Meanwhile, in Max's room, sunlight poured in through half-closed blinds, illuminating scattered tools, wires, and comic books. A synthesized voice echoed from his bedside speaker.
"Hello, Mr. Albert the Junior. It's time to wake up."
Max groaned, rolled over, and rubbed his eyes. "Good morning, Dad."
"Good morning, son," came the cheerful voice of his father from the hallway.
"Go get cleaned up. Your mom made pancakes. Your favorite."
Max shot up in bed. "Wait, really?!"
"Yup," his dad replied, chuckling.
Max jumped off the bed, but his dad paused at the doorway.
"Hey, buddy," he said, softer now. "You know your mom loves you, right? She only gets mad because she's scared. She doesn't want you to be alone in this world. That kind of life... isn't good."
Max looked down, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I get it. It's just... sometimes I don't know what comes over me. I can't control it."
His dad smiled, warm and teasing. "Maybe it's puberty."
Max gave him a deadpan look. "That's not funny."
His father burst out laughing and disappeared down the hall.
Outside the door, Max's mother stood with folded arms, listening to every word. A smile touched her lips. Relief softened her face . For the first time in a long while, her boy felt normal again.
Max bounded down the stairs, fully dressed and backpack slung over his shoulder, a bounce in his step and a grin on his face. He was practically skipping toward the kitchen table when he caught a glimpse of his mom by the stove, flipping the last pancake onto a plate.
Something in her posture—something quiet, tired, and deeply familiar—pulled him to a stop.
Without a word, Max stepped into the kitchen, walked straight over to her, and wrapped his arms around her.
"Mom," he said softly. "I'm sorry... and I love you."
His mom froze for just a second, spatula in hand, before she laughed under her breath. A warm, surprised laugh. She turned and hugged him back.
"I love you too, Max," she said, squeezing his shoulders. "But eat first. Or you're going to miss the bus."
Max's eyes widened. "Oh yeah—the bus!"
He sprang away from the hug like he'd been launched, plopped into his chair, and started shoveling pancakes into his mouth with impressive speed. Just as he washed down the last bite with a gulp of juice, the unmistakable honk of the school bus echoed outside.
"Thanks, Mom! Thanks, Dad! Love you!" Max called out as he grabbed his bag and darted toward the front door.
"Don't forget your tablet!" his dad called after him.
"Got it!"
With one final wave, Max was out the door.
Across town, Sierra stirred awake in her bed. The light coming through her window was soft and golden, but her senses were sharper than usual. She felt—different.
Lighter.
She sat up, rubbing her arms. It was like the air had less weight this morning, like her body moved more easily through it. But she shook the feeling off. Probably just nerves. Or maybe excitement.
Today was her first day at Norton High. No time for weird thoughts.
She moved through her routine quickly, putting on a clean outfit, tying her hair with precision, and making sure her bag was packed. Her heart thumped in her chest—not out of fear, but from the overwhelming desire to make a good first impression. New school. New people. She needed this to go right.
Downstairs, the smell of toast and coffee greeted her.
Her mom slid a plate across the table as she entered. "Eat something, even if it's just a few bites. You'll need the energy."
Her dad leaned against the counter, keys in hand, smiling wide. "Want a ride today? You can make your dramatic debut in the Norton High parking lot."
Sierra raised an eyebrow. "I don't know about dramatic, but... yeah. That actually sounds good."
As she grabbed her toast and thermos, she turned back to her mom. "Thanks for the breakfast. And... for being patient. I know I've been kind of a lot lately."
Her mom came over and kissed her forehead. "It's a new start. That's always hard. But you'll be fine. You're strong."
They all stepped out together. The Jeep rumbled to life, and Sierra sat in the passenger seat, twisting her fingers in her lap.
"You'll do great," her dad said, eyes on the road. "Try to be yourself. Even if yourself is a little scary sometimes."
Sierra laughed. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."
"I'm serious," he said. "The right people will see you for who you are."
They pulled up near the school gates just behind the large yellow school bus.
At the same time, a worn-out bicycle wheeled steadily down the road toward Norton High.
Alex pedaled hard, his bag heavy on his back. He could already see the school building up ahead—brick and steel, banners for fall sports fluttering at the gate.
Then the school bus roared past him with a blast of exhaust. He barely had time to blink before it pulled up in front of the school.
He rolled his eyes. "Show-off bus."
As Alex reached the front entrance, he slowed.
Kids were pouring off the bus, laughing, talking, jostling backpacks.
Then two familiar faces stepped down.
Max and Sierra .
He blinked. They blinked. Their eyes followed his line of sight—just in time to see a black Jeep pull up behind the bus.
Sierra stepped down and turned just in time to catch Max's shocked expression.
All three stood in place for a moment, half-staring at one another.
Three kids. One high-tech pod. One weird, impossible night.
And now—one school.
"What are the chances?" Max finally said, adjusting his glasses.
"A million to one or maybe none," Alex muttered.
"Or maybe," Sierra added, smirking faintly, "fate has a bizarre sense of humor."
They stood there for a moment longer, the school bell chiming in the background.
Together, they turned and walked through the front gates.
Maybe this was just school.
Or maybe... this was just the next chapter.