Jason dropped the last box by the wall and let himself fall onto the bed.
The ceiling stared back at him—blank, unfamiliar.
Tomorrow was going to be his first day at a new high school.
New town. New people.
Another reset he never asked for.
He exhaled slowly and turned onto his side, pulling the blanket halfway up. The room still smelled like fresh paint and unopened cardboard. Even after days of moving in, nothing felt like his.
Not the bed. Not the walls.
Not this place.
Something about it all felt… off.
Or maybe it wasn't the room.
Jason's eyes drifted toward the window.
A faint glow leaked through the curtains.
He frowned.
The Gate.
Even here, it followed.
It had appeared months ago—sudden and impossible. Not descending from the sky. Not rising from the ground.
Just… there.
A structure too vast to measure, too strange to describe. Hanging in the sky like it had always belonged there.
At first, the world had panicked.
News channels ran endless coverage. Scientists argued over theories. Religious groups called it a sign of judgment—or salvation.
No one called it normal.
But panic didn't last.
It never did.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months.
Life resumed.
Schools reopened. Jobs continued. People adapted.
They always did.
Now, the Gate was just… part of the sky.
Something you noticed once in a while, pointed at maybe, then ignored.
Like a cloud that never moved.
Like something that didn't matter.
Jason didn't understand how.
His friends—well, former friends—had laughed about it.
Said it looked cool.
Said maybe one day it would open and drop treasure.
Jason never laughed.
Because every time he looked at it, he felt the same thing.
A quiet, crawling discomfort.
Like something was wrong.
Like it didn't belong.
Like it was watching.
He shifted slightly, eyes still fixed on the thin line of light at the edge of the curtain.
"…Weird," he muttered.
Then—
The light flickered.
Jason froze.
It was subtle. So quick he almost thought he imagined it.
But his eyes narrowed.
The glow steadied again, calm and distant like before.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing wrong.
He stared at it for a few seconds longer.
Then shook his head and turned away.
"Just sleep," he whispered.
Tomorrow mattered more.
A new school meant another chance—however small—to start over.
Maybe things would be different this time.
Maybe people would actually see him.
Maybe—
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Morning came too quickly.
"Jason, is that you?"
His mother's voice drifted in from the kitchen.
"Wash up. Breakfast is almost ready."
Same words. Same tone.
Some things, at least, hadn't changed.
Jason pushed himself up and stepped out of the room. The hallway still felt too clean, too empty. Half-open boxes sat stacked along the walls—clothes, books, pieces of a life that hadn't fully settled yet.
A new place.
Another beginning.
By the time he reached the dining room, the table was already set.
His father sat at the far end, posture straight as always, scrolling through something on his phone. His younger sister slouched in her chair, completely absorbed in hers.
"Finally," she muttered. "Took you long enough."
"I wasn't gone that long."
"You always say that."
Jason ignored her and pulled out a chair.
His mother placed a plate in front of him with a small smile. "Eat before it gets cold."
"Thanks."
For a moment, the room settled into the quiet rhythm of breakfast—cutlery, soft movements, nothing out of place.
Normal.
"Your first day at your new high school," his mother said gently. "Are you ready?"
Jason shrugged. "It's still just school."
"In a new place," she reminded him.
His sister snorted. "Try not to get ignored on day one."
Jason shot her a look. "Can you not?"
"What? I'm helping."
"By being annoying?"
"By being honest."
Their mother sighed. "Both of you, enough."
Silence returned—brief, but heavier this time.
Then his father spoke.
"New environments aren't easy," he said calmly. "But they matter."
Jason glanced up slightly. "I'll be fine."
"You always say that."
The same words.
But from him, they didn't sound like teasing.
They sounded like doubt.
Jason looked back down at his food and didn't reply.
Outside, beyond the quiet streets and unfamiliar houses, the sky remained unchanged.
Clear.
Still.
Endless.
And far above—
The Gate hung silently, not like an object but a mysterious personality.
Watching.
And for a brief moment—
It flickered again, waiting for the right moment.....