The scent of freshly baked cookies, a rare treat from their mom, filled the Miller house, mingling with the faint, almost imperceptible hum of Jake's expanded locus. The school holidays had officially begun, and with them, a new era of freedom – not just from classes, but from the constant parental oversight that made their secret research a logistical nightmare. Their parents, after weeks of planning, had finally departed for a two-week business trip to a distant city, leaving Jake and Katy in charge, armed with a list of emergency contacts, a fully stocked fridge, and strict instructions about screen time.
"Alright, kids, remember what we talked about," their mom had said, her voice a mix of excitement for the trip and lingering maternal worry, as she hugged them goodbye at the door. "No late nights, keep the house tidy, and call us if anything, anything at all, comes up."
"We will, Mom!" Katy had chirped, a wide, innocent smile on her face, already mentally planning their research schedule.
As the car pulled out of the driveway, disappearing down the street, Jake and Katy exchanged a look. It wasn't just relief; it was a profound sense of liberation. The house was theirs. The secret was safe. The research could truly begin.
"Phase Two: Unrestricted Access," Jake announced, a mischievous glint in his eye, echoing a phrase from one of his favorite sci-fi movies. "First order of business: confirm the locus expansion."
They spent the next hour conducting a series of small, controlled experiments throughout the house. In the living room, Jake concentrated, wishing for a single, perfectly ripe apple to appear on the coffee table. With a faint shimmer, it materialized, red and gleaming. Katy then tried to carry it out the front door. The moment her hand crossed the threshold, the apple vanished, only to reappear on the coffee table the instant she stepped back inside. They repeated the experiment in the kitchen, the dining room, even the hallway. Each time, the same result. The house was indeed the new boundary. The Cubix Power had expanded its reach.
"This is huge, Jake!" Katy exclaimed, a mix of awe and trepidation in her voice. "It means your power is growing. But it also means the secret is harder to contain. We have to be super careful."
"I know," Jake said, his brow furrowed. "It's a double-edged sword. But it also gives us more space to experiment. More room to understand how it's expanding."
Their research continued into the afternoon, Jake delving into theoretical physics online, searching for any obscure concepts that might explain a localized, expanding reality field. Katy, meanwhile, was on her laptop, meticulously sifting through local online forums, community groups, and archived newspaper articles, looking for any mention of strange, unexplained phenomena in Northwood's history.
The doorbell rang, pulling them abruptly from their digital dives. Katy jumped, startled. "Who could that be?"
Jake, already heading to the door, glanced at the clock. "Probably Michael. He said he might swing by after his soccer practice."
Sure enough, Michael stood on the porch, a soccer ball tucked under his arm, his hair damp with sweat. "Hey, guys! What's up? Parents gone already?"
"Yeah, just left," Katy said, forcing a casual smile. "Come on in, it's scorching out here."
Michael stepped inside, his eyes scanning the unusually tidy living room. "Wow, your place is spotless. My mom would freak if she saw this. Mine looks like a laundry bomb exploded." He tossed his soccer ball onto the sofa, then sank into an armchair. "So, what are you guys up to? Just chilling?"
Katy and Jake exchanged a quick, subtle glance. "Yeah, just chilling," Jake replied, picking up a comic book, trying to appear nonchalant. "Catching up on some reading. Katy's still obsessed with her 'Local Lore' article."
"Oh, yeah, that," Michael said, waving a dismissive hand. "You find any more crazy old ghost stories, Katy?"
"Not ghosts, exactly," Katy said, seizing the opportunity to subtly steer the conversation. "More like… weird, unexplainable stuff. Like, things appearing and disappearing. Or places where reality just feels… off." She looked pointedly at Jake, a silent signal.
Jake picked up on it, a faint spark of Aethelred's cunning in his eyes. He lowered his comic book slightly. "It's interesting, actually," he mused, trying to sound philosophical, like a kid who'd just read a particularly thought-provoking sci-fi novel. "It makes you wonder about the nature of reality itself. Like, what if someone could only affect reality in a very specific, confined space? Like, their bedroom, or their house? And nowhere else?" He looked at Michael, his expression one of genuine curiosity, masking the true intent of his question. "Ever heard of anything like that, Michael? Like, a power that's totally localized?"
Katy held her breath, subtly nudging Jake's foot under the coffee table, a frantic warning. This was too direct. Too risky.
Michael, however, merely chuckled, oblivious to the underlying tension. He bounced his soccer ball idly. "A power that's totally localized? Dude, that sounds like something out of a comic book. Or a really bad horror movie where the house is alive." He paused, then his eyes widened slightly, a flicker of memory. "Though… now that you mention it, there was this weird rumor about Tiffany's grandpa."
Katy and Jake froze. Tiffany's grandpa?
"Yeah," Michael continued, seemingly unaware of their sudden, intense focus. "Old Man Henderson. Not Mr. Henderson, obviously, different Henderson. He used to live in that super old house on Elm Street, you know, the one with the crooked porch? Anyway, when Tiffany was really little, like, maybe five or six, there was this story that went around town. It was always about Halloween."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially, as if sharing a juicy piece of gossip. "People said that every Halloween, his living room would just… change. Like, completely. One year, it was supposed to look like a haunted pirate ship, with real water effects and cannons that actually made smoke. Another year, it was a spooky forest, with trees that moved and fog that swirled around your feet. And then, the next morning, poof! Back to normal. Just a regular, boring living room."
Michael shrugged, dismissing it with a laugh. "Everyone thought it was just, like, the most epic Halloween decorations ever. Like, he was some kind of special effects wizard. Or maybe he just had a really good prop guy. Tiffany always used to brag about it, how her grandpa had the coolest Halloween house. But it only ever happened once, on Halloween night, and only in that one room. People would line up for blocks to see it. Then he sold the house when Tiffany was a teenager, and the new owners never did anything like that."
He leaned back, picking at a loose thread on the sofa. "So, yeah, a room that totally changes its look, but only in that one room, and only for one night. Pretty localized, huh? But I'm pretty sure it was just, like, a trick or treat thing. He probably just had super elaborate decorations he put up and took down really fast."
Katy and Jake exchanged a profound look. Michael, in his innocent dismissal, had just handed them a goldmine. The "Whispering Architect" was a myth, but "Old Man Henderson" was real. And his powers, or whatever they were, perfectly aligned with Jake's. A confined space. Illusions. A single instance. The "threshold" effect.
"Wow," Jake said, forcing a casual tone, though his mind was racing. "That's… a pretty wild story, Michael. Sounds like he was a real character."
"Totally," Michael agreed, oblivious. "Anyway, you guys want to play some video games? Or are you still doing your 'deep research'?"
"No, no, we're good," Katy said quickly, her voice a little too eager. "Video games sound great! We can totally play some video games!" She shot Jake a look that clearly said: We need to talk. Now.
Michael, satisfied, picked up his controller. As he settled in, Jake and Katy exchanged another glance. The "dead end" wasn't so dead after all. It had just been a misdirection, leading them to a very real, very specific clue, hidden in plain sight, dismissed as a mere Halloween trick. Old Man Henderson. Tiffany's grandpa. The pieces were starting to fit, and the picture was far more complex than they could have imagined.