Just then,a great 'WHOOMP' of air and shimmering blue smoke burst into the Gym without so much as a knock.
With a clap of thunder and a swirl of incense-scented fog, Jubbar the Magnificent arrived.
The training room, still littered with Anuli’s webbing, twitched slightly with leftover energy as the djinn’s powerful form materialized at the heart of the maze—just between Jack’s abandoned knife and Ethan’s damp towel. The air temperature rose a few degrees, and the lights flickered with magical static.
“YOU!” bellowed Jubbar, voice booming loud enough to shake the light fixtures. “WHERE IS HE?”
Ethan dropped into a reflexive crouch behind a spell-web column. Jack spun on instinct, one hand reaching toward the throwing knives he’d hung back on his belt. Anuli, ever poised, turned slowly, her fingers already twitching with web-casting readiness.
Ken straightened from his lean against the practice dummy, eyes narrowing as he stepped forward, katana still sheathed across his back. “That’s a dramatic entrance even for you.”
Jubbar turned sharply, bellowing through the smoke. “Do NOT test me, O stealthy shadow-slicer! I have had a ROUGH MORNING!”
He stepped fully into the space now, his usual crimson vest replaced by a Hawaiian Shirt, his enormous belly bouncing with every frustrated footfall. Golden earrings jingled as he fumed,a colorful wreath around his neck swaying with every step, thick arms crossed and toes curling on his beach sandals.
Then he caught sight of the group in their full getups.
Ethan in fingerless tactical gloves and blue leggings. Jack in his green scout gear and domino mask. Ken in deep purple ninja garb, black gloves, and the very serious bandolier of throwing stars. Anuli in her vibrant gold-and-orange armor, spider insignia gleaming.
Jubbar squinted, slowly lowered his arms, and let out a long, exasperated sigh.
“Well,” he said, voice lowering just slightly, “at least you’re all still dressing like weirdos. There’s some consistency left in this cursed quadrant.”
Ken crossed his arms. “Nice to see you too, Jubbar.”
“Is it?” the djinn shot back. “Because I was halfway through my first paid vacation in eight centuries! Do you know what I was doing when the Charms Council yanked me back to this dimension like a misbehaving sock puppet?”
“Let me guess,” Jack muttered. “Spa day?”
“Nectar-infused sauna mist! Fire sprite pedicure! Bottomless cauldron spritzers! And you know what I get instead?” He jabbed a finger dramatically toward the ceiling. “Summoned! To explain a ‘breach of wish protocol’ I never authorized!”
Anuli frowned. “Wait, what breach?”
Jubbar spun toward her, seething. “Some idiot activated a wish function using my legacy signature! Which triggered a violation alert in the Wishing Ledger and summoned an interdimensional audit! Now my vacation is cancelled, my sandals are soggy, and I’m stuck doing PAPERWORK!”
He waved a hand, conjuring a stack of floating scrolls covered in glowing red text that spiraled endlessly out of sight. “LOOK AT THIS! Do you see how many sub-clauses I have to sign?! Not to mention the following apendix and forms!”
Ethan shrank further behind the web maze pillar.
“And to top it off,” Jubbar continued, “because the unauthorized wish was channeled through my lamp’s registry mark, I’m liable for every magical consequence of the outcome!”
Ken raised an eyebrow. “What exactly was the outcome?”
Jubbar’s gaze swept the room suspiciously. “I don’t know yet! But the signature scan tracked back to here. This house. This exact team of costumed delinquents. And one of you—” he glared in Ethan’s general direction— “wished something with my magic without clearing it through the official forms and ceremonial chanting.”
Jack blinked. “Wait… so you’re here for a paperwork violation?”
Jubbar growled. “Do NOT trivialize arcane bureaucracy. There are scroll clerks who’ve turned people into frogs for less!”
Ethan slowly emerged from behind the pillar, a guilty flush already rising to his cheeks. “Okay. Um. Technically… I might’ve had a little chat this morning with… Geoffrey.”
Jubbar froze.
The air grew cold.
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You… spoke… to Geoffrey?”
Ethan tried to smile, but it came out more like a pained grimace. “He sorta… talked to me. In my head. There wasn’t any official wish wording or anything!”
“You didn’t say ‘I wish,’” Jubbar repeated flatly.
“Nope! Not once.”
“And yet,” Jubbar growled, “Why can I see that you’re now carrying around an intrusive psychic echo of your adult self giving you smug advice in your own head?”
Ethan’s face went beet red. “Um. Yeah. That's...complicated.”
Jack raised a hand. “It’s actually kind of helpful—”
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW ILLEGAL THAT IS?” Jubbar thundered. “You cannot amplify temporally displaced consciousness without consent filings from at least two timelines! You don’t get a spirit guide version of yourself without invoking the Echo Invocation Codex!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Ethan protested. “It just… happened! Geoffrey offered help and then—boom! Now there’s a weirdly supportive but also sarcastic older me hanging out in my frontal lobe from time to time!”
Jubbar looked ready to explode.
“That lampshaded bureaucrat is going to get a ten-hour lecture with mandatory diagram annotations!”
Ken turned slightly toward Anuli and muttered under his breath, “This might be my favorite sentence I’ve ever heard from him.”
“I heard that!” barked Jubbar, spinning on Ken. “And YOU! What’s with the costume, hmm? Purple ninja now? What is this—Gothic Hour at the dojo?”
Ken’s brow twitched. “It’s Nightshade Ninja.”
Jubbar covered his face with both hands and let out a muffled scream. “Another alliterative name. Why?! Why must EVERY vigilante in this city sound like a children’s book character?!”
“It’s a tradition!” Ken protested.
“You look like someone spilled grape soda on a bad cosplay costume!” Jubbar shouted.
Jack, half-choking with laughter, leaned on Ethan for support. “Nightshade Ninja versus Jubbar Jumbo! Coming this fall!”
Ethan wheezed. “Sponsored by Saki Sushi and awful aesthetics.”
Anuli coughed into her hand, barely keeping a straight face.
Jubbar turned back toward Ethan and glared. “Where. Is. Geoffrey.”
Ethan flinched. “He’s… uh. Still in the West Conservatory. I left the him there after… you know… the chat.”
Jubbar let out a deep exhale. “Of course he is. Hiding like the smug brass chandelier he is.”
He snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared midair, inscribed with a pulsing crimson seal.
“Fine. I’ll go extract him myself and file an official complaint form. But once I get that lamp out of his smug little antique box, YOU are getting an extended lesson on Wish Ethics with extra afterclass homework.”
Ethan raised his hand nervously. “So, um. Am I in trouble?”
Jubbar considered him a long moment. Then, at last, the djinn deflated slightly and sighed.
“No. Not yet. But if that psychic echo starts telling you how to invest in stocks or make toast speech at school, we’re going to have to amputate another part of your memory.”
“Oh,” Ethan said. “That seems… extreme.”
“It’s in the protocol.”
Ken cleared his throat. “If we bring the lamp down here to you, will it be helpful?”
“No,” Jubbar said wearily. “though it’ll give me someone to yell at right now. And that’s almost tempting. But I'll just go and scream at that bastard myself.”
With a wave of his hand, he began floating toward the Gym’s spiral stairs, trailing curls of smoke and muttered curses about “rookie conjurors” and “freelance lamps thinking they’re so clever.”
When he passed Ken, he added, “And seriously—Nightshade Ninja? You sound like a sushi chain mascot.”
He drifted up the stairs, leaving a puff of blue vapor.
For a few seconds, the Gym was silent.
Then Jack said, “I think he really missed us.”
Anuli deadpanned, “That’s what you took from all that?”
Ethan rubbed his face. “I think I’m gonna be grounded. By a cosmic force of nature. And why does everyone I meet these days want to delete my brain?”
Ken smirked. “Well, Kickboxing Kid, maybe next time don’t let a magical heirloom get into your skull.”
“Says the Nightshade Ninja,” Ethan muttered. “So maybe don’t throw stones, Eggplant Avenger.”
“You wanna sleep outside tonight, little bro?” Ken shot back with a smirk.
“Sorry, sir,” Ethan muttered quickly. But from the back of his mind, that adult voice hummed—warm and amused.
“You’re doing great, kiddo.” it whispered.