Code: Eclypse

Introduction

The late afternoon sun bathed the Walton family's backyard in a soft, golden light, turning the garden into a living canvas of warmth and color. The vibrant flowers swayed gently in the breeze, their petals splashes of brilliance against the deepening azure sky. The sweet, heady scent of lilacs intermingled with the savory aroma of burgers sizzling on the grill, creating an almost dreamlike serenity—a brief reprieve from the monotony of daily life.

Gab, just six years old and brimming with restless energy, darted across the lawn. His tousled blonde hair caught the light in fleeting glimmers, while his wide, blue eyes sparkled with curiosity as he spotted a butterfly dancing lazily above the flower beds.

"Mom! Dad! Look! A butterfly!" he shouted, gripping the porch railing with small, eager hands, as though trying to freeze the moment in time.

Emily Walton, her loose curls brushing her shoulders, looked up from the salad she was assembling. Her smile—soft, radiant—mirrored the stillness and peace that wrapped around them like a warm embrace.

"It's beautiful, sweetheart," she called, her voice gentle and soothing, unaware that her words would soon linger like an echo from a world already slipping away.

By the grill, Luke Walton chuckled under his breath, flipping the burgers with practiced ease. The lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled in quiet contentment—a man at peace with his world.

These picnics had become more than just routine for the Waltons; they were a ritual, a cherished weekly pause to reconnect. But as Gab chased the butterfly, his laughter rising above the garden, none of them could have predicted that this perfect afternoon was about to splinter in ways they couldn't possibly foresee.

As the minutes slipped by, unnoticed, Emily's smile began to falter. Her eyes lingered on the spot where Gab had last stood, her fingers hesitating over the bowl of greens.

"Luke," she called, her voice tightening ever so slightly. "Could you check on Gab? He's been gone too long... just to wash his hands." The unease was subtle, creeping in like the first tendrils of nightfall.

Luke nodded, wiping his hands on the dish towel. He stepped inside the house, the steady sound of running water greeting him from the bathroom.

But when he turned the corner, a strange stillness gripped the air. The water still flowed from the faucet in an unbroken stream, but Gab was nowhere to be found.

"Gab?" Luke's voice sharpened, a thread of tension running through the calm.

Silence.

Only the muted rush of water, the empty hum of an unanswered call.