The final bell of Northwood Middle School screamed its release, but today, Jake barely heard it. His mind was already miles away, soaring above the verdant landscapes of his created realm, conversing with Lyra about the ancient lore of the Pixelian Legions, or watching Kael train the newly formed guard battalions. The day at school had been another strange tapestry of mundane reality interwoven with startling flashes of his true power. He'd effortlessly aced a pop quiz in science, predicting the exact questions with uncanny accuracy, and during English, he'd corrected Ms. Albright on a historical detail about Shakespeare's Globe Theatre with a casual authority that left her momentarily speechless. The "god complex" was indeed leaking, and while it was exhilarating to be right, to be smart, it also felt precarious, like walking a tightrope over a very public abyss.
He walked home alone, the afternoon sun warm on his face, but his focus was entirely internal. He barely registered Michael and Jane's chatter about a new game as they parted ways at the street corner, offering only vague nods and distracted smiles. His eagerness to reach his room, to step back into the boundless freedom of his own world, was a palpable ache in his chest. He imagined the vastness of his realm, the intricate cities he still planned to build, the new species he wanted to conjure. He was Aethelred, and his universe awaited.
The aroma of their mom's cooking, a comforting blend of garlic and herbs, greeted him the moment he stepped through the front door. "Dinner in ten, sweetie!" their mom called from the kitchen.
Jake's stomach, usually a reliable indicator, felt a strange mix of emptiness and nervous anticipation. He dropped his backpack by the coat rack, forcing himself to walk calmly into the dining room. He sat down, his gaze fixed on the staircase, mentally counting down the minutes until he could escape.
Dinner was a blur of polite conversation and forced chewing. His dad recounted a tedious story about a client meeting, and his mom asked about his day, her voice tinged with a slight concern. "How was school, honey? Katy's not feeling well, so she stayed home today. She's been resting."
Jake nodded, a fleeting thought about Katy's 'sickness' crossing his mind, quickly dismissed by his overwhelming desire to return to his realm. He offered brief, noncommittal answers about his classes, his mind already drifting to the portal. He barely noticed that Katy, usually the star of the dinner table, recounting every detail of her day with dramatic flair, was absent. His parents, accustomed to his occasional dorky detachment, didn't press him. He just wanted to finish, to be free.
"Excuse me," Jake mumbled, pushing his chair back the moment he deemed it socially acceptable. "I… uh… I have a lot of… uh… reading to do. For history."
His mom looked up, a slight frown. "Already? You barely touched your food, honey. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Jake insisted, trying to sound earnest, even a little desperate. "Just really important. Like, really, really important. And I need to get it done. Tonight." He offered a quick, grateful nod to his parents, ignoring his mom's lingering gaze, and practically sprinted up the stairs.
He reached his bedroom door, his hand trembling slightly with eagerness. He could almost feel the hum of his portal, the beckoning call of his limitless world. He pushed the door open, ready to step into the vibrant energy of his realm.
The room was dark.
Jake froze, his hand still on the doorknob. He had expected to see the faint, shimmering glow of his portal, the familiar outline of his gaming PC, the glitter of diamonds. Instead, the room was shrouded in a deep, unsettling gloom, broken only by the faint, diffused light from the hallway behind him.
And then he saw her.
A shadowy figure sat on his bed, perfectly still. Katy.
Jake's heart leaped into his throat, a sudden, cold dread washing over him. He fumbled for the light switch on the wall, his fingers brushing against it. The overhead light flickered on, bathing the room in a sudden, harsh glow.
Katy blinked in the sudden brightness, but her expression remained serious, unreadable. She was sitting cross-legged on his bed, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on him. And then, her gaze dropped to the floor, to the small, metal bucket by his bookshelf.
"So," Katy said, her voice quiet, almost dangerously calm, cutting through the sudden silence of the room. "When were you planning to tell me you had a bucket of diamonds, Jake?"
Jake's blood ran cold. He stared at the bucket, then at Katy, then back at the bucket. The diamonds, glittering innocently in the sudden light, seemed to mock him. His mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation, a lie, anything. But his brain, usually so quick with a dorky excuse, was utterly blank. His secret, his impossible, magnificent secret, was out.
"Katy, I—" he started, his voice a pathetic squeak.
"And don't even try to tell me Mom and Dad bought them," she continued, her voice gaining a sharp edge. "Or that you 'found' them. Because I was here. All day. When you were at school." Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, bored into his.
Jake swallowed hard. His face flushed a furious red. He was caught. Completely. The realization that she knew, that she had been in his room, that she had seen everything, was overwhelming. The fear of exposure, of ridicule, of being deemed insane, warred with the desperate need to explain.
He looked at the bucket, then at the sleek gaming PC, then at his impossibly large bed. He looked at Katy, her expression a mixture of confusion, suspicion, and something else – a deep, unsettling curiosity. There was no escape.
He sank onto the desk chair, running a hand through his hair. "Okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Okay, fine. You… you saw it." He gestured vaguely around the room. "All of it."
Katy nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. "I saw the diamonds. I saw the computer. I saw your bed. And then… I tried to take the diamonds out of the room." She paused, letting that sink in. "They disappeared. The moment I crossed the threshold. And then they were back when I stepped inside again." Her voice was low, filled with an almost reverent awe. "Jake… what is going on?"
He took a deep breath, the confession a heavy weight on his tongue. He started from the beginning, stumbling over his words at first, then gaining momentum as the sheer relief of finally telling someone, anyone, washed over him. He told her about the bed, his casual wish, and its impossible expansion. He recounted the calculator incident, its mysterious appearance and disappearance, and his mom's oblivious comment. He described the moment he wished for the diamonds, the terrifying exhilaration of their manifestation.
He explained the rules, the invisible boundary of his room. "Anything I create… anything I wish for… it only works in here. The moment it leaves, it vanishes. That's why the calculator disappeared at school. It wasn't Mark and Kevin. It was… me. My room."
Then, he told her about Michael's joke, about the idea of the portal. He told her about stepping through, about the infinite void, about shaping mountains and rivers, about creating Lyra, Kael, Sylas, Anya, and Zephyr – his demi-gods, his pantheon. He described the sensation of time flowing differently in his realm, the eons he had spent there, compressed into mere seconds in the real world.
Katy listened, utterly silent, her eyes wide, her expression shifting from disbelief to awe, from shock to a profound, almost terrifying understanding. She didn't interrupt, didn't scoff, didn't laugh. She just listened, absorbing every impossible word.
When he finished, the room was silent again, save for the faint hum of the gaming PC. Jake looked at her, vulnerable, exposed, waiting for her reaction. For the first time in his life, he was truly seen, not as the dork, but as something else entirely.
Katy finally broke the silence, her voice a hushed whisper. "So… you're a god?"
Jake swallowed. "In here. Yeah. Aethelred, the Unconquered." He offered a small, self-deprecating smile. "But out there… still just Jake."
Katy slowly nodded, her gaze sweeping around the room, taking in the impossible objects, the glittering diamonds. "And you built… a whole world? With other gods?"
"Demi-gods," Jake corrected softly. "My subordinates. My pantheon."
A slow, amazed smile spread across Katy's face, a genuine, unforced expression of wonder. "Wow," she breathed, her eyes shining. "Jake… this is… this is incredible. This is insane. This is… the biggest secret ever." She looked at him, not with judgment, but with a new, profound respect. "And you've been carrying this all by yourself?" Her voice softened, a hint of concern in it.
Jake nodded, feeling a sudden, overwhelming wave of relief. The burden, the crushing weight of his impossible secret, had just been shared. And Katy, his smart, confident, sometimes annoying sister, hadn't laughed. She had believed him.
"So," Katy said, a mischievous glint entering her eyes, a spark of her usual self returning. "You're telling me, if I wished for a million dollars right now, it would appear in this room?"
Jake nodded, a small smile touching his lips. "Probably. But it would vanish the moment you tried to take it out."
Katy leaned back, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Interesting. Very interesting. So, my dork brother is actually a secret deity. Who knew?" She paused, then looked at him, her expression serious again. "Jake, this is huge. This changes everything. But… you can trust me. Your secret is safe with me. We're in this together. And," she added, a sudden, fierce protectiveness in her eyes, "we need to figure out how this works. And how to keep it safe."
Jake felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of belonging he hadn't realized he was missing. He was no longer alone in his impossible world. His sister, the queen of Northwood High, was now his first, and most important, ally. The dork had found his confidante. And the game, he realized, had just gotten a whole lot more complicated, and a whole lot less lonely.