A low hum filled the secure room inside Area 405 — sound of deep heavy breaths. Armed guards stood at every corner, still as statues. But their presence paled before the quiet authority radiating from the man seated at the table.
General William Adams.
War hero. Former frontline commander. A general who could have stayed in power but chose retirement — not because he was tired, but because he hated politics.
His reputation carried so much weight that even full colonels straightened when he merely breathed.
And right now, he was leaning over Steven's shoulder, staring at the screen full of stolen Russian military secrets.
Blueprints of hypersonic missiles. UAV specifications. Experimental jet schematics. Weapons in testing phases.
The moment General Adams finished reviewing the Russian intelligence Steven had brought, his expression shifted—slowly, dangerously.
"Boy, what you brought me…" Adams murmured, voice deep with controlled astonishment,"…is the kind of intel nations spend billions chasing."
Steven shrugged lightly. "They hit us first."
Adams let out a breath somewhere between a laugh and disbelief.
He immediately straightened and pulled out his encrypted phone. He contacted the higher authority and relayed the intel.
"Come with me." He told Steven.
Steven glanced up. "Me? Where?"
Adams gave him a reassuring look — fatherly, protective, unshakeable.
"Relax, boy. They just need to confirm the intel. I'll be right beside you."
And just like that, Steven found himself guided through sliding steel gates and deeper into a restricted sector: Site Kappa.
A facility few even knew existed.
Inside, the conference chamber felt like a war council — circular table, dim lights reflecting off metal, screens displaying live security feeds.
There sat:
- Brigadier General Hale — stone-faced, sharp-eyed
- Two directors from Cyber Command — analysts with minds sharper than surgical blades
- And a silent intelligence officer, observing everything
Steven was led to his seat, but before he could sit—
General Adams pulled out the chair for him.
A gesture that made every officer stiffen.
Because the message was unmistakable: This boy is under my protection. Treat him with respect.
"Mr. Blake," Brigadier Hale began, voice level, "What you've brought us is extraordinary… almost unbelievable. We need to understand how you acquired it."
Steven leaned back calmly.
"They kept attacking my company, Griffin Tech. The firewall systems that were there were quite weak. So I installed a new one and traced their intrusion. After all the trouble they caused, I decided it was only fair to get something in return. So I paid them a visit and took what I deserved "
There was no arrogance in his voice — just truth.
Adams folded his arms like a king listening to a bard recite a tale.
Hale exchanged glances with his team.
"Would you be willing," he asked carefully, "to demonstrate your defensive system? Purely voluntary."
Adams added, tone softer: "You don't have to, boy. Only if you want to."
Steven nodded. "I can show you. But I need a device, any laptop or PC."
With a nod from Brigadier General Hale a laptop was given to Steven.
He slid his USB into the isolated workstation.
A soft hum. A flicker.
And then—Aegis Cyberdome interface popped up. The interface bloomed across the screen like a digital aurora.
Layered shields. Threat-mapping grids. Adaptive AI tracking. False-information injection nodes. Auto-trace-back algorithms weaving like living circuitry.
Silence washed over the room.
One Cyber Command director whispered, barely audible:
"This… This is beyond next-generation… It's decades ahead."
Another murmured,
"This is—this architecture. It's leagues ahead of even China and Russia…"
General Adams shot them a smug glance, pride radiating like heat.
"This boy built it."
Steven didn't comment.
Then—a soft ping.
Incoming hostile signal. Unknown origin. Attempted breach.
Steven raised an eyebrow. "How convenient."
He tapped a key.
Aegis seized the intrusion in 0.4 seconds.
Instead of blocking it, Steven smirked and sent a harmless packet of junk data — a children's nursery rhyme file.
Across the table, one officer choked on his coffee.
"You—you're trolling foreign military intelligence?"
Steven shrugged. "They started it."
Even the Brigadier couldn't hide his surprise.
"This system, Mr. Blake, has the potential to revolutionize our entire cyber-defense framework. If deployed across our military and government servers, it could safeguard us against any cyber attacks or data breaches for at least the next five to ten years."
Steven remained calm.
But before anyone else could speak—
General Adams leaned forward, palms on the table, voice dropping into a tone every soldier in the nation respected:
"Let's get something clear."
His presence intensified. Even the air seemed to listen.
"This boy brought us intelligence worth billions."
He swept a hard gaze across the officers.
"And you want his firewall. His cooperation. His genius. But you haven't offered him a damn thing."
The officers straightened immediately — chastised, but respectful.
Adams continued:
"If you want Aegis Cyberdome — if you want his help — you offer him recognition. Protection. Partnership. "
Brigadier Hale swallowed.
Then, slowly — respectfully — he opened a black folder.
"Mr. Blake… We have no intention of treating you unfairly. On the contrary—"
He slid a document and a ceremonial badge toward Steven.
"This is an honorary appointment: Cyber Defense Advisor — Level 4 Clearance.
You will not be bound by orders. You will not be under military authority.
But it grants you national protection, project access, and direct communication lines with our department."
Steven blinked.
Adams grinned and slapped his back.
"You see? Told you they'd come to their senses."
Steven considered it for a moment — then nodded. "I accept."
Brigadier Hale exhaled with relief and extended his hand.
Steven shook it. A formal handshake. A historic one.
And with that handshake, several young officers saluted Steven, their eyes brimming with respect and admiration. Steven Blake had become the youngest military advisor in history.