Jack, Price's son, Joce, Soap's son, and Lilly, Gaz's daughter, had set off on a thrilling adventure that day. The trio, eager for exploration, had stumbled upon an old, abandoned house at the edge of town. Its weathered walls and broken windows gave it an eerie yet intriguing aura, drawing them in like moths to a flame. With flashlights in hand and hearts racing, they ventured inside, their footsteps echoing through the dust-filled air.

As they carefully made their way through the creaking hallways, the atmosphere was thick with suspense, each of them wondering what they might discover next. The house, though silent, seemed to whisper secrets of a bygone era, and their excitement grew with every room they entered.

Then, just as they turned a corner into a dimly lit study, they froze. In the center of the room sat a boy, about their age—around twelve—sitting perfectly still, absorbed in a book. His face was pale and emotionless, his eyes fixed on the pages, completely unaware of their presence. The oddity of the scene struck them all at once. The boy’s stillness in such a place of decay felt unnatural.