Chapter One: Controlled Chaos

Wicked Octavius Oliver Dale woke up tangled in his sheets, his room as chaotic as ever. A pile of clothes lay in the corner, and his sketches of impossible creatures fluttered in the breeze from the cracked window. The morning sunlight filtered through the mess, highlighting dust particles in the air. He stretched lazily, yawning, and kicked his blankets off. His bed was an island in a sea of chaos, but Wicked thrived on that energy.

He tossed his pillow aside, grabbing his hat from the bedpost, and staggered over to the window. The rooftop outside had always been his favorite spot. From there, he could see the entire village—small, quiet, and perfectly ordinary. Too ordinary, really. That was the problem.

He climbed out onto the roof, balancing easily on the shingles as he stared out at the horizon. For years, it had been the same view. The same sleepy town. But Wicked knew that there was more out there, beyond the village limits—worlds, even. Worlds that connected to theirs in ways he could only guess at.

But today felt different. He could sense it in the air, a subtle shift, something waiting to happen.

"Wicked!" Isabel Iris Dale's voice rang out from below. "Breakfast!"

With a sigh, he hopped back inside, landing on his bedroom floor with a thud. He could smell something faintly burning. If Isabel was already downstairs, that meant he was late to his usual breakfast routine. Perfect.

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The Kitchen Chaos

By the time Wicked stumbled into the kitchen, the familiar scent of scrambled eggs and toast filled the air. The kitchen itself was pristine, as always—thanks to Isabel, of course. Without her, the place would have been a disaster zone by now. But that didn't stop him from diving headfirst into his usual routine.

He yanked open the fridge, pulled out a carton of eggs, and slammed a pan onto the stove. Cracking eggs, dropping toast into the toaster—it was all second nature to him. He moved with reckless efficiency, spilling flour, scattering crumbs, but somehow getting the food on the plates. It was his way of bringing a little chaos to an otherwise too-tidy morning.

Behind him, Isabel silently cleaned up the mess, brushing flour back into its container and wiping down the counters as she watched him with amused eyes.

"Your masterpiece is almost complete," Wicked said dramatically as he plated the food.

Just then, the door to the kitchen opened, and their mother glided in, her wild hair matching Wicked's vibe perfectly. "Good morning, loves," she said with a warm smile, completely ignoring the flour dusting the edges of the kitchen. "Breakfast looks… lovely."

Their father followed shortly after, his sharp eyes scanning the room with suspicion. "Did you make this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the neatly set table.

Before Wicked could answer, Isabel chimed in smoothly. "It's under control."

He nodded slowly, sitting down at the table and taking his usual cup of coffee. For a brief moment, everything felt normal—until there was a knock at the door.

---

The Notice

The knock echoed through the house, breaking the peaceful rhythm of breakfast. Wicked glanced up, his curiosity piqued. Visitors weren't exactly common in their quiet village. Isabel raised an eyebrow, but didn't move from her seat, so Wicked took it upon himself to investigate.

He opened the front door to find a messenger standing there, holding a crisp envelope. The envelope bore the official seal of the Academy—a school Wicked had only heard whispers about, but never thought much of. It was where his older brother and sister had gone two years ago, and he hadn't seen them much since.

"Wicked Octavius Oliver Dale?" the messenger asked, though it wasn't much of a question. Wicked was the only person in the village with such a ridiculous name.

"That's me," Wicked replied, grabbing the envelope before the messenger could say more. He shut the door with a flourish and returned to the kitchen.

He tossed the envelope onto the table between his parents and Isabel, who was now watching him with a knowing look. "What's this?" she asked, though Wicked could tell she already had an idea.

He shrugged. "Guess we'll find out."

Their father picked up the envelope and opened it slowly, his expression unreadable. The letter inside was written on thick parchment, its words flowing elegantly across the page.

"Congratulations," their father read aloud, his voice calm but with a hint of tension. "Wicked Octavius Oliver Dale and Isabel Iris Dale are hereby invited to attend the Academy of Worlds, where they will begin their formal training in the study of intersecting dimensions and powers."

Wicked and Isabel exchanged glances. This was it—the school. The place their older siblings had vanished to. The place they had been waiting for, though they hadn't realized it until now.

Their mother smiled softly, her eyes betraying something more—an emotion Wicked couldn't quite place. Pride? Fear? Maybe both.

"It's time," their father said, folding the letter carefully. "You've both known for a while that your powers are… different. The Academy will teach you more than we ever could. It's not just about this world—it's about all the worlds that connect to ours."

Isabel leaned forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. "So we're going?"

"You're going," their mother confirmed. "It's your birthday, after all. You've come of age. The Academy will help you understand your powers, and your brother and sister are already there."

Wicked grinned, the thrill of adventure sparking inside him. "Well then," he said, standing up from the table with a dramatic flair. "Looks like things are about to get interesting."

Isabel smiled, a more controlled, calculating smile. "About time."

Their father stood, walking over to the window and staring out into the village, his shoulders tense. "Just… be careful. There's a lot you still don't know about your powers. There's a reason we didn't tell you everything."

Wicked felt a chill run down his spine at the weight of his father's words. But he brushed it off, his excitement too overwhelming to be dampened. The Academy. Adventures. Worlds beyond their own. It was everything he had been waiting for.

With breakfast finished, the twins exchanged one last glance before heading to pack their things. The quiet little village had been their home for as long as they could remember, but now, the real journey was about to begin.