Chapter 1: The Gifted Child
Rain tapped gently against the windowpane, the kind of soft rhythm that made the world feel quieter than it was. Inside a small high school classroom, desks sat in rigid rows beneath flickering fluorescent lights. The air smelled of old textbooks, pencil shavings, and the faint musk of rainy shoes.
Nick sat in the far back corner, his hood drawn low, fingers tapping restlessly against the worn wood of his desk. To everyone else, he was just another quiet kid. The kind you forget is even in the room. But he liked it that way.
In truth, Nick was watching everything.
Every tick of the clock.
Every whisper between classmates.
Every glance from the girl two rows up—Amber.
She was pretending to read her notes, but her eyes kept flicking back toward him.
He noticed. Of course he did. He noticed everything.
Amber wasn't like the others. She didn't speak loud. She didn't carry herself with arrogance or fake confidence like most of the students here. No… Amber was careful. And curious.
And Nick could sense that curiosity growing.
He looked down at his lap, where his hand slid into the inner pocket of his hoodie. His fingers brushed against cold metal.
A key.
But not just any key.
This one shimmered faintly in his touch, as if recognizing his heartbeat. Its teeth were jagged in ways that defied physics, and the metal pulsed with heat that came and went like breathing. It had appeared this morning on his desk without explanation. Not in his dreams. Not from one of the hidden boxes under his bed. It had just… appeared.
That never happened before.
Even the oldest keys left behind by his mother had never done that.
Nick stared at it beneath the desk. Just holding it made his head swim with whispers—faint and distant, like a conversation through water.
He closed his eyes for a second. And the image was there.
A door.
Not in this school. Not in this world.
It hovered in his mind like a memory he hadn't lived yet.
And behind that door… was something ancient.
Something waiting.
Nick opened his eyes, breath catching in his throat.
This isn't normal, he thought. Even for me.
"Mr. Reyes?"
Nick snapped his head up. His teacher, Mr. Carrington, stood at the front of the class, one eyebrow raised. The other students turned to look.
"You with us?"
A few muffled chuckles echoed around him. Amber didn't laugh. She just watched.
Nick cleared his throat. "Yeah. Sorry."
"Good. Because I'd hate to see your senior year start with a detention."
He nodded, murmuring, "Won't happen again," and slid the key deeper into his pocket.
The rest of the class passed in a haze. When the bell rang, Nick was already moving, slipping out into the hallway before anyone could say a word.
He walked past the rows of lockers, the smell of cheap cafeteria pizza lingering in the air, and stepped outside under the overhang as the rain continued its gentle pour.
That's when he heard the voice.
"Nick?"
He turned. Amber stood there, her books hugged tight to her chest, a nervous smile on her face.
"I… um. I've seen you around," she said.
"Yeah. We're in the same English class."
She laughed lightly. "Right. That was dumb to say. I just meant…" She shifted her weight. "You seem… different."
Nick didn't answer. He didn't know how to.
But Amber didn't seem fazed.
"I don't think that's a bad thing," she added quickly.
A silence passed between them, heavy with unspoken truths.
Then Nick did something he hadn't done in years.
He smiled.
Just a little.
Amber smiled back, eyes lighting up. "Well… see you around, Nick."
And just like that, she walked away.
Nick stood in the rain, her words echoing in his head.
Different.
If she only knew.
He reached into his pocket and felt the key still pulsing.
And in the distance, the image of the door returned—clearer now.
Closer.
Something was coming.
Something had been set in motion.
And for the first time in a long time, Nick felt it in his bones:
The keys were awakening again.
And he wouldn't be alone this time.
The next morning felt… different.
Nick couldn't explain it, but something inside him stirred the moment he woke up. It was like a thread had been tied to his chest and was gently tugging—drawing him toward something unseen.
School felt distant. Meaningless.
So, when the bell rang for third period, Nick didn't go.
Instead, he kept walking. Past classrooms. Past students and teachers. Past the normal rhythm of life.
Until he stood before an old, forgotten part of the school—
the janitor's closet.
Not the main one.
The other one.
The one with the rusted door, the peeling paint, and a light overhead that never stopped flickering.
No one ever used it.
No one ever noticed it.
Except him.
Nick glanced both ways down the hall. Empty.
He reached into his hoodie pocket, fingers curling around cold metal.
The key was there.
But it was different now.
It shimmered faintly, glowing with soft green veins of light. The edges had changed too, shifting shape like it was alive—adapting.
He held it in front of him, and as he stared at the door, he said quietly, but firmly:
"Show me the path."
The air thickened. A soft vibration pulsed through the hallway. The key warmed in his hand.
Then the door… changed.
It shimmered like heat off pavement. The rusted metal melted away, replaced by something ancient—something not from this world.
The new door stood tall and solid, framed by dark stone etched with glowing symbols, like whispers carved into reality.
Nick took a breath and stepped forward.
He pressed the key into the center of the door.
Click.
The door swung open without a sound.
Inside was not a closet.
It was an impossible place—a vast, endless space filled with floating walkways and towers of doors.
Some shimmered like crystal. Others pulsed like they were breathing. Some looked centuries old.
They hovered in a grand, dark chamber lit by a strange green light that came from nowhere and everywhere.
This was the Realm of Doors.
The place between places.
The Vestibule.
Nick stepped inside, heart pounding in his chest like a drum.
He didn't see her.
Amber.
She had followed him.
She didn't know why—only that something told her to.
Nick had always seemed different, and now that difference had taken shape.
She had caught up just in time to see him unlock the door… and step through.
And then—
Gone.
The glow vanished.
The door returned to normal.
Just an old janitor's closet again.
Silent. Still.
Amber froze in place, blinking in shock.
She rushed up to it and threw it open.
Nothing.
Mops. Buckets. Bleach.
No Nick.
"I saw it," she whispered to herself, still staring into the closet.
"I know what I saw."
She stood there, stunned. Shaken. But not scared.
No… not scared.
Excited.
Something strange had happened.
Something impossible.
And Nick was at the center of it.
Meanwhile, in the Vestibule, Nick walked slowly across a glowing bridge of light, surrounded by thousands of doors, each one humming with energy.
He had no idea that someone had seen.
That someone knew.
That his secret… might not be a secret much longer.
And far behind, back in the hallway of an ordinary high school, Amber took a step back from the closet and whispered,
"I'm going to find out who you really are, Nick."