The air had grown thin.
Ken’s arms trembled, his vision going fuzzy around the edges. Cyberteen’s eyes had rolled back behind his goggles. Jack was biting his lip so hard he tasted blood. Ethan squirmed, trying to wiggle his fingers in the crushing grip, but even that took too much effort.
The Sorcerer Scientist floated in the center of the lab like a cruel goddess, silver eyes cold and sharp. Her real arm extended, fingers curved like talons, while her bionic stump still sparked with fried wiring. The boys hung above the floor, suspended by invisible pressure like dolls in a cosmic vice.
Below them, Anansewa stood frozen. Sweat beaded at her temples.
“What’s the matter?” crooned the Sorcerer Scientist. “Need me to turn up the pressure?”
The invisible force tightened.
Ethan choked.
“Please…” Anansewa gasped. “Stop!”
Then—BOOM.
Not the lab. Not the floor. Not a machine.
It came from the air itself.
The very atoms of the room hiccupped with sudden static. A gust of warm, cinnamon-scented wind blew in from nowhere, curling with brilliant sapphire smoke.
The lights flickered.
The runes on the walls trembled.
And with an audible pop, the smoke collected in a whirl near the shattered back corner of the room—like it had chosen the most dramatic entry point possible.
From that swirling cloud of blue came a booming voice:
“AHAHAHAH! I KNEW I SMELLED SORCERER STINK IN HERE!”
Then came the feet. Massive. Barefoot. Toes like sausages dusted in golden anklets. Next, the legs—sturdy and thick, swaying beneath baggy red pants gathered with an ornate silk sash the color of rubies. Above that, a round belly jiggled merrily beneath a deep-cropped black vest that seemed to have lost its battle against his hairy chest.
At last, his face appeared: dark-bearded, twinkling-eyed, adorned in rings and laughter lines. His earlobes stretched beneath heavy gold hoops, and his grin could've rivaled a moonrise in size.
“Jubbar has ARRIVED!”
The Sorcerer Scientist’s focus snapped—and so did the magical grip. The boys dropped all at once.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
Ken grunted, hitting shoulder-first. Jack yelped and rolled across the floor. CT slammed down and clutched his ribs, gasping. Ethan landed awkwardly, but scrambled to his feet faster than any of them.
Anansewa seized the moment. “Now! Scatter!”
The teens dove in opposite directions.
But Jubbar didn’t flinch.
The djinn turned slowly, his massive arms spread as if to welcome the room itself. “This must be the place. I tracked my magical trail here across three dimensions and a very noisy traffic portal. Where. Is. My. Lamp?”
He grinned down at the wide-eyed Ethan and Jack—who had just begun to struggle upright.
“You two!” Jubbar beamed. “The little rascals who woke me up! It’s good to see you again, my boys! Come, give old Uncle Jubbar a hug!”
Ethan blinked. “...Who?”
Jubbar's grin faltered.
Jack stepped behind Ethan and whispered, “Do you know that guy?”
“No!” Ethan hissed. “Do you?”
“I thought maybe he was one of the Adolescent Avengers’ weird uncles.”
Jubbar frowned, beard twitching. “Wait. Don’t tell me—” He waggled a giant finger between them. “You summoned me from the lamp. The wish. The youth. The chaos. Ringing any bells, fellas?”
Jack scratched his head. “Did we… buy a lamp?”
Ethan shrugged. “I don’t remember any lamp.”
“YOU TURNED INTO TWELVE-YEAR-OLDS!” Jubbar cried. “Because of me!”
“Oh,” said Ethan, brows drawing together. “Wait. That does sound… vaguely dumb enough for us to do.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
“Ah,” sighed Jubbar, his voice sagging. “Concussions. I told you two to avoid head trauma.”
Behind them, the Sorcerer Scientist was regaining her footing. Her silver eyes narrowed. “You… you followed your magical residue here?”
“I’m not just a showy spirit in a vest, sweetheart,” said Jubbar with a wink. “I’m an executive-class freed djinn now. I’ve got clout. Got summoned, did my time, made my mischief—and now I’m backtracking because someone’s holding onto my lamp. Which, by the way, is mine by magical property law until I pass into the Veil of Diffusion.”
“You don’t need the lamp anymore,” the Sorcerer Scientist spat.
“Don’t need?” Jubbar’s belly bounced as he doubled over with laughter. “That lamp is my power bank, baby! It’s the charger to my iSpirit! If I’m away from it for too long, I start dissipating! Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get promoted out of wispy wish-fodder? You don’t just give up your lamp!”
“Then you shouldn’t have left it with a couple of prepubescent meatballs,” she sneered.
Jubbar turned to the kids. “Did she just call you meatballs?”
Ethan blinked. “I think she did.”
Jack whispered, “I like meatballs.”
“ENOUGH!” the Sorcerer Scientist snapped, flinging her good arm outward. Arcane energy lashed toward Jubbar like a violet whip.
The djinn caught it.
With one hand.
And ate it.
“Delicious,” he said, licking his fingers. “A bit spicy, though. Might need a mint later.”
Then, in a booming voice, he declared:
“This situation is now officially OUT of control!”
All lights flared—red, blue, purple—and the lab began to rumble under their feet. Sparks danced from every ceiling node. The glass tubes trembled. The old woman on the raised platform slowly took a step back.
And in that moment of chaos, Jack grabbed Ethan’s wrist.
“C’mon! While everyone’s distracted!”
“But where are we going?!”
“Out!”
Jubbar’s eyes followed them. “Don’t go too far, boys! I still need you for the memory signature to sync the lamp!”
“What does that mean?!” Ethan shouted over his shoulder.
“You’ll remember soon enough!” the djinn called with a wink, then turned to the Sorcerer Scientist with a booming laugh.
“Now then, Violet Von Doom—shall we dance?”