel. He had algorithms scouring newly published papers in obscure journals for keywords: "dimensional theory," "exotic energy stabilization," "non-linear temporal mechanics."
A soft chime echoed in the silent room. A new hit. He waved a hand, and a holographic screen flickered to life above his desk.
Title: "On the Stabilization of Transdimensional Energy Signatures Through Harmonic Damping"
Author: Kael Veyne
Publication: Journal of Advanced Theoretical Energetics (A highly respected, notoriously peer-reviewed publication for cutting-edge physics)
Vlad's first reaction was a dismissive sneer. Kael Veyne. The boy. Maddie had mentioned he'd taken up his parents' research, but he'd assumed it was a child's hobby, a way to cope with grief. He almost dismissed it entirely.
But the title, it was too specific. Harmonic Damping. That was the precise principle needed to clean up the "noise" of a ghost portal, to make its signature so controlled and artificial.
With a sigh of boredom, he began to read. The paper was shockingly brilliant. It proposed a theoretical framework for containing and shaping cross-dimensional energy leaks, using a counter-wave system to "cancel out" the energetic fallout. It was written with a clarity and depth that spoke of not just understanding, but firsthand experience.
Then he saw it. In the footnotes, a single, throwaway line of methodology:
"...the initial energy spike, denoted as Event Sigma, exhibited a decay rate indicative of a forced quantum collapse rather than a natural dissipation. This suggests an intelligent design behind the rupture, not a random occurrence."
Vlad's blood ran cold.
Event Sigma.
He knew that decay rate. It was a sign when a portal was opened. It would show decay rate.
It was a perfect match. The paper wasn't theoretical. It was a forensic analysis. Kael Veyne wasn't theorizing about a random energy event; he was describing, in precise, clinical detail, the aftermath of his own portal. He was analyzing the scene of his portal opening and closing.
The pieces, all the frustrating, disconnected pieces of the last eighteen months, slammed together in his mind with the force of a physical blow.
The brilliant, reclusive parents who died in a convenient accident. The private, well-funded laboratory left behind. The boy's sudden withdrawal from society, his move to a secluded town. The lack of any large organization behind the ghost—because it was a solo operation. And now this breathtakingly arrogant, genius-level confession published in a scientific journal.
Vlad leaned back, a slow, terrifying smile spreading across his face. The frustration of the past year evaporated, replaced by a wave of pure, undiluted triumph.
His search was in the wrong direction. It wasn't the military, nor the secret agents, neither the foolish Fentons. It was this boy who has access to portals like him. And he's the half-ghost like him. He's sure of it now.
He began to laugh, a low, chilling sound that held no humor. All this time, he'd been hunting for a rival corporation or a secret agent. But the truth was far more fascinating.
The boy wasn't a soldier. He was an inventor. A prodigy. He had not only replicated the Fenton's work but had perfected it, creating a stable half-ghost and a functional portal, and then had the audacity to publish a paper on how to theoretically make a portal and start and end it.
Vlad's mind raced ahead, strategizing. Kael Veyne was no longer a mystery; he was an asset. A vulnerable, orphaned, brilliant asset sitting on the most valuable scientific discovery on the planet, isolated in a mansion with no protection.
The hunt was over. Now, the acquisition began.
He picked up his phone, to call his human assistant.
"Amelia, clear my schedule. And prepare the car for Amity Park. I believe it's time I meet with the youngest prodigy of this generation. Send a formal notice to the Veyne estate. Tell them Vlad Masters is coming to discuss a charitable donation to his research."
He ended the call, his crimson eyes gleaming with predatory anticipation. He would arrive not as Plasmius, but as a billionaire philanthropist. He would offer funding, resources, mentorship. A gilded cage with a seemingly pure motive.
The boy had revealed himself not through a fight, but through his intellect. And Vlad would use that very intellect to trap him.
The game had finally, truly begun.