Chapter 40: The Chain of Command
Dr. Evelyn Mercer stood at the large, tinted window of her office, the glass cold under her fingertips. From here, she could see the Academy’s sprawling grounds—its white, sterile buildings gleaming under the afternoon sun. From this vantage point, everything looked orderly, controlled. Yet she knew that beneath the surface, cracks were starting to form.
Jonas Keene’s arrival had unsettled that control. The Special Task Force had always been part of the Academy’s structure, but Keene had taken things further. His methods were more direct, more forceful. And as much as Mercer hated to admit it, she was starting to lose her grip.
Behind her, the door to her office slid open with a quiet hiss.
“Dr. Mercer,” Jonas Keene’s voice was crisp, clipped. No pleasantries, no false politeness. He never bothered with those. “We need to talk.”
Mercer didn’t turn around immediately. She kept her gaze on the window, watching the students moving in orderly lines below, unaware of the eyes constantly monitoring them.
“I assume this is about Foster and Blackwell,” she said, her voice as calm as ever.
Keene stepped forward, his boots making precise clicks against the polished floor. “You assume correctly. Their interaction in the common area was… interesting.”
Mercer finally turned, meeting Keene’s gaze. His dark, hawk-like eyes were always focused, always assessing. She could see why the Academy leadership trusted him. He was a man who got things done, no matter the cost.
“And what did you expect, Jonas?” Mercer asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. “That two traumatized boys would suddenly integrate and become model students?”
“They’re not just boys,” Keene replied, his tone hardening. “They’re Class 5 metahumans. And they are a threat. The footage from Galewood is proof enough of that.”
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Mercer crossed her arms, leaning back slightly against the edge of her desk. “We’ve been over this. Containment and knowledge is our top priority. We’re not completely running a military operation here. We can’t just treat them like prisoners, or we’ll lose control of the public narrative.”
Keene’s lips thinned into a line. “And what do you think happens when we lose control of the students, Doctor? They’re already spreading rumors, and you’re not exactly helping by allowing them to roam free.”
Mercer’s eyes narrowed. Keene always pushed, always challenged her authority. But she wasn’t about to let him dictate how things ran in her Academy. Not yet.
“They’re not roaming free,” she said coldly. “They’re being observed. Every interaction is being monitored. If anything, their presence among the general population will help ease suspicions. The last thing we need is for the students to confirm we’re hiding something.”
Keene’s silence was unnerving. He studied her for a moment, his eyes calculating. Mercer hated that look. He was always assessing, always looking for the next move.
“I understand your strategy, Doctor,” he said finally. “But there’s a point where control through observation becomes ineffective. They’re unpredictable. Especially Blackwell. His emotional detachment… it’s concerning.”
“Which is why we’re continuing our tests,” Mercer replied sharply. “You handle security, Jonas. Leave the rest to me.”
There was a pause, the air between them heavy with tension.
Keene didn’t back down easily, and Mercer knew that. He was already playing the long game, positioning himself for more influence over this branch of the Academy. But she wasn’t about to let him take over.
“I have talked to Dr.Vance about additional containment measures for both Foster and Blackwell,” Keene said, his voice low. “Stronger inhibitors. More direct control. I think it’s time we consider it.”
Mercer’s jaw clenched. “You and Vance have your own agendas. But I believe the inhibitors already in place are sufficient.”
“Are they?” Keene’s tone was challenging. “You’ve seen the footage,the data, Mercer. Foster and Blackwell are capable of far more than we initially thought. The current inhibitors might not hold if they decide to truly push the limits.”
“I know what they’re capable of,” Mercer snapped, her calm veneer cracking for just a moment. “And I know how to manage them.”
Keene’s expression didn’t change, but Mercer could sense his doubt. He didn’t trust her methods, and she didn’t trust his.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The hum of the air filtration system filled the silence between them, a constant reminder of the sterile environment they operated in.
Finally, Keene nodded, though there was no real concession in his movement. “We’ll continue monitoring them closely. But if things get out of hand, I’ll be ready to step in. We can’t afford any more… incidents.”
Mercer watched as he turned to leave, his back stiff and posture controlled. She hated the way he made her feel—like she was always one step away from losing her grip. Keene had the Academy’s leadership behind him, and that made him dangerous. But she had built this branch of the Academy from the ground up, and she wasn’t about to let someone like Keene undermine that.
As the door slid shut behind him, Mercer exhaled slowly, letting the tension in her shoulders ease just a fraction.
“Jonas Keene thinks he can dictate how this place is run,” she muttered to herself. “He’ll learn soon enough.”
But deep down, she knew that the game was getting more complicated. Keene wasn’t going to stop pushing, and the more control he gained, the harder it would be to keep the Academy under her thumb.