Summer came and went, forcing the brothers to face something they didn’t have to in the spring, virtual learning. As Psyner’s, a superhuman race, they couldn’t catch the Coronavirus. They had no fear or worry about getting sick, and no worry, or so they thought, of their lives changing. They thought wrong, very wrong.

Now it was fall, and school was starting again. They could safely go back to school, but their father and the rest of the Psyner population agreed that students should start school virtually, as humans do, so as not to draw attention to their families. After all, it would be highly suspicious if the children of Psyner families went to a boarding school with hundreds of people, and each parent continued working. They wouldn’t be able to explain how they would remain safe, considering the world didn’t know they existed. So once again, they needed to pretend they were human and act as such.

The first week of school was hard. Extremely hard. The teachers did their best to prepare lessons the boys could watch as well as easy to follow “homework” instructions. But it was harder. They didn’t have someone harping on them when they got distracted. They didn’t have someone repeating instructions several times. And they certainly didn’t have someone they could shout questions to any time frustration took over. They had to log back in, chat with their teacher, and wait for a response. It didn’t necessarily take more time, but it was different. It wasn’t the same as sitting in a classroom with their peers and hear every question asked. They had to read to find out if anyone had already asked the question and then decide whether or not to ask again.

At the start of week two, Brax sat staring at his computer, dreading the moment his classmates popped up on the screen. His father entered Brax’s room to say his typical goodbye. Brax begged his father not to go, but he insisted he had to work.

“You can tell people you are staying home a day to help us. That’s what humans do. People would understand,” Brax said.

“That is already what I do. Humans think I stay here with you every day,” his father said.

“Then actually do it,” Brax shouted.

“I can’t, son,” he replied.

“Why not?!” Brax threw his hands in the air.

“Because I have an entire population of people to look out for. I have to help facilitate virtual learning and each Psyner staying home from work. We are in an unprecedented pandemic, and I need to lead our people,” his father replied hastily.

“Oh,” Brax said.

“What? Did you just think that I leave for work, sit around and bide my time for 8 hours before coming home?”

“I thought that’s what all adults do,”

“No, son. Some adults go to work every day and work their butts off to make a difference,”

“Make a difference to who?”

“Their work, their life, their family. It’s different for everyone,”

“That seems like a lot of pressure,” Brax said.

“Sometimes,”

“Seems like a lot of work,”

“It is, son,” his father woke up the computer that sat directly in front of Brax on his desk. “That’s what I want you to do Today. Get on your class, learn what you can, try as hard as you can, and be proud that you are working towards a larger goal.”

“What goal?” Brax asked.

“Knowledge. And the ability to think for yourself,” his father grabbed the top of Brax’s head and shook.

As his father reached the door, his two brothers appeared out of nowhere in his room, apparently traveling by grid even though they came from one floor away. Their father recognized their presence and turned back.

“You two need to be at your computers and join class,” he said.

“We will,” Bo and Bridger said in unison.

“We just wanted to make sure Brax was all set up ok,” Bo said.

“He sometimes struggles, you know,” Bridger blocked his mouth with his hand, but Brax still heard what he said.

“I do not,” he replied. Bridger rolled his eyes.

“Get back downstairs. No more traveling by grid until I get home, understood?” his father said.

The boys ran past him, down the stairs, and into their separate rooms without protest. Bo sat in the cold leather chair behind their father’s presidential size desk in his office that was lined with bookshelves. He had access to information on any subject they learned on any given day. Bridger went to his desk at the kitchen table. Their Uncle Nick set up a study space every morning for him. Each of the brother’s spaces was designed to have minimal distractions, but Brax found it hard not to be distracted when learning at home.

Once his brothers were downstairs, his father said his goodbye and exited the room. Brax took one look at the window and longed to play on the trampoline. Instead, he shook his head and reminded himself to focus, and then he logged onto the class. He was a little early, but being on time helped his anxiety. He sighed when he saw the only other person logged in to the class was Jett, the one kid that hated him for a number of unknown reasons.

“Uh, not you,” they said.

“Look, Jett. Let’s just sit here and not talk,” Brax said. He really couldn’t handle the extra stress of an archnemesis right now.

“Fine by me, you are never very good at conversation anyways,” they said.

Brax plopped his chin in his hand and stared blankly at the screen. Jett ran their hand through their jet black hair, pushing their bangs to the top of their head. They then sat, holding their head up with their hands, elbows on the desk, and a smug look on their face. It was as if the two of them were in a staring contest, neither of them blinking. Brax studied Jett’s face. A lot of people had a mean resting face; Jett had a smug resting face. It was like they were always up to something. And not the good something, like the brothers always being up to an adventure. No. Jett was always up to something sneaky and probably harmful.

A minute later, students starting popping up on the screen one by one until finally, their teacher, Mr. Thomson, appeared. Mr. Thomson looked weathered, a stark contrast to his typically cheerful look. Their indestructible teacher showed signs of wear and tear. His typically tight bowtie was loosened around the neck, his hair was frizzy and sticking in multiple directions, and his wrinkles dented farther into his skin than usual. Brax wondered if the sudden switch to online learning was wearing on him. 

“Hi class,” he said in a monotone.

“Hi,” they all said.

“Today, I am just going to get right into it. It will be slightly self-taught Today. I want you all to use your resources,” Mr. Thomson said.

“What resources?” Jett asked.

“Please wait until I finish giving directions to ask questions,” Mr. Thomson said.

“You always say that,” Jett mumbled.

“I want you to use the numerous resources at your disposal. This could be the books I sent your way, the Annaminis sight, and your family,” he continued.

“What if our family isn’t helpful?” Nereyda, the brother’s new friend from the last year of school, raised her hand and asked before being called upon.

“Then use your other resources, Ms. Mikos,” he replied.

“Resources are great, but what are we looking for?” Bo asked.

“I am getting there. Again, all, please refrain from questions until I finish giving directions,” Mr. Thomson said through slightly gritted teeth.

“I will be right back. I have to go to the bathroom,” Bridger said.

“Wait until I am done giving directions,” Mr. Thomson said.

It was too late; however, Bridger was already gone from the screen. He didn’t remember to shut off his camera or mute his microphone, and everyone heard him exit to get to the bathroom. 

“We’ll fill him in,” Brax said, trying to be helpful.

Mr. Thomson muted Bridger’s microphone, so they didn’t hear him pee and continued. “Right, so we are going to be learning about the Great Yeti-Psyner War. I want you all to research and find everything you can about that war. Then, when you come back, I will pick you each at random to share one fact that you learned. No one can repeat a fact. So what that means is that you all must have enough facts to ensure you will have a unique one to share.”

“So, like, how many should we have?” Jett asked.

“Well, there are 20 children in this class, so that many,” Mr. Thompson replied.

“That’s a lot,” Jett said.

“It is. You have the next 3 hours to work on it, then lunch for 30 minutes, and then we will reconvene to share our facts after lunch,” Mr. Thomson said.

“Can we have an exact time we need to be back?” Bo asked.

While this seemed to be a logical question, Brax knew better. He knew that Bo wanted to know how much time they had to go on an adventure before needing to be back. Brax felt his nerves pop in his body. He stared at his books on his desk, knowing they wouldn’t be read Today.

“12:30 is the time I expect you all to be back on the video,” he said. “I will remain on the system to answer any questions you have. Just chat with me. Please check the chat to see if your question has already been asked.”

Slowly, and one by one, each student’s face disappeared as they turned their video off and muted themselves to begin their project for the day. Startled, Brax jumped. His brothers appeared in his room, once again traveling by grid.

“You both need to stop popping in like that,” he swiveled in his chair.

Bo walked over to his bed and sat on the edge. Bridger took a couple of steps back, leaned against the wall, and folded his arms. 

“What do you guys want to do?” Bridger asked.

“Research about the Yeti-Psyner War,” Brax replied.

“We already know about that. We learned last year,” Bridger said.

“How many facts do you know? Not 20,” he answered his own question.

“We know at least 3,” Bo said.

“Well, then we need to learn 17 more before we consider anything else,” Brax stood up and walked towards the door of his bedroom.

“How do we do that?” Bridger said to him as he walked by.

“We go to dad’s office and check the books,” Brax said. He started walking towards the door, suspecting his brothers would disappear and be in the office by the time he got there. Only they weren’t’. He walked down the stairs and into an empty office. He stared at the books lining the walls, not knowing where to start. As he grabbed the first book from the shelf, his curiosity got the best of him. Not his curiosity for the Yeti-Psyner War. His brothers had still not appeared. They didn’t come by grid or by stairs. Brax slammed the book closed, tucked it under his arm, and stormed back upstairs. He found his brothers smirking at one another.

 “What are you two talking about?” he asked.

“We were thinking,” Bo began.

Brax folded his arms in front of him.

“That the best place to get this information is up north,” Bridger said.

“Up north?” Brax asked.

To anyone in Michigan, up north was anything further north geographically than one’s hometown and usually involved a cottage on a lake. It didn’t matter how far or what lake; it only mattered that you traveled farther north than your home. Brax held his breath for the answer, hoping this was the up north his brother meant.

“To the arctic,” Bridger smirked.

“No,” Brax waved his arms to emphasize his response. “There’s no one up there.” 

“There’s yeti’s up there,” Bo said.

“And who better to learn the war from than the ones that actually participated in it,” Bridger added.

“Umm…they didn’t participate in it,” Bo said.

“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure Yeti’s don’t age,” Bridger said.

“They do,” Bo said.

“Hmm…I don’t think so,” Bridger said.

As his brothers argued, Brax pondered. They did have a point. Wasn’t it always best to go straight to the source? However, he had heard that sometimes it’s better to do research through books than through specific groups. But then he also learned that sometimes books are biased. He felt extremely stuck in his current position. Brax watched as his brothers starting pushing each other. First, a small tap from Bo to Bridger’s shoulder, then Bridger did it in return. Next, a two-handed shove from Bo forced Bridger to take a small step back. Bridger’s eyebrows furrowed, and Brax knew what came next. Brax jumped in between the two just as Bridger took a step forward. Brax stopped him just in time.

“Fine. Let’s go,” Brax said. He immediately disappeared and felt the familiar zaps from the grid. For the most part, he didn’t mind the tiny shocks prickling his body. It was the ones to the cheeks that bothered him the most. Even with the pricks, Brax didn’t stop until he hit the cold fresh snow of the arctic.

Bo and Bridger landed soon after him. Landing in the arctic was like taking the polar plunge into an icy lake Michigan. Brax wasn’t prepared to so quickly go from the warm Autumn air into the cold. The arctic chill seeped right through his long sleeves and froze his skin. Brax had goosebumps up and down his arms. The three brothers looked at each other knowingly, then traveled back to their room. They grabbed their school uniforms their uncle had purchased for them just in case school opens back up. Then they covered that sweatsuit with a down parka and traveled back to the arctic, landing in the same exact spot they stood just minutes before.

“Do you think it’s bad to travel too frequently by grid?” Bridger asked.

“Nah,” Bo said. “It uses our natural chemistry.”

“I don’t know, I feel funny,” Bridger said.

“The tingling buzz?” Brax looked down at his fingers.

“Yeah,” Bridger responded.

“I don’t feel anything,” Bo started walking towards the elementary school building.

Bridger and Brax looked towards each other and shrugged before following closely behind Bo. The ground was covered in a foot of soft snow. The land that had typically been traveled for weeks by small feet at this point was undisturbed. It made the trip to the elementary school difficult. Packed snow was always easier to glide across. Their tiny legs became fatigued very quickly from the extra exertion they were forced to use to step over the new snow. They paused for a few minutes, each leaning on their own tree but soon began their trek again. When they got to the edge of the school building grounds, they took one final rest to catch their breath. Brax took several deep breaths, then thought for a moment, and it hit him.

“We should have just taken the grid to right here,” Brax said. He turned back and looked at the woods behind him, on the long trip they took unnecessarily.

When he turned back, he saw his brothers looking at him. They looked annoyed, as if they were upset Brax didn’t say it earlier. Brax would have said it earlier had he thought of it earlier, but he didn’t. 

The three of them trudged several more yards around the building. They stopped in their tracks when they reached school. Their jaws dropped. The schoolyard looked like a Florida beach on spring break, only in winter.

Yeti’s sat sprawled out on blankets on patted down snow. They wore ski goggles and replaced those fruity beach drinks with umbrellas with sundaes of yeti ice cream. Instead of frisbees, they were tossing around rings of wood cut from logs. It was clear to Brax that the workhorse yeti’s from last year actually knew how to relax and have fun. 

The brothers strolled closer to the group of them without a plan. When they got close, the Yeti’s didn’t even pay them any attention. It was as if they were invisible. They stood directly in front of a yeti on a blanket, and she never even looked up from her book.

“You think they can’t see us?” Brax asked.

“I don’t know,” Bo looked over the field, looking for any yeti that would make eye contact.

“They must not. They know who we are. If they saw us, they’d look up,” Bridger said.

“We see you. We just don’t care,” the Yeti in front of them licked her finger and turned her page without ever looking up from her book.

The brothers looked at each other dumbfounded. It confirmed Brax’s suspicions. The Yeti really did not enjoy taking care of the kids on campus. They only pretended to because it was their job.

“Let’s find a yeti we know; they will be nicer,” Brax said hopefully.

“They won’t,” the rude Yeti said. The brothers walked away.

Towards the very back end of the field, Brax spotted a yeti he knew well, Ned. His navy mohawk made him stick out like a sore thumb. Brax hesitated but decided it was their best chance. He began walking across the field and motioned for his brothers to follow his steps over the snow. The area the Yeti’s played in had been packed down, likely from repeated play. Pieces of the snow were slippery, and Brax nearly fell over right onto a yeti writing in a journal.

Ned saw the brothers before they made it to him. He smirked.

“What are you doing here,” he asked through his smile.

“We were hoping you could help us with an assignment,” Brax spoke on behalf of the brothers.

“You couldn’t make it one year without demanding something from us?” Ned asked.

“He didn’t demand,” Bo said.

“But we could. If we wanted to,” Bridger added.

“Of course. I haven’t forgotten you are The Man’s kid. What do you want?” Ned said.

Ned motioned for his fellow Yeti’s to stop what they were doing. The Yeti’s dropped the cords they were dragging out from the school. The cords were bundled together with zip ties and led straight into the school building like a black coiled snake. 

“What are you doing?” Brax asked.

“I asked you first,” Ned said.

“We have the assignment to gather as much information on the Yeti-Psyner War as we can. No student can repeat another student’s fact, so we need rare ones,” Bo said.

“Ah, so you came to the source that no other student could reach,” Ned observed.

“We did what we needed,” Bridger said.

“And what do I get out of this?” Ned asked.

“What do you need?” Brax asked.

“Well. It just so happens that we are having a little difficulty producing enough energy from the school to get our movie going,” Ned pointed towards the side of the school building. There was a massive white sheet that looked like a projector screen covering the entire side. It looked as though the Yeti’s tied together a bunch of sheets from the student’s beds to make it.

“What do you want us to do, build a windmill?” Bridger asked.

Ned looked at him, perplexed.

“Put solar panels on the roof?” Bo asked.

“What? No,” Ned shook his head vigorously. “Power it with your powers.”

Brax looked to Bo, then to Bridger, and then back to Bo. After his brothers were no help, he looked at his feet while he searched his brain for clarity. He thought as hard as he could but could not come up with a way that he could use his powers to make a movie work.

“How?” Brax asked.

“Huh,” Hank turned back to wrenching the generator.

“They promised they’d power the generators if we gave them each a fact about yeti’s that no one else knows,” Ned continued.

“I don’t remember making any promises,” Bo said.

“You did. When you followed me in here, it’s called an implied agreement,” Ned said.

“What’s that mean?” Brax asked.

“It means you followed me to the generator. Therefore you agreed to power it when you started walking,” Ned explained.

“That seems sketchy,” Bridger said.

“So if we power it, you’ll give us facts?” Brax asked.

“Yup,” Ned agreed.

Brax took a few more steps closer to Hank and the generator. He wasn’t sure where he was supposed to aim but hoped if maybe he just aimed for the entire generator, he’d hit the right spot.

“Wait,” Bo reached his arm out, stopping Brax from moving any closer. “Why don’t you do it?” Bo asked.

“We can’t,” Hank said.

“Why not?” Brax asked.

“That was part of the agreement at the end of the Yeti-Psyner War,” Ned said. “I’ll tell you all about it after you power this thing up.” He slapped the top of the machine.

“Ok, fine,” Bo stood next to Brax.

The two brothers took a deep breath and reached out their arms, preparing to shoot a drac at the machine.

“Look out,” Brax said to Hank, who was still standing in front of the generator.

“Woah, woah, woah. What are you doing?” Ned stood in between the brothers and Hank.

“We’re gonna power it up,” Bo said.

“By shooting it?” Ned raised his eyebrows.

“Well, how else?” Brax scratched his head.

“You touch the object and send the energy from yourself into the machine,” Hank said as if the brothers should already know this.

“I don’t know how to do that,” Brax said.

“Have you ever tried?” Ned asked.

“No, I haven’t,” Brax said. He was irritated. It was all too similar to Uncle Nick, telling him that he had a tendency to not try something because the learning process seemed too hard. He knew Uncle Nick had a point. He’d just never heard it from someone else.

“Then try it,” Hank and Ned both moved to the side to allow the brothers to pass over to the machine.

Brax shrugged at Bo and then walked over, Bo following closely behind. Bridger followed next. He bent down until the top of the generator was at eye level. He may not be able to help, but he wanted a front-row seat to what was about to go down.

Brax and Bo each placed both hands on top of the generator. They looked at each other with unsure eyes. On several occasions, Brax had gotten so anxious that his hands began to glow. He supposed that was the type of energy needed for this. The only problem was, it was never under his control. It took him an entire year to learn how to control Drac’s. It was unlikely he could do this. He always just assumed his fingers glowed from holding in the drac, not from letting out energy.

“Ok, just a little,” Bo whispered to Brax.

“I know. I’m just not sure,” Brax whispered back.

“Just don’t try as hard as you do when throwing Drac’s,” Bo whispered.

“Oh, wow, genius thought. Did you learn your teaching skills from dad?” Brax asked.

“No,” Bo shook his head.

“Ok. On the count of three, ready?” Brax asked.

“Ready!” Bo said.

“Ready!” Bridger said. He was standing to the side of Bo and Brax without his hands on the generator. Brax wasn’t sure what he was ready for, but the three of them did everything together since they were born, so they weren’t going to stop just because Bridger didn’t have any powers.

Brax took a deep breath in and thought about what emotions he could use to bring the power. It still needed to be something strong; he just needed to not push it out of his body as strongly as he typically does. The only thing he could think of was the frustration and annoyance his virtual learning caused him over the past few weeks. It was hard, confusing, and different. All of which caused a stirring in his chest. He quickly realized it was enough to try what he was about to try. He looked at Bo and said, “1, 2, 3.”

Their hands began to glow a light shade of pink on the top of the generator. They both had succeeded at only using a small amount of power. But nothing happened. The generator sat silent, Ned and Hank looked unimpressed, and there was no sign of electricity in sight. The room they were in was still dark, only illuminated by the flashlight Hank had with him and the brothers’ glowing fingers. Brax and Bo both looked at each other and shrugged, each not knowing what they were doing wrong. They simultaneously made the decision to give a little more power. Their fingers didn’t glow more, but the shade turned a magenta pink.

After a few moments with the magenta pink power, the generator began to hum, then vibrate, and then sputter into power. The brothers immediately broke out in cheer and high-fived each other. They were impressed with their own ability to create power for the school.

“Congratulations, you created enough power for us to be able to watch Frozen,” Ned said.

“And that’s awesome!” Bo said.

“Sure,” Ned began to walk out of the basement, and the brothers followed. “Let’s get you the info you need.”

Ned led them to a yeti laying on a faux fur blanket in the snow. Her purple fur sparkled in the sunlight. It was Maxine. She smiled big when she saw the brothers approach. Ned explained to her what the brothers needed, and she quickly invited them to sit on her blanket.

After sitting with Maxine for a while, the brothers traveled back home via the grid. They made it back just in time for class to resume. They were the last three to go and still had unique Yeti facts.

Out of the brothers, Bridger was up first.

“So. What I so geniusly discovered is…” Bridger began.

“Get to the fact Mr. Betke,” Mr. Thomson interrupted.

“I was getting there,” Bridger rolled his eyes. “Anyway. As I was saying. Everyone thinks that yeti ice cream was eaten at the celebration following the original peace treaty during the Yeti-Psyner War, but it wasn’t. It didn’t become part of the celebration until a few centuries later.”

“Thank you Mr. Betke,” Mr. Thomson said. “Next?”

Bo perked up and excitedly told the class about the battle at Yeti Point, where the Yeti’s advanced on the Psyner’s. It isn’t talked about often in history classes because the Psyner’s only wanted to talk about what they did in the war.

“Now, Bo, don’t add assumptions to your information. Let’s only share the facts,” Mr. Thomson warned.

Brax saved Bo by jumping in and sharing his fact. 

“We saved the best for last,” Brax claimed.

Brax then told the class that the Yeti’s travel to the place where the final ceasefire took place, Mount Damalev. They go there to mourn the dead and celebrate their current safety. It’s their own ritual. While they appreciate that Psyner’s celebrate it as well with traditional yeti ice cream, they still want their own celebration. They go a week after Abomination Day. 

“Congratulations, Brax,” Mr. Thomson said. “That is one fact that few Psyners know.”

Brax was happy to see the look of jealousy on Jett’s face. He only saw it for a brief moment before Mr. Thomson dismissed the class, and the children disappeared from his computer screen.

Overall, the day hadn’t made virtual learning worth it, but it made it bearable. That night at dinner, the brothers told their father in excitement how they did so well in history class. It was difficult not to let it slip that they traveled by grid and went to school. But they survived it. Their father said he was proud and couldn’t wait for them to do it all again tomorrow. Brax wished they wouldn’t have to do it again.