Chapter 30: Venting
The game kept going. Danny stayed active, calling for the ball and moving into position. That last shot had settled his nerves. He stopped hesitating.
He caught a pass near the top of the key, squared up, and took the shot. It went in clean.
On defense, he stuck with his assignment. When the ball moved to the other side, he shifted with it and got a hand up to contest. His legs were burning, but he stayed with the play.
The next rebound came in fast. Danny reached up, got a hand on it, and pulled it down. A defender moved in, but Danny stepped around him and passed to a teammate on the wing. The shot went up and in.
His teammates were talking now. Calling his name. Looking for him.
He ran to the floor again. They got a pass near the free-throw line, drove inside, and absorbed a bump on the way up. He stayed on his feet and banked the ball off the backboard.
"Come on, Bryce! Do something!" Dash yelled from the other end.
Danny glanced at him, then turned and ran back up the court.
Later, he took another shot from the wing. Made it. Then forced a turnover by knocking the ball loose and passing it ahead to a teammate, who scored on the fast break.
The bench cheered.
Danny kept playing. Caught a pass on the baseline, waited for the defender to move, then stepped around and laid it in. The next time down, he passed out of a double team for an open shot.
In a way, it was relieving to see Dash's frustration again since that one Halloween.
"Timeout!"
The other team huddled.
Danny walked to the bench, breathing hard. His shirt stuck to his back. One of the guys held up a fist, and Danny tapped it without saying much.
Back on the court, the tone shifted.
Dash started fouling.
It wasn't enough to draw a whistle. A shove right after the ball was passed. A smack at Danny's wrist while going for a rebound. A shoulder into his ribs as he cut through the paint. Every time, the same line: "My bad."
Danny didn't answer. He kept his eyes forward, hands ready. If Dash wanted to throw him off, he wasn't giving him the satisfaction.
Bryce joined in. Not as aggressive, but still careless. He boxed out with his elbows too wide. He reached in late on drives. He stepped across Danny's feet more than once.
Danny gritted his teeth. A part of him wanted to let go. Say the word. Use a spell, just once. Knock Dash flat.
But he didn't. He forced it down. Danny didn't want to imagine Stolas and Octavia's faces if they learned he had used magic to hurt people.
In the next play, Dash drove the lane. Danny stepped into his path. Dash dropped his shoulder, but Danny held firm. The ball came loose and rolled away.
Bryce dove for it. Danny got there first.
He grabbed the ball, pivoted, and looked up. Two defenders ahead.
He moved left, crossed right, kept the dribble tight. One of them reached. Danny kept going. He hit the layup off the glass.
Next time down, he passed early. His teammate missed. Dash snagged the rebound, pushed hard, and tried to go coast to coast.
Danny stayed in front. Dash tried to spin. Danny didn't bite. The shot bounced off the rim.
Another possession. Danny called for the ball near the top. He jabbed, then drove left. A second defender came up. He dumped it inside for an easy score.
On the next play, he tried cutting across the baseline. Dash stepped in late and caught him in the side with an elbow.
Danny stumbled. No whistle.
He stood, slowly.
He looked at Dash.
Dash smirked.
Danny didn't say a word. He checked back into position.
The ball came his way again. This time, he caught it in the corner, faked the shot, took one step in, and drilled the jumper.
#
During a timeout, David sat beside him. Quiet kid. Not part of the crowd that laughed when Dash made a scene. Just someone who actually practiced.
"Didn't know you had moves like that," David said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "You should try out."
Danny let out a breath through his nose, almost a laugh. "What?"
"You've landed all your shots so far," David said. "It's better than most this far in."
Danny didn't answer right away. He grabbed his water bottle and took a long drink. Compliments like that weren't common. And it didn't sit right knowing most of his best shots had been backed by spellwork. Even if he hadn't used anything in a while.
Especially not coming from David, who was out there actually grinding. No shortcuts.
"I don't think the team's for me," Danny said after a moment.
David nodded and didn't press.
Danny appreciated that. He also knew the real reason. Tryouts meant being around Dash every afternoon for practice and games. If they were on weekends, it meant less time with Stolas and Octavia…
After that, he stuck to defense. Closed passing lanes. Hustled for rebounds. On offense, he called for screens and looked for the open guy.
David cut through the lane. Danny saw the opening and dropped a quick bounce pass between two defenders. David scored on the layup.
Next play down, Cory got loose on the wing. Danny hit him with a fast chest pass right in stride. Another basket.
The ball came back around. Danny caught it at the top, waited for the defense to shift, then passed to the low post. Cory pivoted, went up, and hit the short hook shot.
Dash stopped paying attention to Danny after that. His focus turned to David and Cory, the new scorers. He pressed them harder. Got more aggressive. Danny took the hits when he had to, but he mostly stayed out of the crosshairs.
When Dash shoved Cory too hard on a rebound, the ref blew the whistle.
Next trip down, he set a screen. David used it, pulled up at the elbow, and knocked down the jumper. That tied the game.
Cory got a steal off a lazy pass. Danny ran the break with him but didn't call for the ball. Cory finished it on his own.
They took the lead.
Dash tried to answer back with a deep shot. Missed.
Danny snagged the rebound and held onto it until the clock ran out.
The whistle blew.
They'd won by a few.
Dash walked off without a word.
Danny dropped onto the bench. His shirt clung to his back. His legs throbbed from the last sprint. He drained the rest of his water and let his head fall back against the wall.
Someone clapped him on the shoulder on the way by. "Nice teamwork at the end, Fenton."
"I think I'm done with sports for a while…"
4th Period - Science
The overhead lights hummed. Students came in, dropping their bags and claiming seats with the usual mix of sluggishness and quiet chatter. The black lab tables stretched from wall to wall, still faintly tacky in spots despite the signs begging everyone to clean up after themselves.
At the front, Mr. Brady sipped from a battered mug and squinted at the projector. His goggles were shoved up into his hair, forgotten. Across the screen, blocky white text read: New Unit: Matter and Motion.
"Alright," he said, his voice already giving up on the day. "Time for physics. Let the excitement commence."
A few groans followed, but Tucker leaned closer with a small grin. "Magnets. Circuits. Potential salvage," he muttered.
Danny didn't answer. He was busy sketching in the corner of his notebook, something circular, with sharp edges curling inward like blades. It didn't mean anything. Not yet. But his mind was already elsewhere.
Maybe it was his parents' influence, but lately, he found himself thinking more and more about the rules behind magic. It clearly didn't follow the same laws as conventional physics, though some parts of it felt oddly familiar.
There were moments when he thought he saw an overlap between his parents' research into ectoplasm and the way magic energy behaved. That could wait. For now, he was more interested in figuring out where the limits of magic really were. And whether those limits could be bent.
Mr. Brady eventually shifted them into group work, pairing students off to run a short experiment with paper drop tests. Danny and Tucker grabbed their worksheet and moved to the back of the room to set up.
They didn't make it two steps before Dash bulldozed past.
His shoulder slammed into Tucker without hesitation. "Watch it, Foley," he muttered, already walking away.
Tucker staggered, caught himself on the table, but his glasses didn't survive the jolt. They slipped off his face and hit the floor with a sound that made Danny wince. A thin, too-quiet crack.
"Seriously?" Tucker crouched, already bracing for the worst.
Danny got there first. The glasses had a clean fracture across one lens, almost invisible, but definitely there. Mr. Brady was still at the front, distracted by a group trying to light a Bunsen burner without lighting themselves.
Danny slipped the glasses into his hands and quietly spoke the spell under his breath. A faint shimmer spread across the glass, like frost reversing itself. The crack vanished.
He handed them back without pause. "Here. Probably just a smudge or hairline scratch. Looked worse than it was."
Tucker blinked at them, then shrugged. "Huh. Lucky, I guess." He slid them back on and went right back to unfolding the worksheet.
Danny gave a small nod, but his eyes drifted back toward Dash. "If this keeps up, he thought, I'm going to be casting repairs every other period."
Lunch & Recess
Middle schoolers drifted toward the cafeteria in loose clumps, their voices blending into the usual lunchtime murmur. The best tables, under the ceiling fans or by the windows, were gone in seconds, claimed by the kids who always got there first.
Danny trailed near the back, lunch tray in hand, already regretting whatever was sitting on it. Today's offering: square pizza, soft canned vegetables, a scoop of fruit cocktail, and a handful of tossed salad that looked like it had been shaken in a bag and dumped by accident. Worse, it wasn't even the usual pizza. Different brand. Different outcome.
At a nearby table, a kid poked his slice with a plastic fork. "This pizza tastes like wet cardboard," he muttered, then proceeded to peel off the cheese like it had wronged him.
Danny took his usual seat near the edge of the room, away from the bigger groups and louder voices. Tucker was already there, seated across from him, busy mixing his fruit cocktail with chocolate pudding.
"For science," Tucker said without looking up.
Danny didn't respond. He just stared down at his pizza with quiet dismay. After a moment, he glanced around, then waited until Tucker's attention wandered, specifically to a girl passing by in a denim jacket. Once Tucker was sufficiently distracted, Danny slipped his hand under the table and whispered a small incantation.
A shimmer passed through the slice, brief and invisible. The crust warmed. Cheese softened and re-melted. The scent lifted, real pepperoni, buttery crust, toasted edges.
Danny took a bite. It didn't taste like magic. It tasted like something made in an actual kitchen.
"Oh wow," he mumbled through a mouthful. "That's… way better."
Tucker glanced over. "Wait, did they give you a different slice?"
Danny shrugged and kept chewing. "Maybe. Guess I got lucky."
Tucker squinted but moved on. He gave his pudding-fruit concoction one more stir before setting the spoon down. "Hey, when are we hanging out again? You, me, and Octavia?"
Danny swallowed and reached for his drink. "This weekend should work. Her dad's dropping her off Saturday afternoon. He's got work or something."
"What does Mr. Stolas even do again?" Tucker asked.
Danny leaned back slightly. "He's an astronomer."
"Yeah, I know that part. But what does he actually do? Like… for other people? Guy's loaded, right?"
Danny hesitated, picking at the corner of his napkin. "He comes from a rich family. But for work, yeah, he does... contracts. Deals. He helps people."
Tucker raised an eyebrow. "That's vague."
Danny nodded once. "It's complicated. Some people want his help for good reasons. Others… not so much."
"Sounds like a lawyer on TV." Tucker didn't push and nodded. "Fair enough. Still cool that he trusts her to hang out with us."
Danny smirked and took another bite of pizza. "It's probably more about getting her out of the house. And away from her mom."
Tucker gave a sympathetic wince and went back to stirring his lunch experiment. "Still. Saturday's gonna be fun."
"Yeah," Danny said, already thinking of which spell to practice next. "It will."
#
After lunch, students drifted across the schoolyard in loose knots. Some ran for the cracked asphalt court, trying to cram in a half-game before the bell. Others huddled beneath scraggly trees, thumbing through their phones or talking in low voices. A few disappeared into the library, chasing either silence or air conditioning.
Tucker had peeled off toward the computer lab to finish his robotics draft. Danny almost followed, but the sky felt too open to waste under fluorescent lights. He found a bench near the edge of the yard and sat down, shouldering off his backpack.
He pulled out his journal and opened to a blank page. Jazz called it emotional regulation. Stolas, of course, had called it "mental alignment for arcane discipline." Whatever. It helped.
He started writing.
Mom and Dad have been more distracted lately. The Ghost Portal's almost done, and I guess that's all they see now. I don't blame them exactly… It's their life's work. However, it sometimes feels like their work is more important.
Stolas actually listens. He checks in. It's not the same, but sometimes it feels nice. I don't know if that makes him a parent figure or just a better adult than I'm used to.
He thought for a moment.
Octavia's been hanging out more. It's been fun. It's easy with her. Less pressure. She doesn't treat me like I'm supposed to prove something every time I open my mouth. She makes things feel brighter than usual. I think I might be…
"Yo, check out Fenton," Dash scoffed. "Bet he's writing ."
Danny didn't look up. Just pressed his pen to the corner of the page and held still.
The crunch of shoes on dead grass closed in. Kwan and Dale didn't say anything, but they didn't have to. The air shifted around them.
Dash stepped forward and slammed his shoulder into Danny, harder than necessary. The impact knocked Danny half a step off balance. He caught himself against the edge of the bench, but the lunch tray he'd meant to return slipped from his grip and hit the ground with a loud rattle, apple slice skidding one way, carton of milk spinning the other.
His notebook dropped with it.
He reached down, too late.
Dash snatched it up with one hand and grinned like he'd just struck gold. The cover flapped open in his fingers, pages rustling as he thumbed through them.
"Let's see what sissy Fenton's diary says," he called, loud enough for other kids nearby to glance over.
Danny stepped forward. "Give it back."
Dash ignored him, landing on a page thick with messy, heavy pen strokes. He read aloud, tone mocking:
"'Dash Baxter is a walking migraine in human form. Built like a linebacker, thinks like a toaster.'"
Kwan snorted.
Dash blinked, eyes scanning faster, flipping the page.
"If yelling and breathing were Olympic sports, he'd still come in last. Can't finish a sentence without sounding like he's chewing gravel.'"
Dale started laughing. Loudly.
Danny didn't say a word. He stood there, fists clenched but still.
Dash's face tightened. His voice rose, louder now.
"'Brain the size of a jawbreaker, ego the size of his dad's truck. Can't spell 'win,' but he's got the tantrum part down.'"
That did it.
Kwan bent double, wheezing. Dale slapped his leg and had to lean on the bench.
Dash froze. The laughter wasn't with him anymore.
His grip on the notebook twitched.
Then he snapped. He hurled the journal at Danny's head with a choked, furious noise.
Danny didn't flinch. His hand snapped up on reflex, snatching it out of the air before it could connect. He met Dash's glare without blinking.
That was it.
Dash let out a shout and lunged forward, arm outstretched.
Danny spun and ran.
Chapter 31: Closing Bell
Danny bolted down the hall in a hurry. He rounded the corner near the band room, nearly colliding with a passing student.
A voice got his attention. "Young man!"
He froze.
Principal Ishida stood a few feet away, arms crossed. He gave Danny a hard stare. "Where's your hall pass?"
Danny's heart sank. He didn't have one, and the last thing he needed was detention.
His mind scrambled for a solution. 'Alright... just a quick illusion.' He flicked his fingers behind his back and whispered a phrase as he reached into his pocket.
"What was that, young man?"
Danny pulled out an unremarkable, slightly crumpled hall pass. "I said it's right here, sir." Danny held it up to the man.
Principal Ishida squinted at the slip, then gave a curt nod. "Get to class. And no more wandering the halls."
"Yes, sir." Danny tried to keep his relief from showing as he turned and walked away. Once he rounded the corner and was out of sight, the pass disintegrated in his hand. He exhaled slowly. "Too close."
5th Period - Music
The music room smelled antique. Stacked chairs lined the back wall. An upright piano sat in the corner. Posters of Mozart, Aretha Franklin, and Jimi Hendrix hung along the wall.
Danny slid into a seat near the back, still catching his breath from before. He finally looked at the whiteboard.
In thick marker, it read: INSTRUMENT ASSIGNMENT - CHOOSE YOUR VOICE
Ms. Corrine stood nearby and flipped through a folder. "Today, we start the practical side of music. Each of you will pick an instrument. You'll spend the next few weeks learning how to play it, and at the end, you'll perform something simple."
That got a few mutters and frowns.
"I'm not expecting miracles." She tapped the folder closed. "You don't need to impress me. Just put in the time. Pick something you're curious about."
The moment Ms. Corrine gestured toward the instrument closet, half the class launched from their seats.
Students crowded the shelves, grabbing what they recognized or thought looked cool. One kid wearing sunglasses called dibs on the saxophone. Someone else snatched a trumpet and immediately started buzzing into it. The first wave took the easy wins and most of the popular stuff.
Danny stayed in his chair, watching the rush with quiet detachment. By the time his name was called, the closet had been thoroughly picked over. A few leftovers were scattered across the shelves. He walked in anyway, spotting a banged-up tuba, a bent triangle, and a cracked tambourine. Danny checked behind a few boxes that had been shoved to the side. Near the wall under a folded tarp, he spotted a large, rectangular case. He had to drag it out with both hands. "Ms. Corrine?" he called out. "What's this one?"
She looked up from the attendance sheet. "That? Oh. That's the drum set. Most kids don't bother with it, too heavy."
Danny ran a hand over the case. The outside was scuffed, but the latches still held firm.
He stood there for a moment. Danny never tried drums. Never even considered them. But something about it pulled at him. "Alright. I'll take it."
Ms. Corrine raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "A unique choice. But fair."
Danny brought the case to his seat and opened it slowly. Inside, the kit was older, but clean. He ran a hand over the snare, feeling the faint texture.
'Magic wasn't easy either,' he thought. 'And I learned that.'
He picked up a stick and gave the edge of the drum a test tap. It made a dry, low sound yet satisfying. 'Yeah. I can work with this.'
6th Period - Social Studies
Danny and Tucker slid into their usual spots near the back.
Mr. Nestor shut the door and held up a folder. "Today, you're starting a group project. Choose a major historical event or theme, research it, and present your findings three weeks from now. I'll be assigning the groups."
A chorus of groans followed.
Danny sank into his chair. Group projects always meant one thing: doing most of the work himself while the lazy and popular kid coasted and still got the same grade.
Mr. Nestor skimmed the clipboard. "Daniel Fenton, Tucker Foley, you're together."
Danny nudged Tucker. "Dynamic Duo, back in action." It finally seemed fair.
Tucker adjusted his glasses. "We got this."
Mr. Nestor paused. "Hmm. Odd number. Your third partner will be… Samantha Manson."
A few students turned to glance at the back corner. Sam Manson, dressed in her usual layers of black and violet, didn't flinch. She grabbed her bag and walked over, more annoyed than surprised.
"Great," she muttered, dropping into the seat beside them.
Mr. Nestor didn't react. "Think of it as a benefit. You now have three people to split the work."
Danny and Tucker exchanged a look. Neither said anything.
"Alright," Mr. Nestor continued. "Let's move into the next chapter. I'll pass out the syllabus after we review, and then you'll have time to meet with your group and plan."
#
As Mr. Nestor launched into the finer points of the assignment, Danny, Tucker, and Sam sat together in a triangle of silence.
They knew each other by name. The school wasn't that big, but this was the first time any of them had actually shared an extended conversation.
Tucker gave a small wave. "Uh… hey. I'm Tucker, officially."
Danny nodded beside him. "And I'm Danny. Also officially."
Sam crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "Sam. Obviously."
There was a pause.
Danny glanced at the whiteboard, then back at their table. "So… any ideas?"
Sam didn't hesitate. "Revolutions."
Tucker blinked. "That's broad."
"French Revolution." She was already settling in like the matter was closed. "It mattered. The people got fed up and tore the whole system apart. Real stakes."
Tucker frowned. "Yeah, not would I call fun to research."
Sam shrugged. "It's history. Not a TV special."
Danny scratched the side of his neck. "Sure, but there are other options."
Tucker leaned forward. "We were actually thinking about the Space Race. Figured we'd stick with what we planned."
Sam tilted her head. "You already picked something?"
Danny shrugged. "We talked about it earlier. A lot happened in that era."
Tucker tapped his tablet. "It was this insane burst of progress
We had rockets, satellites, and computing. I can already imagine making a visual timeline. You could literally chart human advancement by the month."
"Yeah, people were dreaming bigger. We were literally reaching for the stars."
Sam didn't look impressed. "Nothing says 'for the greater good' like wasting government funds to see who can build the bigger missile."
Tucker rolled his eyes. "It wasn't about missiles."
"Wasn't it?"
Danny sat back, letting the two of them go at it and bounce back-and-forth. Both dug in. He imagined them at war, metaphorically. Sam at the barricades with a flag in one hand and a protest sign in the other. Tucker launched rockets with a computer on his wrist. That image lingered for a beat. Then it clicked. He stepped between their verbal trench. "Wait. There's a way to make this work. What if we zoom out? Just… cover the Cold War as a whole."
They both looked at him.
Danny kept going. "It includes the Space Race. That whole competition started because of Cold War tension. But it also has all the messy politics for you to go over.
'Grassroots movements... Questionable government operations…' thought Sam.
Tucker's shoulders eased. "So we don't lose the Space Race."
"Nope."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Remind everyone to beware the surveillance states and their propaganda? That's... actually not bad. I can work with that."
Danny exhaled. "Great. Then it's settled." Danny leaned back in his chair. "Finally."
Three weeks didn't feel so bad now. 'Er… Maybe I'm speaking too soon.
Afternoon
The final bell rang, and students were ready to head home. Danny had to stop by the music room again to pick up the drum case and a form about damage liability.
He propped the case near a bench and pulled out his phone.
It rang once. "Fentonworks!" Jack answered.
"Hey, Dad. Can you come pick me up? I've got, uh, a drum set. For school."
There was a long pause, followed by what sounded like a wrench hitting metal. "You're what-ing a drum set?" Jack asked, distracted.
"It's for a class project."
"I was in the middle of calibrating the ghost containment…"
Danny heard the phone shift.
"Danny?" Maddie's voice now. Calm. Clear. "Jack will be there in ten minutes."
Danny sighed. "Thanks, Mom."
He hung up, sat on the bench, and stared at the drum case. It looked bigger now that he wasn't moving it.
Ten minutes later, the unmistakable sound of the Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle rounded the corner.
Danny stood, ignoring the curious looks from passing students, and rolled the case over.
Jack leaned out the window. "So. You join the marching band and forget to tell us?"
Danny shrugged. "Long-term project. Music class."
"Ah." Jack popped the back hatch. "Still proud. Just checking."
They loaded the case into the van with some creative angling. The ride home was short, save for a brief tangent from Jack about the acoustic properties of banshees.
At home, Danny grabbed his backpack and started upstairs. Jack followed behind, dragging the drum case.
At the landing, Maddie leaned out from the kitchen. "Homework?"
"Yeah, I'm on it."
"Eat something before you do."
"I will." Danny went back for a snack from the fridge and headed into his room. He took time to clear some space and set up the drum kit.
It took longer than expected. The diagram helped, but only barely. He had to reposition the hi-hat twice before it stopped wobbling. The snare legs weren't even at first. One of the toms had a bolt missing, but he found a spare. Eventually, it all came together.
Danny stepped back. The kit filled the corner of the room, snug but solid. He gave one of the toms a quick tap.
"Danny," Maddie called. "Octavia's here!"
He jogged down and opened it. Octavia stood there with a bag of snacks. "Hey."
"Hey."
"I'm here, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton!" she called out toward the basement.
"Welcome back, Octavia! Danny's home."
"I know."
They went upstairs, and Octavia stared at the drum set in his room. "When did you start playing this?"
"Literally today." Danny dropped onto his chair. "Long-term music assignment."
She raised an eyebrow. "You don't strike me as a drummer."
"Neither did I. Thought it might be interesting."
"I suppose." Octavia crossed the room and flopped onto his bed, landing sideways with practiced ease. "So," She propped her chin on her hand. "How was school? And I mean the parts when you used magic."
Danny leaned back in his chair. Gave a faint smile."It's a mixed bag. Magic's been good for the small stuff. I could use the small wins."
Octavia shifted on the bed, propping herself up on one elbow. "Define 'small.'"
He hesitated. "There was a basketball game."
She immediately rolled her eyes. "Let me guess. You used magic to become the star player, and now you're Mr. Popular?"
"Not really… I mean, at first, yeah. It felt good. Showing up Dash's team."
"Oh, you were against Dash? Screw him, I guess."
Danny scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, well… once I started doing better than him, he and his buddies kept shoulder-checking and fouling me the entire game."
Octavia sat up straighter. "Never mind. Screw him."
Danny gave a small laugh. "One of the nicer guys on my team complimented me after. Said I did great. It didn't feel as good as I thought it would."
She tilted her head, not surprised. "Told you."
"I know." He sighed. "I figured using a bit of magic to just… not suck was fine. Just enough to not drag the team down."
"That's not as bad, I guess."
"In hindsight, though… I don't think I want the spotlight. Not like that. I don't want to make enemies."
Octavia grinned. "Even if it means not getting the attention of all the pretty girls at school?"
Danny raised a brow. "Why would I do that when I have y-" He stopped, eyes widening slightly. His face flushed as he looked away. "Um…"
Octavia's cheeks went a little pink. She gave a small nod, looking down at her lap. "Oh… well, that's good."
Danny reached over to the stack of papers on his desk, grabbing the music sheet he'd printed earlier. Thinking fast, he held it out. "Come help me with this."
She took the page without question and slid off the bed. "Sure."
Chapter 32: Alpha Testing
Fenton Lab
Maddie had gone out to pick up a shipment of calibrated sensors, leaving Jack Fenton alone with the Ghost Portal.
Jack crouched by the console and pulled at a knot of tangled wires. He muttered to himself. "Okay. Red goes to relay. Blue to capacitor. Yellow..." He held up a stripped wire. "Wait. Why is there a yellow?"
He paused, then shrugged and twisted the wire into place anyway. He hadn't installed the activation switch yet, so it wasn't like anything could-.
A spark jumped from the connection. The floor vibrated. A low hum vibrated through the soles of his boots. The metal ring of the portal ignited. The interior did not glow with the green hue of the Ghost Zone. White light filled the circle. Gold particulates drifted near the edges.
Jack blinked behind his goggles. "That is not right."
He checked the monitors.
"Seems ecto-energy adjacent." He tilted his head. "Close enough."
He reached for a tool on the workbench. The prototype Fenton Ghost Fisher combined a grappling hook with a high-tension winch. He aimed the device at the portal. "Let us see what is on the other side."
He pulled the trigger. The line shot forward and vanished into the white glare. The cable went slack for a moment. Then the line jerked.
Jack grinned. "Gotcha."
He cranked the reel. The motor whined. A heavy object slid across the metal floor. Jack picked it up. It was a thick book. The leather cover felt heavy in his hands. Gold leaf coated the page edges. He read the title aloud.
"The Unabridged History of the Universe by Metatron."
Jack frowned. "This isn't ghostly at all."
He set the book on a nearby table and walked to the chalkboard. He grabbed an eraser and wiped away his previous calculations. Jack paused, glanced back at the portal, when he thought he heard something.
"Maybe it's just another hotspot on earth," he muttered. Still curious, Jack leaned toward the light, then stuck his head through. What he saw was not a ghost zone.
He saw a room. Massive marble walls surrounded him. Shelves stretched upward beyond his sightline. Ladders with gold trim rolled along ornate rails.
Jack pulled back. "Dang. Just some library in Europe or somethin'." Jack grabbed the screwdriver. "Another failure."
After turned his back on the white light and the stolen book, he returned to the control panel for more adjustments.
Heaven, Master Archive
Emily floated above the floor. She cradled a stack of books organized by divine category. A stray page stuck to her messy curls. She hummed a tune.
Across the room, a winner with spider limbs snored at a table. One of the winner's lower arms twitched. Emily patted the girl on the head. She moved to the next stack and grabbed a volume. It did not move.
"Huh?"
Emily tugged again. The book pulled back. She frowned, looked down, and saw a fishing hook embedded in the spine.
"What in-?"
She followed the line upward. A glowing portal hummed in the air. The tug came again. The book flew up and vanished through the light.
Emily gasped. Her six wings flared. She shot up after it and hesitated just inches from the rift. Slowly, Emily peeked her head through.
A large and broad-shouldered human stood there. wearing a grime-stained orange jumpsuit. He held the book in one hand and muttered while he wrote equations on a chalkboard.
Emily scrambled back into Heaven. She turned and flew from the room.
"Sera! I need Sera!"
Behind her, the man stuck his head through the portal. He looked around the empty library and frowned in disappointment before pulling back.
Seraphim Tower
Sera sat behind a desk, halfway through a tall stack of divine memos. She didn't look up when the door slammed open. "Emily?"
Emily skidded to a stop, breathless. "Sera, you gotta come to the Master Library right now."
Sera sighed. "Did someone return a book late again?"
"No, no, no! You have to see what's in there!"
Sera arched a brow. "What kind of emergency are we talking about?"
"Some human just built a portal from Earth to Heaven!"
Sera blinked. "Emily… humanity isn't capable of that."
"That's what I thought!" Emily grabbed Sera's sleeve and tugged. "Just trust me. Please!"
"…Very well."
Back in the Archive
Emily burst through the door. Sera followed close behind. Emily pointed toward the ceiling. "Look. See?"
Empty space greeted them. The portal was gone.
Sera crossed her arms. "Okay. I give up. What am I supposed to see?"
A sleeping angel snored in the corner. Nothing was in the room.
Emily looked around the room. "No. It isn't possible."
Sera turned toward the exit. "I am going back to work."
"Wait. Sera." Emily flapped after her. "I swear it was here."
Sera did not slow down.
Emily hovered in the doorway. She looked back at the empty air one last time. "It was right here. It was huge. Sera, you have to believe me."
Elsewhere
Abel stepped out of the kitchen carrying a tray piled high with a full rack of ribs. He crossed the dining room and set it carefully on the table. "Here's your ribs, Dad." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and headed back into the kitchen.
Then, a glowing white-and-gold portal blinked open above the table. A thin silver fishing line shot down, hooked the ribs, and zipped them up into the light. The portal winked out.
A few seconds later, Adam entered the room and sat down. He reached for his fork, looked at the tray, and paused. "…Huh? Abel, where's my dinner?"
From the kitchen: "Did you look under the tray?"
"Oh no, I didn't. Sorry." Adam tilted the tray upward and saw nothing. Why did he believe that? Adam frowned and set it down. "Abel, could you just get my ribs?"
Abel stepped halfway back into the doorway. "They vanished?" He started trembling, eyes darting upward. "Dad… do you think Heaven is haunted by demons?"
Adam blinked. "What?
Abel backed toward the door, chewing on a fingernail. "What if they come for me next?" He turned, bolting toward the exit. "I gotta get out of here!"
Adam stepped in front of him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Abel. There are no demons here."
Abel stopped, looked around slowly, then gave a shaky nod. "…Oh."
"Now, get me my food like I asked!"
"Yes, Dad." The angelic son returned to the kitchen to cook again.
Fenton Lab
Danny stepped carefully down the stairs into the lab, a dish towel still draped over his shoulder.
"Hey, Dad? Mom wants the kitchen cleared so she can start prep. Said something about 'you better not be using the counter as a tool rack again.'"
He reached the bottom step and stopped.
The portal stood dark and inactive, humming faintly the way it always did when powered down. But something smelled… amazing.
Danny squinted toward the workbench and spotted his dad sitting on a stool with a plate piled high with ribs, sauce glistening under the lab lights.
"Whoa. Where'd you get that?"
Jack looked up mid-bite, his cheeks puffed out slightly. "Uh… takeout," he said after swallowing. "Pretty good, huh?" He reached over and held out another rib like it was no big deal. "Try one."
Danny hesitated exactly one second before taking it.
He bit in. His eyes widened.
"This is delicious!"
"I know, right?" Jack beamed.
Danny went in for another bite. "Think we can get these again later on?"
Jack paused, wiped his fingers on a nearby rag, and cleared his throat. "Uh… I don't think so."
Danny looked up, mid-chew. "Why not?"
Jack smiled in that sheepish, trying-not-to-explain-something way. "Let's just say... international shipping might be complicated."
Danny stared. "International?"
"Europeans can seemingly cook some good ribs." Jack busied himself with another rib. "Anyway, you tell your mom I'll be up in five."
Later that Month
It took Jack a few tries, but eventually, he managed to stop the portal from opening in "Europe."
Unfortunately, that progress came at the direct expense of a certain Seraphim's patience.
#
Emily yanked Sera by the arm across one of Heaven's many parks, past benches, fountains, and glowing flowerbeds. The portal had shown up again. This time, while she was helping plant golden root near the community garden.
She pointed toward a tree, her head turned slightly away. "There, look, look, look, see? I told you I'm not crazy, I told you!"
Sera raised an eyebrow, deadpan. "And you're not crazy because…?"
Emily turned toward the tree. The portal was gone, and she screamed.
Sera didn't flinch. "I see your point, Emily. No crazy angel would scream at a post like that." She started walking. "I'll be getting lunch if you wanna come yell at some tables or anything."
Seraphim Tower
Emily tugged Sera through another hallway. They stopped in front of an ornate door with a gold-inlaid frame.
Sera crossed her arms. "Okay, we're here. Are you happy now, Emily?"
Emily practically bounced in place, laughing under her breath. She peeked inside and beamed at the portal. "Yes!" She spun toward Sera and gestured toward the room without looking again. "See, Sera? I told you it's here!"
Sera calmly poked her head into the office. She smiled. "Oh, hello, Abel."
Emily blinked. Her eyes flew open. Inside, Abel had just stepped through a side door, arms full of books and srcolls, but the portal was gone… again!
He looked up. "Hi, Sera. I'll have me and my dad's invoices submitted later today."
"Thank you, Abel."
Emily stood frozen, her mouth slightly open.
Sera stepped back and turned smoothly. "Come on, Emily. You've delayed me long enough. You'll be helping me with the next batch of paperwork in addition to your own"
Emily sputtered. "But, but, but, but, but, but, but-"
"Let's go," Sera grabbed her sleeve mid-sputter and pulling her down the hall.
"But, but-"
"Let's go."
#
Adam screams at an empty takeout bag just as he left a restaurant in Heaven. "Who keeps stealing my food?!" This was the fourth time this month.
Later That Week
Fenton House
There were laptops and thick library books on Danny's dining room table. Scattered papers were close to spilling onto the floor.
"Okay, so get this." Tucker leaned back in his chair. He pointed a finger at his laptop screen. "The computer that got Apollo 11 to the moon had less power than one of those singing fish plaques."
Danny grinned. He highlighted a paragraph about the Soyuz program. "So we could get to the moon with a PDA and a novelty bass?"
"Theoretically," Tucker replied with complete seriousness. "But the singing might annoy you to death."
A frustrated sigh came from the other side of the table. Sam slammed a heavy book shut. Its title was A People's History of the Post-War World. "It doesn't matter. Capitalism, Communism. Both have the people in power keeping the little guy down." She scowled at her own notes. "Nothing's changed."
A sharp knock came from the front door.
Danny's eyes widened, and his hands froze over the keyboard. Tuesday. He had completely forgotten it was Tuesday. "I'll get it." He pushed his chair back and hurried out of the dining room. He pulled the door open, and Octavia stood on the porch. She was dressed in dark, fitted jeans and a t-shirt for a band he had never heard of. A small, knowing smile touched her lips. "Hey." Danny let out a breath. "Via. I am so sorry. I totally spaced that you were coming over today." He gestured back toward the dining room. "I have Tucker and a classmate inside. We're stuck doing a history project."
Octavia's smile did not falter and glanced past his shoulder. "It's fine. It has been a while since I have seen Tucker." She looked back at Danny. "Let me help. The faster you finish, the sooner we can hang out."
A wave of relief washed over Danny. He nodded and stepped back to let her in, leading her toward the dining room.
From the table, Tucker's face lit up. "Via! What's up? Didn't think we'd see you today."
"My schedule opened up." Her attention settled on the other person at the table. Her smile tightened.
Sam had turned in her seat. Her research was forgotten. She took in Danny's flustered expression, then the new girl who carried herself with an unnerving amount of confidence. Sam's brow furrowed. Her expression mirrored Octavia's own sudden, analytical stare.
They looked at each other. Then, they both turned their heads to Danny.
"Who's she?"