Ryan Stich, or Stich as his soccer teammates and friends call him, felt a short but sharp wave of excitement as he laced up his cleats for the annual State Game. The opponent that had been chosen by the league was from a school that Ryan knew nothing about because it was in the opposite part of the State. To Ryan, however, this game felt like a gateway into something much bigger than what was offered in the small town.

Next to Ryan was his best friend, Dalton Miller, also dressed in a red jersey with white trim. Both boys were thirteen years old and had grown up together in Dewhurst. They stood in a line of players waiting for the game to start. Their names and numbers were painted on the inside of the doors. The team had changed uniforms; this time, they wore long-sleeved jerseys instead of short sleeves.

The hazy morning sky suddenly shifted to a crystal-clear clarity, revealing the ancient hieroglyphs etched into the door—a secret code of some mysterious message from years ago. The air was electrified with the pungent scent of rain-soaked soil and newly sprouted leaves, mixed with the gritty smell of gravel and concrete.

Linda Stich, Ryan's mother, was watching from the sidelines with a mixture of pride and worry. She had always been supportive of Ryan's passion for the game, but this match felt a little different. It marked a transition for Ryan and Dalton from eager children to young adults with their futures at stake.