The news footage on the screen kept changing, cycling through live broadcasts from four different channels within seconds. An entire residential neighborhood lay in ruins, smoke and dust rising from the shattered walls as stretcher after stretcher was carried into ambulances. Vought's crisis PR had begun, with Stormfront righteously condemning the superterrorists' brutal actions on camera.
The private phone on the desk vibrated.
The screen lit up, and a brief message popped up. The sender was Cate.
[I saw the news. You're not hurt, are you? Those explosions...]
Lucian's fingers tapped rapidly across the keyboard, sending a reply.
[I'm fine. Stormfront messed things up at the scene, so I pulled out early. Stay at school and take care of yourself. I've been a little busy lately.]
After sending the message, Lucian placed his phone facedown on the desk and turned his attention to the terminal monitor in front of him, which was connected directly to Vought's classified database.
The highest-level access Edgar had approved was now in effect.
The clacking of keys echoed through the quiet room. Logging into the internal network and accessing top-level data, he knew that every click and every search would leave a clear record on the server's backend. This had been an open-handed game from the start. Edgar was watching his movements and assessing his intentions.
But Lucian no longer cared much about what he thought.
He typed that name into the search bar-
"Soldier Boy."
The progress bar filled instantly, and an electronic file bearing a red top-secret watermark popped up.
At the very top of the page was a photograph of a man in a green combat suit, holding a shield and facing the camera.
He scrolled down, skipping the lengthy accounts of promotional exploits and commercial endorsements, his gaze stopping on the