Jonathan paced in front of his whiteboard.

“Alright, everyone, let’s focus up. Today, we're going to discuss the Roman Empire. At its height, it controlled vast territories and influenced a large part of the known world. We’ll explore not only their impressive architecture and engineering but also the military strategies that allowed them to expand so effectively.”

“The Roman legions were the key to their success. They were soldiers trained to be disciplined and cohesive on the battlefield. One of their notable formations was the 'Testudo,' where soldiers would align their shields to form an impenetrable-”

A hushed whisper interrupted his train of thought, and he continued speaking while crossing the room to the quiet commotion. “- an impenetrable barrier. This tactic was critical during sieges and in the face of enemy archers. But while the military might have contributed significantly to Roman expansion, it’s essential to consider the political and social structures that came into play. Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

The teenager froze in his chair. He’d been turned around while holding his cell phone out for another student to look at the screen. The senior class clown slowly turned around in his chair. While his smile was guilty, Jonathan could tell by the boy’s body language that he wasn’t worried or threatened by being caught disrupting class.

In some ways, the kid made Jonathan think of himself.

He uncrossed his arms and looked down at the young man. “Well, let’s have it.” Jonathan held out his hand until the phone was handed over.

Looking at the screen, he saw a still image of a panicked street.

Jonathan’s brow furrowed, and he pressed play. The class was quiet as the chaotic screams played in stereo. The shaky mobile footage panned the scene.

“Ah,” he let out a breath of relief when a giant blue portal came into view. “watching more of these AI-generated videos, Jacob?”

“C’mon, Mr. Reeves. This one’s real, I swear it.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and walked back to his desk, holding the phone. “You swore that the girl last week had real cat ears, too.”

Most of the class snickered, and when Jonathan saw Jacob smile sheepishly, rather than get angry or embarrassed, he also gave a small smile.

“See me after class. You can have your phone back then.”

The rest of his class went by without incident, and when Jacob stayed after to get his phone back, Jonathan had a more serious conversation with the boy.

“Jacob, your grades have been slipping in my class. This,” he gestured to the phone which lay on his desk between the two of them. “is not the best use of your time.”

Jacob hung his head.

Jonathan found that without an audience, students like Jacob could be much more reasonable. This was why he made an effort to give them one-on-one attention.

They exchanged a few more words, and Jonathan agreed not to bring up the incident with Jacob’s wrestling coach as long as the boy showed him the website where he’d found the video.

Without another class for the day, Jonathan sat at his desk in the empty classroom and brought up the website.

“Nexus Hub,” he read aloud.

As the website loaded, a pop-up appeared asking if he wanted to allow the site to track cookies.

“Damned cookies,” he clicked reject all and scrolled through the home page.

Jonathan was shocked at the number of articles posted about these supposed Rift breaks. The most striking headline read, "Blue Portals Appear in Downtown Streets – Witnesses Report Strange Creatures." Clicking into the most recent two, he saw similar cellphone pictures or videos to the one that Jacob had been passing around.

How is this not on the news?

Running his fingers through his beard, he thought for a few seconds.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

He opened a new tab and used his index fingers to click out a few of the headlines. Shockingly, no major new stations appeared in his Google search.

Troubled, Jonathan closed his laptop and slid it into his backpack. He waved and gave a friendly grunt to two of his colleagues as he walked down the empty hall toward the front doors of the high school.

As he reached his black truck, he tapped the bumper sticker before getting in. The October air was cold and damp, a light mist hanging in the air. He rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the steering wheel, the metal bracelet on his wrist catching the afternoon light. The drive home wasn't far. Drizzle tapped on the windshield, blurring the grey scenery. Before he left the parking lot, he used the Bluetooth to make a call.

It rang a few times before Mike picked up.

“Reeves! You old dog, how's the school grind treating you?” Mike's voice was as warm and familiar as ever, bringing a small smile to Jonathan's face.

“Same as ever, Mikey. Eh, the kids can be a handful. But you and I both know I’m not in it for the accolades.” Jonathan replied, keeping his tone light.

“Right, right. Just molding the minds of tomorrow, one wild story at a time,” Mike chuckled. “What’s got you thinking about the past today?”

Jonathan paused for a moment, thinking about the unsettling footage he had seen earlier. “Actually, I just had a strange incident in class. A student was showing around a video. At first, I thought he was showing news footage of a war or riot. There was a bunch of chaos, and then it turned to this blue light. I dismissed it as fake since it looked like one of those old monster movies.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mike said, some of the levity leaking form his tone.

“Yeah, but it sent me down a rabbit hole. The kids are buzzing about these so-called Rift breaks, and I can't find any reliable info. The usual news channels aren’t even touching it. Most everything I could find was all on one sketchy-looking forum site.”

“Trust me, you’re better off not getting sucked into that drama. It’s just a bunch of hype,” Mike replied, but Jonathan could hear a more serious note creeping in.

“C’mon, we both know the world’s gotten weirder lately. Are you telling me you think it’s just kids making stuff up?” Jonathan leaned slightly forward in his seat, gripping the wheel tighter.

“Listen, Jon, I can't get into details, but we've got our hands full. The government's clamping down on info. Just stay safe, okay?”

Jonathan frowned, a knot tightening in his stomach. “Stay safe? Coming from you, that’s pretty rich, Mike. Anything I should be worried about? Are we looking at a situation kinda like Panama?”

Mike let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Oh, no. This is more like Nicaragua, brother.”

“Fuck.”

That classified?

“Yeah…” Mike let the implications hang in the open. “Just... keep your head on a swivel, alright? I’ll try to get some clarity on this end.

“Right,” Jonathan replied, fighting the rising sense of dread. “Thanks for the heads up. I just don’t want to sit around and do nothing while something’s brewing.” His thoughts went to Marcus and David.

“We’ll figure it out, as we always do. Stay sharp, Jon,” Mike said before the line clicked off.

Jonathan forced his grip to loosen on the steering wheel and leaned back in his seat, trying to steady his breathing. He adjusted his hand and cracked the truck window before cursing to himself again.

----------------------------------------

Sitting in his home, he let the news channel play on the television while his laptop was in his lap. The living room was neat but lived-in. A sturdy leather couch faced the television, with a neatly folded blanket draped over one arm. A few books were stacked on the coffee table, next to a single coffee mug. He looked through several more of the forum posts, feeling the uneasiness rise. It didn’t take long for him to stand and grab his cell phone.

He called David, though it went to voicemail.

Jonathan knew Marcus, his eldest son, was still working, but he gave him a ring anyway. It, too, went to voicemail, as expected.

After pacing through the living room, he moved to the garage to quickly check his go-bags. The garage smelled of oil and metal, the cold concrete underfoot reminding him of early mornings in the field. The lighting was dim, but everything was in its place- tools lined up neatly, gear ready to grab at a moment's notice. It was the kind of order that came naturally to him, a habit formed over years of preparation.

He’d made it through his main pack and was moving to the safe when his cell phone rang.

“Marcus?”

“Dad? Hey, I’ve only got a second,” Marcus’s voice came through the phone. Immediately, Jonathan could hear the tension in his son's throat.

“What’s wrong, son?”

“Nothing, we’re heading out for an emergency in Yakima. They haven’t given us information, but the entire Battalion is kitting up.”

“They're sending you guys state-side? Is it one of those portals?”

“How did you-” Marcus cut his sentence off. “Shit, we’re not supposed to talk about details like that. Sorry, Dad. I shouldn’t have even mentioned Yakima. I’m only allowed to call because it’s considered a deployment, and we’re waiting for Bravo Company to go through a roster check.”

Not wanting to push him, Jonathan moved the conversation away from the details and focused on his son. “It’s alright. Look, keep calm. Stay alert and keep your head down. You hear me? Don’t be a hero.”

The last sentence made Marcus laugh, and Jonathan cracked a smile.

“I won’t be a hero. Your name is known around here well enough for the both of us. Dad, I’ve been-” His voice cut out, and yelling could be heard from the other side of the line. “Dad, I’ve got to go. Call David and tell him for me, alright? Love you, pops.”

“I love you too, son.” The line cut before he could finish the sentence.

The ball of tension that had been growing in Jonathan’s gut felt like it had doubled in size and slowly began to rise in his throat.

He rubbed his forehead and tried to call David again.

When he didn’t answer, Jonathan pocketed the phone and punched in the code to his safe. The satisfying weight of the door strained his muscles as he swung it open to reveal a small arsenal.

He touched the picture of a beautiful brown-haired woman hanging on the Velcro-covered inside of the door.