Chapter 1 Part 3: Chairman and the Shard
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They retraced their steps through the ravine, the strange pressure of the crystalline frame fading until the forest sounded normal again. By the time they reached Chairman’s body, both of them were grateful for something familiar—even if it was still wrong in its own way.
The spot where the slime had clung was now bare hide, softened and pitted from acid. Resting on that damaged patch sat a blue, BB-sized shard, no more than a millimeter across, pulsing faintly like a trapped spark.
Abigail crouched. “That’s… definitely not biological.”
Ethan knelt beside her, careful not to brush the hide. “And it didn’t melt the deer. So the acid was selective.”
“Drop item,” she murmured, testing the term. “Even though we don’t actually know what dropped it.”
“It came from the slime,” Ethan said. “That’s enough of a working theory.”
She arched a brow. “That’s not how science works.”
He ignored her and used a fallen stick to roll the shard off the hide. It clicked—solid, inert. No hiss, no burn.
“Good sign,” he said.
“Not touching it anyway.” She dug a small ziplock bag from her pack. “Use this.”
He flicked the shard inside. It glowed steadily against the plastic.
Abigail sealed it. “One mystery shard. Loot level… question mark.”
They both turned, almost involuntarily, toward the ravine. Even through the trees, the faint blue of the crystalline frame seemed to cling to their thoughts.
“It reacted when we got close,” Ethan said softly.
“Yeah,” Abigail replied. “Which means we treat it like it’s alive until proven otherwise.”
“And we definitely can’t let some hiker stumble on it first.”
That sealed it. They hauled Chairman toward the four-wheeler, working in practiced silence. Heavy, awkward work—but grounding. By the time they had the buck strapped down and were driving back toward Ethan’s place, the portal felt like a fever dream sitting just behind their shoulder blades.
After the long haul back to the barn, the bleeding-out, and the quiet routine of getting Chairman ready for processing, they ended up in Ethan’s garage with the shard resting on the workbench—impossible and out of place in the familiar space.
Ethan leaned on the counter. “We should start researching now. Carefully. No posting, no keywords that scream ‘please monitor my search history.’”
“Agreed.” Abigail hopped onto the edge of the bench. “We’re eighteen, first-semester SWIC students, and somehow this is what we’re doing before lunch.”
Ethan snorted. “Could be worse.”
She gestured at the shard. “Debatable.”
He tapped the bag lightly—barely a touch. “First step: figure out if this thing is dangerous. I don’t want to find out it’s radioactive after you’ve been carrying it around.”
She nudged him gently. “Four years together, and this still isn’t the weirdest situation we’ve been in.”
“This is absolutely the weirdest,” Ethan said.
“Yeah,” she admitted, smile lingering, “but the universe dropping a portal on your property is kind of a sign.”
“A sign of what?”
“That we should figure out what we’re dealing with before anyone else does. It’s a dungeon.”
“Really? Dungeon?” Ethan sighed, and Abigail smirked at his tone.
“Well, we’ve got a few hours before we need to run the deer in,” Ethan added. “Might as well use them.”
She grinned. “See? That’s the right attitude. Productive panic.”
He shook his head but didn’t argue.
They both glanced at the glowing bead in the plastic bag—a tiny, impossible artifact sitting in an ordinary garage—and the day seemed to tilt around it.
Their world had changed at dawn. Now it was up to them to decide what came next.
