The Party t every Tuesday and Thursday in my basent, treating dinsional investigation like the most important howork assignnt ever given.
October passed in a blur of theories, calculations, and wild speculation. Dustin brought graph paper and filled it with mathematical equations that would have impressed actual physicists. Mike sketched dinsional models on poster board. Lucas mapped Hawkins with military precision. Will drew.
Always drawing.
"Okay, so based on your extraction tiline—" Dustin adjusted his glasses, peering at the spreadsheet he'd created. "—you got the compass in September 1980, the dkit in June 1981, and the grappling hook in June 1982. That's exactly 274 days between extractions one and two, then 365 days between two and three."
"Different recharge tis?" Mike asked.
"Or different thodology." Dustin tapped his pencil against the paper. "What if the backpack charges at a consistent rate, but Steve's been using it differently? First extraction at 100%, second at 100% again after 274 days, third at 200% after a full year..."
I kept my expression carefully neutral. He's close. Too close.
"The math doesn't work," Lucas pointed out. "274 days isn't 100%. It's—" He grabbed a calculator. "—75% if we assu 365 days is the baseline."
"Unless the charge rate isn't linear." Dustin started scribbling faster. "What if it's affected by environntal factors? Location, ti of day, proximity to dinsional weak points..."
"Dinsional weak points aren't real," Mike said.
"We're literally investigating a dinsional storage device. Everything is real now."
I let them argue for another ten minutes before intervening. "Dustin's right about environntal factors. The compass points more actively toward certain locations. The woods near the lab. The quarry. Places where reality feels... thin."
"Thin." Will's quiet voice cut through the debate. "Like the walls between worlds are stretched."
Everyone turned to look at him. He flushed but continued.
"In D&D, planar boundaries can weaken. Natural thin spots where magic seeps through. If dinsions work the sa way, maybe Steve's power charges faster near those weak points."
"That's—" Dustin grabbed his papers again. "—that's actually brilliant. If the backpack draws energy from dinsional boundaries, proximity would absolutely affect charge rate. Steve, how often do you check the compass?"
"Daily."
"And when does it point most strongly?"
I considered lying, decided truth served better. "Morning and evening. Dawn and dusk. Never during the day."
Dustin's eyes went wide. "Liminal tis. Transitions between states. Oh my god, this is consistent with theoretical dinsional chanics!"
"Theoretical dinsional chanics aren't a thing," Lucas said.
"They are now!"
Dustin
Dustin Henderson had never been more excited about anything in his entire life.
A real mystery. Actual impossible phenona. And Steve Harrington—Steve Harrington!—had chosen them to investigate it.
The calculations were beautiful. If Dustin assud a base charge rate of approximately 1% per day, the extraction tiline made perfect sense. 100 days for the first full charge, another 100 for the second, then Steve had sohow waited 200 days for the third extraction.
"You held it at 100%," Dustin said suddenly, looking up from his math. "The third extraction. You waited an extra 100 days before pulling the grappling hook. Why?"
Steve's expression flickered—just for a mont, but Dustin caught it. "Wanted to see if capacity increased with overcharging."
"Did it?"
"Don't know. Still figuring out the chanics."
He's hiding sothing, Dustin thought. Not maliciously—Steve had been nothing but straightforward with them. But there were pieces he wasn't sharing. Pieces he maybe couldn't share yet.
"Environntal factors would explain charge variance," Dustin continued, filing away the overcharge question for later. "If you spent ti near dinsional weak points, the rate would accelerate. Which ans we need to map Hawkins for potential thin spots."
"Already on it." Lucas spread his hand-drawn map across the table. Red X marks dotted the paper at seemingly random locations. "These are places where Steve's compass has pointed. I'm cross-referencing with local history, geological surveys, anything that might indicate anomalies."
Mike leaned over the map. "The lab's the biggest concentration."
"Governnt facility doing weird experints." Lucas tapped the largest cluster of marks. "Not exactly shocking."
"But why?" Will asked softly. "What are they doing that weakens dinsional boundaries?"
Silence fell. None of them had a good answer.
"Energy experints," Steve said finally. "That's what the lab claims publicly. Energy research. What if they're actually researching dinsional energy? Trying to access power sources from parallel realities?"
Dustin's mind raced. "That would require creating controlled dinsional breaches. Small gates. Which would absolutely create weak points in local reality..."
"We're speculating," Mike interrupted. "We need evidence, not theories."
"Theories lead to evidence." Dustin grabbed fresh paper. "Give two weeks. I'll refine the charge rate calculations, incorporate environntal variables, and project when the next extraction should occur."
"December," Steve said. "If the 1% per day rate holds, the battery should hit 100% again around late December."
"Your birthday," Will observed.
Steve blinked. "Yeah. Actually, yeah. December 23rd."
"Perfect," Dustin said. "We can test my calculations against real-world results. If the extraction happens when I predict, we'll know the model is accurate."
Steve
Mike Wheeler was too smart for his own good.
He'd spent three weeks building a theoretical model of dinsional relationships using D&D cosmology as the foundation, and sohow—impossibly—he'd gotten it mostly right.
"Picture dinsions as layers," Mike explained, displaying his poster board like a professional presentation. "The Material Plane is our reality. But there are parallel planes that exist simultaneously—mirror worlds, alternate versions, adjacent spaces."
His diagram showed concentric circles representing different dinsional layers, with the Material Plane at the center and various parallel dinsions arranged around it. One layer, labeled "Shadow Plane," was marked with dark shading and the note "inverse/decay."
That's the Upside Down, I realized with cold certainty. He drew the Upside Down without knowing what it is.
"The backpack accesses one of these parallel planes," Mike continued. "Specifically, a storage dinsion where items exist in stasis. When Steve extracts sothing, he's pulling it across dinsional boundaries into our reality."
"Why random items?" Lucas asked. "If it's just storage, shouldn't he be able to choose what to extract?"
"Limited access," Dustin suggested. "Like fishing in a pond. You cast the line, you get whatever bites. Steve's power lets him reach into the dinsion, but he can't see what's there or control what cos out."
"Or," Mike said slowly, "the items aren't random. They're being selected by sothing else. The dinsion itself, maybe. Providing what's needed rather than what's wanted."
My skin prickled. The Dinsional Backpack's power description ntioned it drew from "the Void between dinsions"—a space saturated with dinsional energy. If that space had so level of awareness, so ability to assess need and provide accordingly...
That's either comforting or terrifying, I thought. Probably both.
"Let's assu controlled selection," I said carefully. "What would that an for future extractions?"
"Pattern analysis." Dustin pulled out his list of items: compass, dkit, grappling hook. "Compass provides threat detection. dkit provides healing. Grappling hook provides mobility. They're covering fundantal survival needs—awareness, recovery, escape."
"Next extraction should be defensive," Lucas concluded. "So kind of protection or armor."
"Or offensive," Mike countered. "A weapon to actually fight threats instead of just detecting them."
They debated for twenty minutes while I sat back and marveled at how close they were to understanding sothing they shouldn't be able to conceive. These kids would fight monsters in less than a year. Right now, they were reverse-engineering supernatural chanics like it was a math problem.
They were going to be fine. Better than fine.
They were going to be extraordinary.
Will
Will Byers didn't know why he kept drawing the dark place.
It started innocently—Steve asked if soone could sketch the theoretical "other dinsion" for their research docuntation. Will volunteered because he liked drawing, and because the others were better at math and mapping.
But once he started, he couldn't stop.
The pencil moved across paper like sothing else guided his hand. Decaying buildings that looked like Hawkins but wrong. Ash floating instead of snow. A sky that was perpetually twilight, red and bruised. Vines covering everything, pulsing like they were alive.
"That's creepy," Lucas said, looking over his shoulder. "Very horror movie."
"It feels right," Will murmured. He added details to one building—a small structure in the woods, barely standing, covered in drawings and fairy lights. "Like this is what the dinsion actually looks like."
"You can't know that," Mike pointed out. "We're just theorizing."
"I know." Will kept drawing. Sothing about the little structure felt important. Familiar. "But doesn't it feel true? When you look at it?"
Mike studied the sketch. "Yeah. Actually, it kind of does."
Steve had gone very still. Will glanced up and caught an expression on the older boy's face—recognition? Fear? It vanished before Will could be sure.
"That's good work," Steve said quietly. "Really good. Can you make more? Different locations in the dark dinsion?"
"Sure." Will flipped to a fresh page. "Any specific requests?"
"Residential areas. Woods. Maybe a school or downtown. Just... wherever your instincts take you."
Will drew for another hour while the others debated theories. Each sketch erged fully ford in his mind before the pencil touched paper—the Wheelers' house covered in creeping vines, Hawkins High School with its windows dark and hollow, Main Street where nothing moved and decay consud everything.
The dark dinsion felt real in a way his normal drawings never did. Like he was rembering instead of imagining. But that was impossible. He'd never been anywhere like the places he was drawing.
Yet, sothing whispered in the back of his mind. You haven't been there yet.
He shivered and kept drawing.
Steve
December arrived with early snow and Mr. Clarke's unexpected invitation.
"Steve." The science teacher caught after school, genuine enthusiasm radiating from every word. "I've heard you've been ntoring so of my students. Henderson, Wheeler, Sinclair, and Byers?"
"ntoring is a strong word." I adjusted my backpack. "More like letting them investigate weird theories in my basent."
"They're excited about science. About dinsional physics, specifically. And you're encouraging that curiosity." Mr. Clarke smiled. "I'd like to formally invite you to help supervise the AV Club. We et twice a week. Your presence would give the younger students soone to look up to—proof that being interested in learning doesn't exclude you from other social circles."
Perfect. Official access to the kids. Legitimate reason to be around them when November 1983 rolled around.
"I'd be happy to help," I said. "Though I'm not sure how much actual science I can contribute."
"You don't need to teach. Just be present. Answer questions. Let them see that soone like you values their interests."
"Soone like ?"
"Popular. Athletic. The kind of student who typically wouldn't give the AV Club the ti of day." Mr. Clarke's expression turned knowing. "But you're not typical, are you, Steve?"
"Trying not to be."
"It shows. The offer stands—Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Let know."
I accepted, and by the following week I was officially an AV Club volunteer supervisor. Which mostly ant sitting in the corner while the kids built radios and debated electromagnetic theory, occasionally fielding questions about what adults actually cared about.
The Party used club ti to continue their research, spreading maps and calculations across tables while Mr. Clarke nodded approvingly at their "extracurricular dinsional studies."
"Your extraction should happen in thirteen days," Dustin announced during one session, showing his refined calculations. "December 23rd, plus or minus two days for environntal variance. Battery should hit exactly 100% based on the linear charge model."
"And if it doesn't?" I asked.
"Then my model needs revision. But it will." Dustin grinned, absolutely confident. "Math doesn't lie."
No, I thought, but I do. The backpack had hit 100% yesterday. I was deliberately holding extraction until Dustin's predicted date to validate his work and maintain the illusion I was learning alongside them.
The things I did for proper research thodology.
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