Phase II
Chapter VIII: Around the Fur – Part III: Niger II
Kadavar narrowed his eyes as he studied the projected footage from the previous night—the same expression he wore whenever he was confronted by people, within or outside SAI, who challenged scientific order with groundless claims. He despised anything that couldn't be measured. Anything unwarranted, unidentified, unproven. Anything that slipped beyond the rigor of tested science—the very pillars that kept SAI, and what remained of civilization, from collapsing into a group of wild primitive men who worship superstition.
"And did the boy say how he obtained this ability?" he asked, eyes back on the replay, watching Wawa's form peel away from Kaodin's aura.
"No, sir," Arika said. "He lost consciousness before we could ask. We expect to speak with him later today, once he wakes."
Kadavar didn't respond immediately.
As the silence stretched, Arika's gaze drifted—unintentionally—toward the left side of the chamber, where an antique golden standing Buddha rested within a recessed alcove beside Kadavar's desk. The statue itself was not unfamiliar to her; she had seen it many times before. However, positioned directly before it and sealed inside a narrow tempered-glass containment frame, hung another object—an oval form, matte-dark, unlike anything she had encountered in prior excavations. It floated perfectly still, suspended as if the rules of physics and gravity simply did not apply, leaving no sense of weight around it at all.
King Kadavar noticed her attention had shifted toward the newly excavated object. Nonchalantly, he indulged her curiosity further.
"It was recently discovered inside an underground secret chamber," he said. "The entrance had collapsed during the Second Founder's Uprising. The research and engineering teams collaborated with the archive storage unit led by Morren and developed a spider-bot capable of bypassing the old security sentinels to enter the area. This object was the only item the bot could retrieve, because it bears no measurable weight. As a result, we have yet to learn anything else about this mysterious artifact. The safest place to keep it—according to Morren and his team—was my office. So, there it is."
Though Arika gave a slight bow in gratitude for the King's willingness to divulge even a fragment of information about the object, she still found it impossible to look away, her gaze lingering longer than she intended. Kadavar, however, had already turned his focus back to the holopad before him. With a quiet tap, he resumed the playback.
The chamber filled again with motion and light. On the holo screen, Kaodin pivoted sharply, redirecting an oncoming blow with his knee—absorbing and deflecting the force in a single, seamless motion. Still suspended in the air after diverting the strike with that knee counter, he abruptly shouted the name of the ancient technique—"Jarake'Fad'Hang." His counter-kick didn't merely drive the creature back; it staggered something three times his size, shattering its balance outright.
Kadavar's eyebrow rose, his eyes narrowing.
"Is that even possible for a boy that age—to do this? You're not trying to soften the fact that you were saved by him, are you? That it wasn't simply that you and your men weren't cut out for dealing with a newly discovered mutated Cannibal Corpse?"
Arika's eyes widened for a fraction of a second—too late to hide that she understood exactly where his doubt was pointed.
"Sir," she said, voice steady but firm, "I've given everything to SAI. I've never abandoned a mission, and I'm not questioning your judgment. What I meant is—if we're going to face anything like that creature again, we need time to prepare. Whether that means retraining our units or reinforcing them with implants. And given how much more overt the cult's attacks have become lately—far from their old habits of hiding in the shadows—this suggests they're no longer afraid of us. We can't aff—"
"Ahem."
The King's throat-clearing cut through her words—sharp enough to interrupt, soft enough not to be a rebuke.
Arika stopped mid-sentence. She straightened, reined her tone back under control.
"Maybe the simplest way," she said quietly, "is for you to see it firsthand."
Kadavar didn't answer right away. He gave her a brief glance—more weighing than scolding—then turned back to the holographic display.
"We'll discuss the legion performance issues later," he said. "For now, we continue."
Another clip rolled.
The King leaned forward slightly, studying the projection with a frown.
"The patterning… and that heated fur," he muttered. "It's not just flaring out. It's pulling away from his body, swirling out of him. Almost like a spectral entity—Jamlang-kai—transfiguring into a physical form, then collapsing beside the boy."
'WAWA' — ANOMALY ENTITY SCANNED DATA ANALYSIS
| Emergence Point | Subject's right forearm (aura-separation event detected) |
| Manifestation | Heat flare condensing into physical form; rapid cooling after |
| Physicality | Registers as fully corporeal post-formation (mass, temperature, pressure within normal ranges) |
| Energetic Link | Bidirectional tether detected for 0.13 seconds during emergence |
| Behavioral Flag | Immediate guardian / protector response |
Note:
Event recorded in footage: entity transitions from spectral flare → tiger-cub form → independent physical body. Thermal signature during emergence parallels Kaodin's heat output pattern, though at reduced intensity and with higher stability.
Arika drew a slow breath, steadied herself, and held out a datapad.
"Lastly… we ran biometric registration while he was unconscious, as part of emergency treatment."
Kadavar took the pad, eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned the header.
"Human," Arika said. "Confirmed. But the blood type doesn't appear in any medical record from the last two hundred years."
Kadavar's brow tightened—not with panic, but with the tension of a man recalculating in real time.
The room went quiet except for the low hum of the holographic display behind him.
When he finally spoke, his voice was clipped and precise.
"Send a notification to Counsellor Varak. Tell him to meet us at the medical bay."
He paused, then added:
"And check on Phawin and his father—the High Commander, Suthep. See if they're available to join us."
Arika nodded once. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Kadavar stepped out from behind his desk and moved closer to the tall glass, eyes on the faint orange glow rising over the horizon. Morning light crept slowly into the chamber, brushing the outline of his shoulders. He drew in a long pull from the cigar vapor between his fingers, held it, then exhaled a thin stream before speaking again.
"And one more thing, Commander Arika."
She straightened.
"This report is to be sealed under the highest confidential classification. No open channels. No extended logs. No cross-department copies."
He tapped the edge of his desk console, bringing up a security window.
Kadavar still didn't turn from the view as he continued:
"You'll prepare a formal memorandum listing every individual permitted to view this material. There are exactly three names: the High Commander, Counsellor Varak, and myself. No one else."
Arika gave a short nod.
"And you will add legal reinforcement," he said. "If any officer or civilian—at any rank—tries to access this information without the approval of at least two of those three authorities, Article Seven is triggered automatically."
He paused, his tone deepening.
"And since your entire unit witnessed the boy firsthand, you will take responsibility for their discretion. If any of your people—Yuri, Han Xiao, Ken, Albert—let even the slightest whisper leak outside authorized channels… intentionally or not… you will answer for it."
Arika's breath hitched.
Kadavar finished it cleanly:
"Mark the report accordingly. Highest classification. Two-authority unlock. Any unauthorized retrieval—direct or indirect—invokes Article Seven."
Article Seven.
The law tied to the Neuron-Pain Collar—a skull-locking device that fired death-impulse loops straight into key neural pathways. One cycle felt like dying violently. The collar delivered them at random intervals, minimum sentence spanning twenty to fifty years. Thorium-powered. No one had ever lasted long enough to find the true upper limit.
Arika's naturally white-pink complexion drained almost at once. Her hand shook as she reviewed the voice-recognized text scrolling across her arm-pad, forcing herself to re-check every line before sending the urgent notices.
She dispatched two sets of secure directives:
Summons to the medical bayMandatory Article Seven acknowledgment *URGENT* — response required within five minutes BLOOD ANALYSIS — AX-3R ANCESTRY MARKER
| Blood Type | AX-3R (Extinct, pre–Great War) |
| Genetic Integrity | 99.2% stable |
| Mutation Flags | None detected |
| Historical Note | Lineage believed lost approximately 200 years prior |
VII. PRELIMINARY CONCLUSION
Subject Kaodin displays combat patterns that partially align with pre-war systems—primarily Muay Boran and Jeet Kune Do—yet the majority of his movement, power generation, and heat output fall outside the scope of any authentic, non-AI-generated documentation, falsified footage, or verified human capability. Physiological and kinetic markers remain inconsistent with established modern baselines. A detailed investigation has been ordered under the King's directive.
PING… PING… PING…
Replies came back within seconds — expected, given the "highest urgent" tag attached to the King's summons. At that level, hesitation wasn't an option; every high-ranking officer was obligated to respond immediately.
Arika glanced at her arm-pad and stepped forward.
"Your Majesty, the notifications have all returned. The full report is now on your pad."
Kadavar gave a small nod, the vapor pen still between his fingers.
"Yes, I see it. Thank you. Give me a moment."
He took a slow draw from the Ciga vapor, the faint plume drifting past the morning light, and shifted his attention fully to the projection screen that flickered into place above his holographic arm-pad. His brow lowered as he began scrolling through the replies — each one carrying its own tone, its own implication
SAI INTERNAL MEMORANDUM — RESPONSE LOG
Subject: Attendance & Acknowledgment Status — Royal Summons & Article Seven Addendum
Recipients: His Majesty King Kadavar / Commander Arika / SAI's top-level classified record vault
Classification: Highest Confidential — Article Seven Reinforced
Commander Phawin Rattana
ATTENDANCE:UNAVAILABLE
ARTICLE SEVEN:PENDING
Status: Currently deployed near Seaport Town coordinating eradication of large CC clusters near the border. Mission noted as the primary cause of the ongoing salt-supply disruption within SAI.
Notes: Maintains professional courtesy but shows no expressed interest or concern regarding the anomalous incident. Delay appears procedural rather than political.
High Counsellor Varak Hemrit
ATTENDANCE:CONFIRMED
ARTICLE SEVEN:SIGNED & LOGGED
Status: Attendance confirmed. Document fully e-signed and officially stamped. Communication was direct and measured, carrying clear skepticism toward the boy's reported abilities.
Notes: Intellectual curiosity is clearly engaged; skepticism does not diminish his willingness to involve himself.
High Commander Suthep Rattana
ATTENDANCE:UNAVAILABLE
ARTICLE SEVEN:SIGNED & LOGGED
Status: Issued a brief, formal response stating intent to personally observe the boy at a later time. Apologized for current unavailability due to overlapping operational commitments.
Notes: Tone suggests distance from the matter; adherence to protocol remains absolute. Acceptance appears administrative rather than genuine.
Arika exhaled, a faint, tight grin pulling at her mouth as she lowered her arm-pad.
"Your Majesty… may I bring Yuri as well?" she asked. "He witnessed the entire encounter, and he tended to the boy afterward. His account should be included."
Kadavar met her eyes for a brief second — a knowing look — then nodded once.
"Proceed."
Arika reopened her arm-pad immediately, but not through standard menus. She swiped twice across the side interface, shifting the console into SAI's top-level classified record vault mode, which automatically invalidated all prior team channels. Their existing private chat group blinked out of existence almost instantly — archived, encrypted, and sealed behind a new access gate.
A fresh secure channel generated under her command authority.
Her fingers moved quickly across the surface — no voice commands allowed while the King was mid-review, and no audio input permitted under the vault's protocol anyway. A short burst of alert tones left her arm-pad, sharp enough that anyone on her team would feel their stomach drop before even opening the message.
Then a high-priority directive was issued to Yuri, Han Xiao, Ken, and Albert:
Effective immediately:
You are forbidden from discussing anything related to the boy's abilities, his blood analysis, or the tiger entity with anyone outside the authorized chain.
Not friends.
Not colleagues.
Not family.
If you slip—even as a joke—you will not be processed under Article Seven.
I will be held directly responsible for your actions.
If I have made myself clear, then you do not speak of this.
Understood?
She tagged Yuri separately beneath it:
Yuri — rendezvous at the medical bay. Fifteen minutes. Full gear, formal conduct.
This is not a request.
Only after the system confirmed Delivered / Read and received Acknowledged replies from all her team members did Arika lock her arm-pad and turn back toward the King. She bowed—controlled and crisp.
"Your Majesty, preparations are complete. We may proceed to the medical bay at your convenience."
A simple signal — and exactly enough.
Behind her, King Kadavar stood at the window, dismissing the holographic projection with a flick of his thumb. The morning's first pale light crawled across the horizon and spilled into the room as her words reached him. He took one final, slow draw from his cigar vapor, letting the burn pull his thoughts into order before he exhaled and stepped away from the glass.
Then he extended his arm to reach for the navy-blue sweater jacket draped over his chair and pulled it on over his simple SAI under-armor suit. He picked up the faint-black sunglasses from his desk, slid them into place with a practiced, almost habitual motion, and finally stepped away from the window to follow after her.
The moment they exited; the chamber internal AI computing shifted mode to secured lock.
The overhead lamp dimmed in a soft cascade, and the vertically-squared floor-to-ceiling glass panel behind the King's desk — the one overlooking all of SAI territory — shimmered as its internal layers activated.
What looked like a single sheet of glass was, in truth, a multi-stacked, impact-diffusion composite: transparent armor capable of swallowing the force of high-powered rifle fire, redistributing shock waves from missile impacts, and even neutralizing shaped charges before the blast could bloom.
The surface darkened into a mirrored sheen, sealing the view from both sides.
Every panel in the room locked into place as the central AI engaged the King's private-office protocol:
No access. No visibility. No trace.
A perfect vacuum of information.
Unless, somewhere on the grid,
someone who had slipped their way into the system long ago…
someone with access they were never meant to have…