Middleton High School was currently undergoing a "Standardized Testing Event," a phrase that, in Lexi Possible's estimation, was a linguistic camouflage for "Industrial-Grade Cognitive Stagnation." The air in the hallways was thick with the scent of No. 2 pencils and the collective anxiety of a thousand teenagers trying to remember the quadratic formula.
"Subject 1-A, your heart rate has increased by 12 percent since we entered the gymnasium," Lexi murmured, her eyes glowing with a faint, internal HUD as she scanned Kim Possible's vitals. "And your pupillary dilation suggests a state of chronic sympathetic nervous system arousal. It is... inefficient."
Kim, clutching a Scantron sheet as if it were a weapon, groaned. "Lexi, it's the SATs. Everyone is stressed. Even Ron is stressed, and he usually thinks 'SAT' stands for 'Saturday Afternoon Tacos'."
"I am merely concerned for your narrative stability, Kim," Lexi said, her "Cheerfully Terrifying" smile broadening. She adjusted her lab coat—the one that shimmered with microscopic fiber-optics—and tapped a small, silver stud behind her ear. "According to the Galactic Council's guidelines on adolescent development, prolonged exposure to high-pressure academic environments can lead to a 14 percent decrease in hero-mission efficiency. Therefore, I have decided to intervene."
Monique, standing nearby with a cup of triple-shot espresso and a look of practiced suspicion, raised an eyebrow. "Lexi, honey, when you say 'intervene' in that tone, it usually ends with a portal and a legal dispute with a cosmic entity. What are you planning?"
"I have organized a 'Low-Stakes Recovery Retraction,'" Lexi announced. "A vacation, Monique. Specifically, a three-day excursion to the Aether-Sands Resort and Spa located within a stabilized pocket-dimension of the Infinite Realms."
Kim paused, her pencil hovering over an oval. "The Infinite Realms? You mean the Ghost Zone? Lexi, that's not a vacation spot. That's where things with glowing eyes try to eat your soul."
"The 'Ghost Zone' is a colloquialism used by those who lack the diplomatic standing to access the premium sectors, Kim," Lexi said, her voice a calm, clinical lilt. "I have already cleared our itinerary with the Elder's Council of the Infinite Realms. As a 'Sovereign Autonomous Entity,' I am entitled to use the Royal Ecto-Lanes for civilian transit. I have also invited the Genius Coalition members residing in the RV. Barry and Naldo require a break from the temporal feedback of the RV's laser, and Cyd and Shelby expressed a desire to see a dimension where time is merely a 'suggested orientation'."
"A ghost vacation," Ron Stoppable said, suddenly appearing from behind a locker. "Do they have nachos? Because if the afterlife doesn't have cheese sauce, I'm not sure I'm ready for the 'Beyond'."
"The Aether-Sands has a 5-star rating from the Magical Council, Ron," Lexi assured him. "And the ecto-nachos are technically calorie-neutral since they exist in a state of quantum fluctuation."
Thirty minutes later, the backyard of the Possible house was occupied by a very cluttered RV and a group of very confused teenagers. Barry Eisenberg was frantically checking a series of glowing dials, while Naldo Cates was trying to see if he could use a ghost-hunting thermos as a water bottle.
"Lexi! Are you sure about this?" Barry asked, his glasses slipping down his nose. "The last time we tried to sync our jump-clocks with a non-linear dimension, Naldo's eyebrows ended up in the Jurassic Period for twenty minutes."
"I have already installed 'Tether-Sync' modules on your RV, Barry," Lexi said, her lab coat shimmering as she adjusted a massive, chrome archway that she'd erected on the lawn. "The archway is a Possible Protocol: Transit Node. It has been officially registered with Star Command and the Plumbers to prevent any 'Unauthorized Dimensional Breach' alarms. We are perfectly legal."
Cyd Ripley and Shelby Marcus walked up, looking both excited and terrified. "Lexi, is it true that time doesn't exist in the Infinite Realms?" Shelby asked. "Because I really don't want to come back and find out we missed the prom."
"Time in the Realms is a 'Variable Fluid,' Shelby," Lexi explained. "I have locked our return coordinates to precisely six seconds after we leave. To the 'average' humans of Middleton, we will never have been gone. It is the ultimate efficiency in relaxation."
Lexi tapped the side of the archway. A swirling, neon-violet vortex roared to life, smelling of ozone, mint, and a faint hint of ancient history.
"Everyone, please step through in an orderly fashion," Lexi chirped. "And Shego, please keep your plasma emissions at a 'Low-Output' level. The Aether-Sands has a strict policy against localized molecular destabilization."
Shego, who was leaning against the fence with a cup of green-glowing espresso, smirked. "Fine. But if a ghost tries to audit my criminal record, I'm melting the concierge."
"I have already provided the Elder's Council with your 'Pardon of Necessity' documents, Shego," Lexi said. "You are, for the duration of this trip, a 'Diplomatic Security Consultant'."
With a collective deep breath, the group—Kim, Ron, Monique, Shego, Barry, Naldo, Cyd, and Shelby—stepped into the vortex.
The transition was like being pulled through a straw made of rainbows. They materialized on a beach of shimmering, silver sand beneath a sky of swirling green and purple nebulae. In the distance, floating islands of white marble were connected by bridges of solid light.
"Whoa," Naldo whispered, looking at a spectral palm tree that was gently humming a tune. "It's like a screensaver come to life."
"Welcome to the Aether-Sands," a voice boomed.
A ghost in a very sharp, ecto-tuxedo floated toward them. He had three eyes and was carrying a tray of glowing cocktails. "Miss Lexi Possible! A pleasure to have you back. The Elder's Council has already prepared the 'Sovereign Suite' for your party. And the Magical Council has sent over a basket of 'Ever-Burning' fruit as a welcome gift."
"Thank you, Sebastian," Lexi said, taking a cocktail that was currently changing colors from blue to orange. "Please ensure that Subject 2-B—that would be Ron—has unlimited access to the 'Bottomless Queso' fountain. It is vital for his emotional regulation."
"Right away, Miss Possible!"
As the group settled into their floating cabanas, the "low-stakes" vacation seemed to be a success. Kim was lounging in a chair that massaged her at a cellular level, Ron was face-first in a fountain of glowing cheese, and Monique was actually laughing at something Lexi had said about the thermodynamic properties of ghost-water.
Barry and Naldo were busy scanning the silver sand for "Chronal Anomalies," while Cyd and Shelby were enjoying the fact that they didn't feel the "pull" of the timeline for the first time in months.
But peace, in the Infinite Realms, was usually a clerical error.
"HALT!"
A thunderous voice echoed across the silver beach. A portal of cold, blue energy snapped open, and a squad of ghost-guards in grey uniforms and glowing riot gear marched out. At their head was a tall, imposing ghost with a lantern-jaw and a massive, glowing nightstick.
"Walker," Shego groaned, her hands lighting up with green plasma. "Of course. The fun-police have arrived."
Walker, the Warden of the Ghost Zone Prison, stepped forward, his eyes scanning the group with a look of bureaucratic fury. "You are in violation of Code 734-B: Unauthorized Assembly of Multi-Dimensional Entities! This beach is restricted to 'Non-Sentient Spectral Residue' only!"
Kim Possible stood up, her mission-suit (which she'd worn 'just in case') glowing in the spectral light. "Look, Warden, we have a reservation. We're just here for a vacation."
"I don't care if you have a reservation signed by the King of the Dead!" Walker roared. "This is a violation of my laws! All humans, time-jumpers, and... whatever that thing is—" he pointed to Rufus, who was wearing a tiny spectral snorkel "—are under arrest!"
Lexi Possible stepped forward. She didn't look scared. She didn't look angry. She looked... "Cheerfully Terrifying."
"Warden Walker," Lexi said, her voice a calm, clinical purr. "I believe you are operating under an outdated version of the Infinite Realms Penal Code. If you consult the 'Autonomous Entity' addendum filed by the Elder's Council three millennia ago—specifically the 'Possible Clause' I negotiated last Tuesday—you will find that my party is exempt from 'Standard Behavioral Audits'."
Walker narrowed his eyes, pulling a massive, glowing rulebook from his belt. "I don't care about your 'Addendums,' girl! My law is final!"
"Actually," Lexi said, tapping her ear-stud. "Interface: Connect to the Justice League Oversight Committee and the Infinite Realms Elder's Council."
A holographic screen projected from the silver sand. Two faces appeared. One was a very stern-looking Martian from the Justice League, and the other was a being of pure, white fire—one of the Elders.
"Warden Walker," the Elder spoke, his voice sounding like a thousand bells. "Lexi Possible is a Sovereign Autonomous Entity. Her presence in the Aether-Sands is a 'Diplomatic Necessity.' Any attempt to detain her or her guests will be viewed as an act of 'Inter-Dimensional Aggression' against the Galactic Council."
The Martian from the Justice League added, "And the Oversight Committee has already processed the paperwork for this vacation. We have no jurisdiction to intervene, but if you disturb Miss Possible's 'Low-Stakes' environment, we will be forced to conduct a full audit of your prison's human-rights records. The Plumbers are very keen on a 'Transparency Review' of your holding cells."
Walker's nightstick flickered. His lantern-jaw tightened. He looked at the legal documents Lexi was now projecting into the air—documents that were so airtight they were practically glowing with the power of a thousand irremovable clerical errors.
"This is... this is a mockery of the law!" Walker shouted, but he was already backing toward his portal. "I will be filing a formal complaint with the Magical Council!"
"They are already on my payroll as 'Consultants' for my bioengineered tea blends, Warden," Lexi chirped. "But feel free to send the paperwork. My sentient staplers in the Galactic Archives love a good challenge."
With a final, frustrated growl, Walker and his guards vanished into their blue portal.
"Lexi," Kim said, walking over to her twin. "Did you just... out-law the Warden of the Ghost Zone?"
"I merely reminded him of the hierarchy of authority, Kim," Lexi said, her smile returning to its sweet, terrifying baseline. "The Infinite Realms is a complex ecosystem, but it is ultimately a bureaucracy. And I am very, very good at paperwork."
"I like her," Cyd Ripley said to Shelby. "She's like a super-villain, but for the 'good' guys."
"I am an 'Autonomous Stabilizing Entity', Cyd," Lexi corrected gently. "Now, shall we return to the 'Bottomless Queso'? Ron informs me that the cheese is currently vibrating at a frequency that suggests it is 'ready to be conquered'."
As the suns of the Infinite Realms began to set—or whatever it was they did when time was a variable fluid—the group enjoyed a night of peace. Barry and Naldo were busy discussing the physics of "Spectral Sand" with a group of friendly ghost-scientists, and Monique was teaching Shego how to properly relax without "accidentally" melting the furniture.
Lexi sat on the edge of the silver beach, her hand in Monique's, watching the swirling nebulae above.
"You really enjoy this, don't you?" Monique asked softly. "The chaos. The legal battles. The dinosaurs and the ghosts."
Lexi leaned her head on Monique's shoulder. "I enjoy the efficiency of a well-managed disaster, Monique. But mostly, I enjoy the fact that for the next forty-eight hours, I don't have to explain to the Justice League why I replaced the school's bells with 'Optimized Harmonic Pings'."
"You did what?" Kim shouted from her cabana.
"It was a prototype, Kim!" Lexi yelled back. "It's been deactivated! Mostly!"
As the laughter of her friends and family echoed across the spectral beach, Lexi Possible felt a rare sensation: contentment. The universe was messy, the timeline was a disaster, and there were currently seven different cosmic councils trying to audit her lab—but for now, here in the "low-stakes" beauty of the Infinite Realms, everything was exactly 12 percent more organized than it had been this morning.
And that, for a hyper-genius, was the ultimate vacation.