The moving truck rumbled ahead of them, kicking up thin trails of dust that shimmered in the late Oregon sun. Connor Blake leaned against the car window, watching the line of pine trees blur by. He traced one with his finger across the glass until his sister's reflection appeared beside his.
"Are we there yet?" Sophie asked for the third time in ten minutes.
"You've asked that so many times," Connor said with a grin, "I think the GPS got offended."
Sophie puffed her cheeks. "You said that last time!"
"And it was true last time too," he teased, reaching over to ruffle her hair. She squealed and swatted his hand away.
From the driver's seat, Daniel Blake gave a quiet laugh. "Keep it down back there, you two. Your mother's already stressed enough with this move."
"I'm not stressed," Elena said, though the way her hands gripped the travel mug said otherwise. "I'm just hoping this house really has a functioning washing machine this time."
"You're the one who picked it," Daniel replied lightly.
"I picked it based on the pictures. And pictures lie."
Connor smirked. "So does Sophie when she says she doesn't hide candy under her bed."
"Connor!" she gasped. "Traitor!"
The car filled with laughter, the kind that only comes from a family that's used to chaos and love tangled together.
After another half hour, the highway signs for Ridgefield appeared. It wasn't a big city — more like a quiet green pocket tucked between forests and farmland. New roofs glinted in the afternoon light, and a water tower stood tall with a painted hawk on it. The sight made Connor's father exhale softly.
"Home for the next few years," Daniel said.
Connor's mother smiled. "It's peaceful. I think we'll like it here."
They pulled up to a small two-story house on a hill. The air smelled faintly of rain and cedar.
Connor jumped out first, stretching his arms. "Not bad," he said, taking it in, the squeaky porch steps, the half-mowed lawn, the garage door with a dent in the corner. It wasn't perfect, but it felt alive.
"Hey, Dad," he called, "I can help with the boxes."
"Appreciate it, champ. Careful with your leg, though."
Connor nodded automatically. He hated when people said that — like his leg was still broken, like it defined him. But he brushed it off, grabbing two boxes and carrying them inside with ease.
Sophie followed close behind, dragging a smaller box labeled TOYS. "This one's the most important!" she declared proudly.
"Obviously," Connor said. "It's got the world's entire plushie economy inside."
She giggled and ran ahead.
The inside of the house smelled faintly of wood polish and dust. Sunlight streaked through half-drawn curtains, lighting up motes in the air. Connor walked through the narrow hall, peeking into rooms, a cozy kitchen, a living room with a stone fireplace, and a staircase that creaked like it was alive.
"Your room's upstairs, end of the hall!" Elena called. "We'll start unloading in the garage."
"Got it!"
Connor climbed the stairs two at a time. His new room was plain, bare walls, a window overlooking the yard, and a mattress propped against the wall. He dropped the box labeled BOOKS onto the floor and flopped onto the carpet, staring at the ceiling for a moment.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
He wasn't used to quiet.
Downstairs, he heard his dad calling him again. "Connor! Mind giving me a hand in the garage?"
"On it!"
The garage smelled like oil and cardboard. Daniel was moving an old toolbox when he gestured to a stack of dusty boxes in the corner. "Can you help me shift those? I think the previous owners left some junk."
Connor nodded and tugged one open. Inside were old newspapers, a cracked baseball glove, and…
He froze. A volleyball.
It was scuffed, yellowed around the seams, and the brand logo was half faded, but he'd recognize that weight anywhere.
He picked it up slowly, turning it in his hands. The leather felt rough but warm, familiar in a way that made his chest tighten.
"Old one, huh?" Daniel said behind him. "You can toss it if it's too beat up."
Connor hesitated. "No… I'll keep it. Maybe I can clean it up."
His father smiled, unaware of the storm behind his son's calm tone. "Whatever you want, champ."
When Daniel left the garage to grab another box, Connor stayed behind.
He bounced the ball once.
Once more.
The hollow thump echoed in the empty space, rhythmic and hypnotic.
Then a chill ran through him. The air seemed to thicken, the edges of his vision darkening. He blinked, but the world kept dimming until it was just him and the ball.
"What"
The sound cut out, His knees buckled.
The ball slipped from his hands and rolled across the concrete as everything went black.
"Connor!" The voice came from far away. Then closer. "Connor, hey, look at me! You okay?"
Light stabbed through the darkness. He blinked and saw his mother kneeling beside him, eyes wide. Sophie stood behind her, clutching a stuffed rabbit, face pale.
He pushed himself up slowly, rubbing his temple. "I'm fine, Mom. Seriously. I just—got dizzy, I guess. Long day."
Elena frowned. "You scared me half to death."
"Sorry. Guess I forgot to breathe." He smiled weakly, trying to joke it off.
Daniel appeared at the door, concern etched on his face. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. Promise."
After a tense pause, Elena sighed. "Alright. Maybe call it a night. We'll finish unpacking tomorrow."
They left him to rest, Sophie hesitating in the doorway before whispering, "Don't scare us again, okay?"
Connor smiled faintly. "Deal."
When the house fell quiet, he sat on the floor, back against the wall. The old volleyball lay a few feet away.
He reached for it again,cautiously this time, and as his fingers brushed the leather, a faint hum filled the air.
Then, light.
A soft blue glow shimmered before his eyes,not from his phone, not from any lamp. It floated in the air like a projection only he could see.
[Initializing: SetterOS]
"Core sync detected."
"Primary user confirmed."
"System reboot in progress…"
Connor's heart raced. "What the hell—"
The words faded, leaving the faint sound of digital static.
He blinked, and the light was gone.
Only the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the sound of Sophie's laughter downstairs remained.
He rubbed his eyes, half laughing at himself. "I must be tired."
But when he looked down, the ball was glowing softly, a single thin blue line tracing its seams, pulsing once… then vanishing.
Connor sat there for a long time, the echo of that blue light flickering behind his eyelids.
Outside, the sun dipped below the trees, and the new house settled into silence.
In two days would be his first day at Ridgefield Central High.
And though he didn't know it yet, that strange flicker of light had just rewritten everything.