"Alright, Cecil."
Eden leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. "I'll admit, your sincerity has touched me. But now you'd better explain what's so huge that the almighty Director of the Global Defense Agency breaks into my house at six in the morning—risking my invincible parents catching you and turning you into paste—just to drag me into your precious Guardians of the Globe."
Cecil gave a short laugh. "First off, your parents wouldn't squash me like a bug. Your father's the best man I've ever met… so good it's unnatural. Sometimes I wonder if he's really human at all, or if that saintly exterior hides something darker. That's why I don't trust him. And your mother? From the moment she landed on Earth, I knew she was lying to me. I've never trusted her either."
Let's be real, Cecil thought. What won him over wasn't my sincerity—it was the money.
He cleared his throat and pressed on. "In one week, the government's launching a manned mission to Mars. Humanity's first. Half a month of exploration. And we need a top-tier hero to keep the astronauts alive and ensure the mission succeeds."
"Nope. Not happening." Eden rose to his feet, already turning away.
"Ten million."
Eden stopped.
"It's not about the money." He started to walk again, but the doubling caught his ear. He liked when people cut straight to the chase.
"You misunderstand," Cecil said smoothly. "I mean ten million per day. And don't worry about your parents. We'll cover for you. Hell, maybe they'll hit another one of their 'surprise jackpots.'"
Eden froze mid-step, dragged his chair back, and sat down hard. His expression sharpened. "If you're that serious, then I'll stop playing coy. It's not that I don't want to take your mission. It's that in twenty-nine days, Earth is screwed. And until then, I need every second to train."
Cecil stiffened. "How bad are we talking?"
"Bad enough that even someone with the powers of my parents has to call it a disaster."
What the hell could that even mean? Cecil's mind raced. World-ending? Apocalypse?
"The second strongest warrior in the universe is coming here to challenge me." Eden said it flat. No hesitation.
"You're joking."
Eden sighed. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
"Second strongest in the universe? Compared to your parents?"
Eden shook his head. "Hard to compare. I've never seen Dad go all out. But I'm pretty sure he's stronger than my Mom."
Nolanne. His Omni-Mom. If she was anywhere near as strong as Omni-Man, she still wouldn't last against Battle Beast.
"How much stronger?" Cecil asked quickly. "If I gathered the Guardians, plus Nolan and Clark, and we ambushed him—do we stand a chance?"
"Don't bother. You'd just send them to die. If he takes it seriously, even Omni-Man wouldn't last a round."
"Jesus Christ…" Cecil rubbed his forehead, stress carving lines deeper into his face. "So there's no way to stop him from landing here?"
In absolute power, all strategy was useless. Just like the GDA against Nolan and Clark. Just like Earth's armies against Battle Beast.
Eden paused. Wait. That's an idea.
"System," he asked silently, "is there a way to keep Battle Beast from landing on Earth?"
[Yes, Master. If you resolve the conflict between Titan and Machine Head, Battle Beast's arrival will be delayed.]
Delayed?
[Half a month later than scheduled. Battle Beast's ultimate goal is the Viltrumite presence on this planet. He will come regardless.]
"…So Mom drew him here," Eden muttered.
He did the math. One week to Mars. Two weeks there. By the time he returned, twenty-one days would have passed. That left him eight days before Battle Beast arrived. Eight days to end the Titan–Machine Head conflict and buy himself an extra two weeks.
"I'll handle it."
"Handle what?" Cecil blinked, thrown by the abrupt declaration. He couldn't keep up with the kid's pace.
"Everything." Eden's tone was calm, almost casual as he ticked it off. "Mars. The Guardians. Battle Beast. Earth. The universe. Anything. You—" He tapped a finger on the table. "—you can be my second-in-command."
"Second-in-command?"
"Yeah. You've got skills, Cecil. Everyone knows it. You'll make a damn good sidekick." Eden clapped him on the shoulder with a grin.
He'd made up his mind. Working with the GDA cut out a lot of headaches. No more Atom Eve or the Teen Team sniffing around. Plus, Cecil's people were good at hiding things.
But there were different ways to "work with" the GDA.
Option one: play lapdog for Cecil and the Guardians. Not happening. Eden would never be anyone's employee.
Option two: be like his parents, working with the GDA but unpaid and unofficial. Also pointless. No money in it.
So Eden picked option three. Flip the script. Let Cecil and the entire GDA work for him.
...
Cecil froze.
"This… this isn't right."
Something was off. Wasn't I supposed to be the one hiring Eden?
So why did it feel like Eden had just hired him?
And not just hired him—Cecil had the sinking realization that he might actually be paying Eden's salary. Where the hell was the logic in that?
"All right, I've gotta head to school, Cecil." Eden slung his bag over his shoulder. "Remember—if you can't reach me, keep the Global Defense Agency running smooth. Don't even think about slacking off."
He didn't leave space for an argument. A quick reminder, then Eden was out the door, timing his stride so he wouldn't be late. Model student that he was, showing up late wasn't an option.
Cecil stared at the empty doorway.
"Unbelievable. I came here to hire muscle, not get drafted as his secretary." His eye twitched. "And now I'm his damn second-in-command?"
"Director, how's the plan coming along? I just saw Eden walk out of the house."
Donald Ferguson, the GDA's top field agent, called the second Eden disappeared down the street.
Cecil pinched the bridge of his nose. "Donald, I hate to admit it, but I think I've just put the Global Defense Agency on the hook for a high-salary, no-obedience, self-appointed goddamn boss."
After saying goodbye to his new "secretary," Eden hummed a tune on the way to school, the day passing by in an easy rhythm. The thought that tomorrow was Saturday only made him happier.
That evening, after parting ways with William and heading back to the Kent Residence, he tossed his bag aside and spoke into the empty living room:
"Cecil, make sure dinner's ready. I know you're listening."
At GDA headquarters, Cecil nearly spat out his coffee.
"Son of a bitch. He really thinks I'm his personal assistant."
Donald glanced over. "So… what's the play?"
"Make him dinner," Cecil said flatly. "The planet's depending on him. If that means we're the sidekicks, then fine—we're the sidekicks."
A hum filled Eden's living room as armored agents materialized, laying out pizza and burgers.
"Cecil," Eden called, unimpressed, "quit sending me junk food. I want bird's nest soup, lobster, king crab, steak. Wagyu. M12 grade."
Donald stared at the feed. "Did he just say M12 Wagyu?"
"Get it for him," Cecil muttered, rubbing his temples. His grand plan was unraveling. He'd pulled strings—state dinners, sending Clark and Nolan off to Hawaii—and for what? To get bossed around by a teenager?
"Goddammit. He'd better be worth it."
Later that night.
"Cecil, no cameras in my room. You know I'll find them. Oh—and make sure there's coffee ready for me in the morning."
Eden tossed out orders as casually as breathing, then headed upstairs to start another Simulation.
Cecil growled at the monitor. "Like I could spy on your room anyway, you little punk." The kid's space was protected by some kind of energy field—no tech could get through.
Morning light crept in.
Eden cracked open his eyes, exhausted but satisfied. He'd run Simulations all night, shredding through at least twenty Marks, each one left fatherless. Of course, only in the sim.
Stretching, he muttered to himself, "Starting tomorrow night, I'll take on Mark and Nolan together. Just Nolan's not cutting it anymore. I'm not improving."
He'd hit a wall. Without Kryptonian powers, his best time killing Nolan capped at twenty minutes. Nowhere near Thragg's level—who could rip apart Elite Viltrumites in seconds. So Eden made his choice: from here on out, it was two-on-one.
He washed up, headed downstairs, and grinned at the spread waiting for him. Fresh coffee, a table stacked with food. "Now that's what I'm talking about. Cecil really is the perfect secretary."
"Eden, forget something?"
Cecil popped into the seat across from him, sipping coffee like he owned the place.
"Nope." Eden shrugged, digging into breakfast.
"Really? According to Donald, in about five seconds your buddy William's gonna knock on the door." Cecil glanced at his watch. "Five… four…"
"What?" Eden blinked.
"Three, two, one."
Knock, knock, knock!
"Eden? You up?" William's voice echoed through the house.
"Shit." Eden froze. He remembered now—he'd promised William they'd visit Upstate University this weekend to meet some senior he'd mentioned.
In a blur too fast for Cecil to track, Eden devoured the rest of breakfast and pulled on clothes. No need to hide his powers; Cecil already knew.
He swung the door open, smiling. "Sorry. Lost track of time."
"As long as you didn't forget." William raised an eyebrow, but didn't press.
Moments later, they were cruising toward Upstate University in William's borrowed car.
"Reckless kid," Cecil muttered as the taillights disappeared. Still, he exhaled with relief. Eden wasn't like his mother, full of lies. He wasn't like his father, too perfect to even seem human. Eden felt… human. More than either of them.
He wasn't just talking. The GDA was monitoring Eden's vitals—heartbeat, hormone levels, microexpressions. Teams of psychologists combed through the data. The verdict was unanimous: as insane as Eden's words sounded, he was telling the truth.
Upstate University.
"Hey, William! Eden!" A cheerful voice rang out. "So glad you guys made it!"
William's long-time crush, a blonde bombshell with tan skin and a cheerleader's curves, waved them over. She was practically glowing with excitement. "I can't wait for the two of you to become my underclassmen."
Eden barely glanced at her. His eyes locked instead on the bulletin board behind her—covered with missing person posters.
His brow furrowed. Something about this campus visit was already screaming trouble.
From the shadows, a gaunt man with dark circles under his eyes watched intently. Black hair cropped short, a lab coat hanging loose around his shoulders, he looked every bit the mad scientist.
"That boy's body is flawless," he whispered. "Perfect for my experiment. Humanity's collective ascension… and he'll be the one to prove it."
His gaze burned into Eden, patient and calculating.
The hunt had already begun.