Veil of Corruption

As Jaden pulled a chair to sit, the captain's gaze sharpened, suddenly piercing.

Reading the shift in her expression, Jaden gave a silent nod and pulled up his notes, transferring them to her data pad.

Though electronics were normally restricted within the complex, specially designed data pads and terminals were permitted. They were constructed using exotic shielding alloys that suppressed all electromagnetic emissions — no signals, no interference, nothing for the prisoners if you can call them to detect. Internally, they functioned like any other machine. Externally, they were ghosts.

Jaden began reporting his findings one by one — from the unnatural opening of the containment box from the inside to the strange boy's fragmented story about himself.

Though protocol demanded full transparency, Jaden withheld the details about John. The man wasn't relevant… not yet at least.

The captain spoke — her voice dense and heavy, like it compressed the very air around them. It felt like a suppression chamber had formed around Jaden. His lungs strained with each breath.

"The Cabury incident. Is that truly where the child came from?"

Jaden drew on his Aether, letting it steady his pulse and anchor his thoughts. Only then did he speak.

"I don't know."

The captain didn't look up — her eyes remained fixed on the data pad, scrolling through lines of fractured records.

Jaden exhaled and continued.

"The records never directly mentioned him. But that doesn't mean much. Remote villages like Cabury are often neglected. Most entries are based on second-hand confirmations — someone vouching for someone else.Maybe the boy and his mother were refugees. If that's the case, it explains why there's no detailed registration... and why no one has come forward to claim them."

The captain finally drew a breath and looked Jaden directly in the eye.

"Do you think the boy is lying?"

Jaden shook his head.

"To be honest... I don't know."

Before she could interrupt, he continued — voice steadier now, edged with conviction.

"He can be trained. Watched. He spoke to me clearly. A psychiatric evaluation would help us determine how far we can go in engaging with him."

The captain averted her gaze, eyes returning to the data pad in her hand.

"Dig deeper into Cabury. Find out if the boy is lying — more importantly, whether he poses any potential to society. Evaluate everything.I want a report on my desk every week.That's all for now. You're dismissed."

Jaden stood up. His expression firm, jaw set.

"Yes, Captain."

But before he could turn to leave, her voice cut through the air again — cold, unhesitating.

"Do not hesitate to kill him if it comes to that. I don't need to say it... do I?"

A shadow passed over Jaden's face. His reply came low and bitter.

"No, ma'am."

She didn't need to remind him of his past mistake — but she did anyway.Perhaps she'd seen something in his tone. An emotional crack. A flicker of attachment.Or maybe... maybe she was simply cruel by nature — a woman who cut without blinking.

Whatever the reason, the words hung in his mind like iron.

Jaden didn't return to Room 8A. He didn't check the surveillance feed on Malo.Instead, he walked off in silence, heading to the far side of the complex — a quiet, forgotten corner near the old maintenance wing.

He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall, letting the silence settle around him.No thinking. No planning. Just smoke and stillness.

He has to plan now what to do with Malo; he can't quite understand this kid. He knows for a fact that the kid is strong, but how strong to be sent directly to Greywell? What approach should he take—act as a mentor, a handler, or a friend? Everything feels like a puzzle; he just needs to make it fit right.

.....

A voice echoed through the invisible speaker above.Malo flinched — not from fear, but from the suddenness of it.

"Kid, I've been assigned to look after you.First things first — you're free to ask questions, but I'd prefer you wait until I've finished.

There will be a psychiatric evaluation scheduled for you. It's mandatory. I know you've been through something… difficult. The session is meant to help you recover, or at least understand what recovery might look like.

Next, you'll be assigned to a learning session. An instructor will be chosen to teach you the basics — routine, behavior, knowledge we need you to have. If any problems come up, he'll address them.

You can also reach out to me. If needed."

The speaker clicked off with a soft, static-laced pop.

A wave of silence settled the room as the speaker clicked off.

Malo slowly rose from where he sat, movements careful, almost hesitant. Then, softly:

"Will you not punish me?"

The speaker crackled back to life, Jaden's voice coming through warped by static — jagged around the edges, but still understandable.

"No. This… this isn't your fault.Forget about it, for now. We'll talk later.It's not the right time."

It was a lie. A poorly delivered one.Jaden winced even as he spoke, knowing the words had landed wrong — the hesitation, the phrasing, all of it.

He cursed himself silently. But Malo didn't press him on that last sentence.So, for now, things were going well — or at least, they weren't falling apart.

Jaden looked at Malo through the monitor, then sighed — a quiet breath that didn't quite carry relief.

His voice returned, gentler this time, stripped of protocol.

"Malo, your psychiatric evaluation will begin soon.If you'd like to delay it… you can tell me."

There was a pause.Malo straightened slightly, his voice firm — or at least trying to be.

"I am ready."

Jaden watched him for another moment, unreadable.

Then he spoke again, calm and even.

"The evaluation will take place in three days. I'll inform you before the doctor arrives."

The line went silent again — the speaker clicked off, and with it, the thin thread of warmth withdrew.

...................

Three days later.