Location: Unknown Underground Laboratory
Ethan’s eyes opened to a light that buzzed like a mosquito in a tin can. The ceiling above him wasn’t the one from the mansion—or any place he remembered at all. It was metal. Cold. Gray. There were cracks in the corners that glowed faint purple, like somebody had colored in spiderwebs with a neon marker.
His head throbbed.
He sat up, slow. Everything felt a little tilted, like he was still dreaming, or like he’d stood up too fast after recess.
There was a blanket over him. Stiff. Scratchy. Not warm. A cot under him, creaking like it didn’t like him sitting there. He looked around. The room wasn’t big. There were machines lining one wall—monitors, pipes, and tubes filled with swirly green and purple goo. It smelled like burnt wires and sour candy.
There was one door, and it was metal. Big and heavy-looking, with no handle on the inside.
Ethan blinked again. Rubbed his eyes.
He remembered playing with Jack. Climbing trees. Kicking the ball. They were having fun. Jack was laughing. Then—BOOM. The weird tall lady. Floating. Silver eyes. His legs up in the air. Jack holding on tight.
Jack.
“Jack?” Ethan whispered.
No answer.
He looked down. He was still dressed in the weird costume—blue shirt, black gloves, and leg things that kind of looked like socks but weren’t. His shoes—blue All Stars—were kicked off at the side of the cot.
Ethan stood up. His legs were wobbly, like Bambi on ice. He winced, holding his side. There was a bruise there, probably. He didn’t remember how it got there.
He didn’t remember much of anything, actually.
But he knew Jack.
And Jack wasn’t here.
“I gotta get outta here,” Ethan muttered. His voice cracked, and he hated that. Why did his voice have to squeak like that? He was supposed to sound cool.
He shuffled over to the door. It didn’t have a knob or a switch. Just a shiny square that blinked purple. He tapped it.
Nothing.
He punched it.
“Ow!”
Still nothing.
Ethan looked around the room again. His eyes landed on a tray near the wall. Tools. Wires. Weird glass tubes filled with stuff that bubbled like soda. He crept over, trying not to make his sneakers squeak on the floor.
There was a long screwdriver thing—flat at the tip. That might work.
Ethan grabbed it and went back to the door. He jammed the tool into the crack between the wall and the door.
Nothing budged.
He growled—like a puppy pretending to be a wolf—and shoved harder. Still nothing.
“C’monnnn!” he whispered through gritted teeth. “I just wanna go home…”
His fingers slipped, and the tool clattered to the ground with a noise way louder than it should’ve been.
Ethan froze.
For a moment, silence.
Then—
CLANG.
A bolt snapped loose somewhere up above. A hiss of air, like a snake letting out a breath.
And then... the door slid open.
Ethan jumped back, dropping the screwdriver. He looked up, expecting to see Jack. Hoping. Wishing.
It wasn’t Jack.
It was her.
The floating lady. The tall one with the shiny arm and glowing eyes and that coat that flapped like she was always in a wind tunnel. She didn’t look surprised. Or angry.
She looked like she was expecting him to try.
“Well,” she said, stepping into the room. Her voice was smooth and sharp at the same time, like a knife made of honey. “That didn’t take long.”
Ethan backed up until he hit the cot.
“Where’s Jack?” he asked, his voice small.
She tilted her head. “Your little friend? He’s safe. For now. But I didn’t bring him here. I brought you.”
Ethan frowned. “Why?”
“Because you’re special.”
That made his stomach twist. Adults only ever said that when they wanted something.
“I’m not special,” Ethan mumbled. “I’m just… just a kid.”
“Exactly,” the lady said, and walked closer. Her boots didn’t even make noise. “You’re a child. Untapped. Unshaped. Still pure.”
Ethan flinched as she knelt down in front of him.
“You’re the one who summoned the djinn,” she said quietly. “I felt it. You rubbed the lamp. You brought Jubbar back.”
“Jubbar?” Ethan blinked. “Is that... like a dog?”
The woman actually laughed. It wasn’t nice.
“No. He’s power. And you, my dear, were the one who called him out. Which means... only you can call him again.”
Ethan shook his head. “I dunno what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh, but you did,” she said, gently touching the side of his face with her glowing glove. It wasn’t hot. But it made his skin tingle.
Ethan jerked back. “Don’t touch me!”
The Sorcerer Scientist stood up slowly. She looked down at him with those bright, icy eyes.
“I’m going to be patient with you—for now. But we have a very important ritual to perform. And you’re the star of the show.”
Ethan tried to bolt around her—dive for the door—but she caught him mid-step with a flick of her fingers. He felt invisible arms wrap around his chest and lift him into the air.
“Let me go! Let me go!”
“You’re not ready yet,” she said coolly. “But you will be.”
Ethan kicked and thrashed, but the invisible grip just held him steady, like he was a bug in a jar.
The Sorcerer Scientist turned to the wall and waved her hand. The door sealed shut behind her as she walked out.
The invisible arms lowered him—gently this time—back onto the cot. He was too winded to fight back.
He curled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.
His eyes stung, and he bit his lip.
He wasn’t crying.
Not really.
But everything felt messed up. He didn’t remember where he came from. He didn’t know who that lady was. He didn’t know where Jack was. He didn’t know anything.He was just a kid.
A scared, confused, sore, angry kid.
And right now, he hated being special.