Thursday, August 28th, 2042, Home of the Porter family, Maywood Park, Oregon

  Chloe McIntyre frowned, staring down at the now lukewarm coffee in her hands. She would have preferred water, but when Sarah Porter had offered it earlier, she hadn’t wanted to seem ungrateful. The midday sun was relentless, baking the quiet suburban street in Maywood Park. Sweat prickled at the back of her neck, and she could feel the weight of time ticking away.

  But she did not frown because of the heat. Instead, it was at something only she could see.

  For her eyes only, her augmented reality glasses flickered softly as they replayed the same few seconds of footage over and over; A young man as he vaulted over the neighbour’s fence and disappeared into the Porters’ backyard.

  He had been right there, practically under her nose.

  When he had first turned onto their street, she had not paid the newcomer much attention. He had looked so plain. Just a guy in a grey t-shirt and blue jeans, carrying a plastic container. He had turned onto the street casually, walking with no sense of urgency. The AI-assisted software of her glasses had not flagged him—no facial match to anyone significant, no alerts from their case file. If not for how dead quiet the street had been, she would have surely missed him entirely.

  But her journalist instincts had kicked in and she had listened to them. Chloe had let her eyes linger on the boy just long to catch him vaulting into someone’s backyard.

  It’s always the ones who look like nothing.

  As she rewound the clip yet again, she zoomed the footage on the precise moment he crossed the fence—fluid, graceful, more like an athlete or a parkour enthusiast than the average guy next door. He made it look easy. But there! She paused the clip just as he landed. Chloe had felt something tugging at the back of her mind each time she had replayed the clip, but now, frozen mid-frame? Now, she could see it plain as day. It was written in the way he looked back at himself, almost startled, as if he had not expected to pull the stunt off so effortlessly. That was her quarry. This average guy? He was the infamous Kaelyn.

  “He snuck by us,” Chloe muttered, her voice tight.

  Brent, her cameraman, looked up from adjusting settings on his gear. “Excuse me, what was that?”

  “Kaelyn.” She kept her voice low, so only Brent could hear. “She—or he, rather—just snuck inside.”

  Brent cursed softly under his breath, his gaze fixed on her. “You sure?”

  She pinched the frame of her glasses and signalled her hardware to send him the cropped footage. Within seconds, Brent received it, and reviewed it through his own visor, the screen lighting up with technical data.

  The visor gave Brent the look of a budget superhero, Chloe always thought. But she knew that unlike her own glasses, which were sleek and subtle—perfect for a reporter who needed to blend in—Brent’s rig had all the bells and whistles. With a few gestures, he could zoom in, run scans, and overlay metrics to compare the recorded footage against everything they had on file about this case.

  “You think that’s Kaelyn’s player?” Brent asked, one hand against the right side of his face, pressing buttons and nudging control-sticks. “Doesn’t look like much.”

  “My gut says yes.” Chloe crossed her arms, still watching the scene play out on a loop through her own lenses. “But something’s off. When he first showed up? He didn’t trigger any of our alerts. That means his face doesn’t match the family photos of anyone we’ve flagged. Did we miss someone during our investigations?”

  Brent looked up for a second, before focusing on his glasses again. “Pulling up the case data. Wait. Didn’t the Porters have a son listed on file?”

  Chloe swiped a hand in the air, sending him a direct link to his file. “Ryan Porter. Twenty-two. We’ve got his details in the system. He doesn’t officially live here anymore, but we dug him up in our earlier background checks.”

  For a second, Brent let out a pensive hmm, the sound heavy with unspoken thoughts. But then he focused on his work. “Zooming in on your recording and running a height check between the man in the video and Ryan Porter’s listed stats. Says here Ryan’s five-eleven. This guy’s five-nine. Let me run a quick differential analysis… Yeah, about an eighty percent match, at best. This isn’t him; it’s closer to a look-alike.”

  Chloe frowned, her mind spinning. According to Brent and her own AI-assistant, the guy in the footage was not Ryan Porter.

  Something doesn’t add up.

  There was something about the way he moved—how he vaulted those fences, how he hesitated afterward, almost like he surprised himself with his own ability—that struck her as wrong.

  She replayed it again, narrowing her eyes at the moment of hesitation, the flicker of surprise.

  What’s your secret, my mysterious, sneaky stranger?

  “Maybe Kaelyn’s player is a cousin, or someone else in the family we didn’t dig up?” Brent asked, scratching his chin.

  Chloe tapped her fingers against the cooling mug, deep in thought. “Maybe. But that doesn’t explain why he’d sneak in like that.”

  Brent raised an eyebrow. “Could be nothing. Maybe he just didn’t want to deal with all the cameras out front.”

  “Maybe…” Chloe’s voice trailed off as her gaze wandered back to the front door. The owners, Sarah and Eduardo Porter, were standing on the porch, talking quietly to each other, occasionally glancing in her direction. The husband’s gaze followed her, his eyes sharp, as if he dared her to come closer.

  Sarah had been polite, overly so—keeping things pleasant on the surface. But Eduardo? Ever since he came home for lunch, driving his refurbished vintage sports car—a gas-powered antique—he kept looming in the front-yard, watching over them.

  He kept his cards close to his chest, stone-faced. Chloe had tried probing him earlier, asking about their family and the sudden media attention, but the man had not given an inch. He was a fortress, protecting his family from whatever storm had hit them.

  I need to tread carefully around him; pushing too hard might get me nothing but closed doors.

  “Look,” Brent said, shifting the visor back onto his head. “It could be nothing. We’ve got good data. But if your gut’s telling you there’s more here, then maybe we dig deeper. Cross-reference the footage with old photos of Ryan and anyone else tied to the Porters.”

  Chloe gave a curt nod. “Yeah. Run the comparisons. I want a full breakdown by the time we’re done here.”

  Brent grinned. “On it.”

  As she turned back towards the house, her mind was already piecing together the story.

  This isn’t just about the glitch anymore.

  There was something more, and she could feel it. There were too many little tells that told her something was off. And she would be the one to solve that puzzle and expose it all.

  She walked closer to the porch, planning to return her empty coffee mug, but the door opened before she had the chance. Lucia, the Porter’s sharp-witted daughter, stepped outside, her dark eyes immediately assessing the situation.

  She had inherited her mother’s wavy brown hair, but her skin tone and expression were entirely her father’s. She kept her distance, calculating and guarded. Even in a simple t-shirt and jeans, Lucia walked with an air of confidence that belied her mere sixteen years of age. When she stopped, the young girl gave Chloe a long, appraising look, taking in every detail.

  Something’s changed.

  “Ms McIntyre,” she said coolly. “I have a proposal for you.”

  Chloe offered her best practiced smile. “Oh? What is it? I’m all ears.”

  The teen’s eyes flickered toward her parents for just a second. Her mother gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before she turned back to Chloe. “We talked and we’ll agree to the interview, but only if it’s done in VR.”

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  Knew it. It’s really him.

  Chloe raised her eyebrows, pretending to be surprised. “Ah, so Kaelyn’s already here?”

  Both parents seemed taken aback by that, their gazes snapping at Lucia. Chloe noted their surprise—it seemed genuine.

  Ah, they didn’t know that.

  “Yeah. They’re inside.”

  Time to play the good little reporter card, then.

  “Absolutely, Lucia. We can arrange a full-VR interview, no problem. Would it be okay if I could meet face to face first? Confirm I’m talking with the real person, and set the ground rules of the interview together?”

  Lucia crossed her arms and nodded, looking at the rest of the crew behind her with a defensive glare. “Mm-hmm. Yeah, so long as it’s just you, no cameraman, no mic, no crew.”

  Chloe nodded, keeping her smile calm and easy. “Of course. It’ll all be off the record.”

  That was the oldest lie in the book, but after spewing a lie so often, Chloe could say it with such conviction no one ever doubted her.

  Lucia hesitated, but stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in, then.”

  Chloe walked up the stairs and stepped inside, almost expecting Eduardo or Sarah to block her path, but they let her in, filing behind.

  Sweat trickled down her temple, the heat pressing in from all sides, making the air feel thicker. As the door clicked shut behind her, the cool air inside was a brief relief, but not enough to quell the unease coiling in her gut.

  Chloe started cataloguing every detail, her AR glasses quietly taking records and snapshots of it all. The house was exactly what she expected—normal, lived-in, nothing remarkable. Family photos lined the walls, throw pillows littered the couch, a few blankets draped lazily across the armchairs.

  She lingered on the family pictures, zooming in to capture them for later analysis. Ryan as a child. Ryan at graduation. A more recent one of Ryan standing awkwardly next to his sister in a graduation gown.

  Lucia led her into the kitchen. “We’ll get the details sorted over here.”

  Chloe followed, slipping her shoes off as she entered the dining room, scanning the space as they moved. The house felt too… mundane. Too perfect.

  At the dining table sat the young man from earlier. He sat with his back to the patio door; the backlighting blurring his appearance slightly, making it harder for her glasses to get a clear read on him.

  Chloe’s gaze lingered on the sharp angle of his jaw, the same bone structure she had seen in the family photos. But there were differences all over. The boy in front of her had long, straight blonde hair and piercing green eyes, a stark contrast to the wavy brown hair and hazel eyes of Ryan in the photos. This boy was an autumn, with warm, golden undertones. Ryan was a winter.

  It’s like I’m seeing the alternate universe, evil twin version of him.

  But there was something else. Something about the way he carried himself, the way his eyes moved as he assessed her back. His movements were too… controlled, too deliberate. Something was off.

  His eyes glanced up and finally met with Chloe’s. He kept his expression guarded, but beneath it, she saw a flicker of uncertainty. He looked like someone who was both in control and on the verge of losing it all. That tension fascinated her.

  Oh, there are secrets untold here. I look forward to uncovering all of them!

  Lucia took a seat next to him, inviting Chloe to take one diagonally across from them. The parents stayed in the passageway to the dining room, hovering close enough to intervene if things went south. Chloe could feel Eduardo’s protective energy reaching her back.

  But it was Sarah’s reaction which caught Chloe by surprise. It had only been a momentary glance, but that was all she had needed. As she had taken her seat, Chloe had caught Sarah’s startled expression, obviously in surprise upon seeing the boy. She had tried to hide it, of course. But she lacked the proper training to hide it from a journalist of Chloe’s calibre.

  “Ryan, this is Chloe McIntyre, the reporter I mentioned.”

  Chloe smiled. She kept her expression neutral, though her mind raced.

  So this is him, after all.

  “Nice to meet you, Ryan,” Chloe said, extending her hand.

  He shook it softly, his grip gentle. Not an attempt to assert power, but more like a test. He was gauging her, just as she was him. Ryan shifted slightly, and Lucia leaned in as if bracing for what came next.

  “So, VR,” Chloe said, steering the conversation back. “I understand you’d prefer the interview to be done virtually?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. If I can stay anonymous, that’s the deal. Too many eyes on us already.”

  Not to mention people probably expect a girl.

  Chloe smiled. “Completely understandable. We can keep the focus strictly on Kaelyn.”

  The pictures that made her popular did not hint at a boy so reserved or timid. With how viral the videos he released had grown, she had assumed Ryan would gobble up all this attention and jump on the fame bandwagon. She recalled his character dancing with a smaller, silver-haired dragon-girl in the game, and his current behaviour contrasted so harshly with how prudently he acted about it all.

  Still, she was here to discuss plans. So she did. “We’re flexible with the setup. We can use your own rig, or we can provide them. The van has multiple FullDive rigs exactly for cases like that—whatever makes you more comfortable.”

  Ryan glanced at Lucia, who responded a small nod at his unspoken question. “I’ve got a rig here. It’ll do.”

  “Great,” Chloe said, maintaining her professional smile. “What about the environment? Some people prefer a setting that feels personal—something like a digital replica of your home, for example. Others like the familiarity of a professional studio setup, so we could replicate the KOIN 6 News studio.”

  He scowled for a few seconds.

  Okay, neither of those choices appeals to him.

  She offered other venues. “We could also use your VR Hub, a room of your own design, or, since it would fit, we could take a scene straight out of A Realm Reforged Again, especially if you have a favourite location in the game.”

  He perked up at that last idea. Chloe clocked the subtle shift in his posture—the spark of interest in his eyes.

  That’s where he’d be most comfortable.

  “The city of Luminara sounds good,” Ryan said after a beat. “It fits with the whole vibe.”

  Chloe nodded, tapping a note on her tablet. She was recording everything, so she did not need to. But she was, after all, supposed to be off-record right now, so she had appearances to keep. “Perfect. We’ll have our tech team replicate a spot in Luminara, then. It’ll feel natural for Kaelyn. Viewers will love it.”

  There was a brief pause as Ryan’s parents moved quietly in the background, trying to seem unobtrusive but clearly listening to every word. She did not mind. This was not about them. It was about the fascinating boy-shaped gift-wrapped Christmas present sitting right in front of her.

  “And timing?” she asked, moving on. “We’d like to record as soon as possible. You can take as long as you need to get ready, and it will take my team a moment to set up the environment, but the sooner, the better.”

  Ryan hesitated for just a moment, but then Kaelyn’s confidence—yes, Kaelyn, Chloe thought—seemed to surface. “I’ll be ready when you are,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into the faintest smile.

  Chloe could feel the excitement building beneath her calm exterior. This was going to be huge. Kaelyn was a star in the making, built for the limelight. As for Ryan? Well, Ryan was going to be the next biggest news, once she and Brent ran the numbers. The Glitch of the Century was already over. Soon, someone would patch the bug, and the VR event would fade to obscurity.

  But this story? If she was right, this would challenge everything.

  She rose from her seat, extending a hand. “Thank you, Ryan, Lucia. I’m going to get this all started right away.”

  Lucia and Ryan stood up. They shook hands again. Firmer, this time.

  As the family saw her out, Chloe cast one last glance at the family photos—specifically the one where he stood next to his sister. She compared mentally to the person she had just interviewed. Longer blonde hair, totally at odd with the rest of his family’s, his features slightly sharper, more refined.

  “By the way,” she said, pausing at the threshold. “You’ve really changed a lot since that picture.”

  Ryan’s expression faltered for a second. Chloe saw the flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or fear. He covered it quickly, though, and nodded. “Yeah. A lot’s changed.”

  You don’t say.

  Chloe smiled. Outwardly, it was a genuine, warm smile. Inwardly, it was a triumphant one.

  And then she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.

  As she stepped back into the sunlight, the excitement coursing through her veins made her want to sprint to Brent and spill everything, but she forced herself to walk calmly, unhurried. She had more than enough now to piece it together.

  Everything finally added up. Ryan Porter was not simply the face behind Kaelyn. He was becoming her. And whatever was happening to him—it was not over. Therefore, her AI-Assistant had not recognised him. And it explains why Brent’s software had flagged him as a lookalike.

  But now, she needed Brent’s help to turn her theory into a news report.

  Once she reached him, she grabbed his arm and pulled him around the side of the van, out of sight.

  “Brent,” she said, her voice tight with urgency, “I need you to comb through all the footage I just got inside. Run a simulation for me.”

  Brent raised an eyebrow, the motion barely visible under his visor. “What kind of simulation?”

  “Take the photos we’ve got of Ryan—those family pictures—and compare them to the latest images we have of Kaelyn. Now, use his current appearance and run an inverse lerp on it.”

  I’m sure he’ll understand what I mean...

  Lerping was a computer term for linear interpolation. Normally, you take a starting value, an ending value, and a percentage to determine a point in between. A reverse lerp works in the opposite direction: given a value and the two endpoints, it calculates how far along the transition the value is.

  Brent blinked, processing. “But that’s crazy talk. What you’re inferring is impossible, even!”

  He rubbed one hand against his chin, then turned to face her, gesturing his disbelief.

  “You think he’s… transforming into her? And you want me to figure out how far along he is?”

  Chloe nodded, her heart racing. “Yes. That’s exactly what I think, and what I am asking. I need to know how much time he’s got left.”

  Brent’s face paled. “Chloe, if that’s what’s really happening…”

  A wide grin spread across her face, despite herself. “We’ll beat everyone to the punch. This’ll be the biggest story since the glitch.”

  Brent swallowed, glancing back at the house. “I mean, sure, but… what about the kid? Can you even imagine what he’s going through?”

  Chloe hesitated. She understood his concern, but Brent failed to see the bigger picture here. He was thinking small. He focused on Ryan.

  I’m thinking about millions of players—about the impact this will have on everyone.

  “Yeah, I get it, Brent. But think about it—what if Ryan isn’t the only one? What if millions of players out there are affected, or could be? This isn’t just a story about one kid. It’s about everyone who might log into the game and find themselves… changing.”

  A wave of understanding washed over Brent, leaving his face ashen, his eyes wide and fixated, a tremor running through him. “Holy…”

  A wave of excitement washed over Chloe as she met his steady gaze, the rapid beat of her pulse echoing in her ears, a bright warmth spreading through her. “We have to get the news out before anyone else does.”

  Brent nodded slowly, still reeling from the implication. “Okay. I get it. We’ve got no time to waste.”

  With a step back, Chloe felt a surge of determination, a fire in her belly pushing her forward.

  This is it. The story that will rewrite everything.

  Brent remained less convinced and urged caution. “This is going to cause mass hysteria if they even let us go forward with it.”