Morning embraced Charlestown with a warm, golden glow, painting the city in honeyed light—shop shutters creaked open, joggers traced loops through the park, vendors arranged steaming buns, and hurried footsteps marked the rush of latecomers to work. It was the usual hum of a Charlestown morning, but today it felt like a melody, as if the world itself celebrated the return of four teenagers from a week of sun, salt, and laughter.
Steven Blake stepped out of the SUV that dropped him at his villa. The air smelled clean despite the city's hum, his skin still faintly warmed from Bali's beaches. Veronica yawned beside him, Mira stretched, and Leon squinted at the sunlight like it personally offended him.
"Home sweet home," Steven murmured.
"Home cold home," Leon corrected, rubbing his arms dramatically. "I'm telling you, Bali spoiled me. I'm never recovering from that beach."
"You say that," Mira snorted, "but you cried when they took your fried noodles away at airport security."
"Hey, that was a personal attack, and you know it."
Veronica laughed, leaning against Steven's shoulder. "Thank you again—for everything. I didn't realize how much I needed that break."
Steven's smile was soft. "Me too."
They exchanged a round of goodbyes—promising to meet soon—and Steven watched the SUV drive away before heading inside.
He pushed open the villa door and noticed a neat stack of mail on the kitchen counter—advertisements first, utility bills, a glossy catalogue for some luxury watch he didn't need. He'd seen them all before.
And then— an envelope with a golden insignia pressed into the wax.
A stylized crest. Two interlocked triangles.And beneath it, five words printed in elegant serif:
Aurelius Institute of Integrated Sciences & Arts
Steven's breath hitched. The Aurelius crest. The one that makes people speak in subdued awe: AIISA.
He'd already told his parents he would go—he'd said yes weeks ago when the institute extended their invitation, right after the SAT result.
He took a deep breath and broke the seal.
Dear Mr. Steven Blake,We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the Aurelius Institute of Integrated Sciences & Arts…
Steven exhaled, slow and steady. This envelope was the official packet: welcome procedures, dorm details, campus maps printed on heavy stock, and forms that smelled faintly of institutional certainty. Its arrival was not a surprise. It felt ceremonial anyway. But it carried weight and respect.
Natalie was at the stove, Morris with his morning cup in hand. They glanced up when Steven placed the packet on the table. Pride softened their faces, but it was worry—careful, steady—more than stunned ecstasy.
"So it's here," Natalie said, not with disbelief but with that same small intake of breath parents make at every milestone. "You're really going."
Morris folded the packet open with hands that had learned to handle more than card stock. "AIISA's very different," he said, voice even. "Not just smart people—there are heirs and titans there. Keep your head. Don't let the lights blind you."
Steven laughed, a low, easy sound. "I won't. I'm not the reckless type."
"Mm." Morris's eyes twitched into a grin. "That's what you said before you went to Veronica's birthday party—and the next morning, half the town's talking about you racing at Silverline and someone claiming you own half a racetrack."
Steven's smile widened. "Old headlines don't stick. I'll stick to the plan."
Natalie reached out and smoothed the collar of his shirt. "Promise me one thing—call us. Often. Don't disappear into some lab."
"You have my word," he said, and he meant it. Their worry wasn't doubt. It was parent-worry—small, relentless, old as the world.
They'd all known the offer was coming. They'd known what it meant. What they didn't know, and what he was still building toward, was the way AIISA would become less of a destination and more of an engine.
Phones began to sing like a small orchestra. Veronica's name blinked first.
"Steve!" she burst out, breathless in that way she always was when happiness ran away with her. "We're actually doing this. I can't believe we all get to be idiots under the same roof."
Mira's call followed—more measured, practical, thrilled. "I'll finally have access to labs," she said. "Imagine the projects."
Leon dialed in last, a careless swagger over the line. "Obviously I got in. Dad said the institute cleared me—something about legacy and not letting the family lose face." He feigned a scoff, then—quiet, just for a second—"You better not make me the weakest link."
They laughed and traded half-promises about study groups and the dinner places they'd haunt on campus. The chat was easy, the kind that made days feel longer and lighter. And for a few moments, the world shrank to the four of them and the thrill of walking into a place that names like Aurelius whispered about.
Night fell soft and clear. The villa lights warmed the glass. Steven stood on the balcony with a cup of tea he meant to sip but left cooling in his hands. Below, the city murmured. He watched the streetlamps blink awake and felt the same nervous excitement you get before the curtain lifts.
The phone buzzed. Leon again.
"You won't believe this," Leon said, voice threaded with equal parts mischief and something like a dare.
"My dad's… uh… connections got their hands on it."
Steven raised an eyebrow. "Connections?"
Leon coughed. "Look, when your dad is Veron Black, people basically trip over themselves to share secrets. But bro… this batch? These aren't normal students."
"Anyways. I shouldn't even have it, but—hey—helpful, right?"
Steven stilled, curiosity rising. "Read it."
Leon sounded delighted to oblige. "Alright, listen. We've got a real roster this year. People you'll probably read about in news headlines."
He began, and Steven let the names fall into place like the first pieces of a chessboard:
"First Chase Whitlock — Manhattan finance prodigy. So, this guy, only eighteen," Leon began, "runs a simulated hedge fund. And it beat actual funds. And he memorized the entire U.S. tax code for fun. "
Steven blinked. "Why would anyone do that?"
"Because he's a demon, that's why! His brain is numbers; his eyes are calculus. Attacks spreadsheets like a composer at a piano."
"And then Everly Grant — Silicon Valley tech scion. Her family runs the Grant Robotics Empire. She built her first operating kernel at eleven and a drone swarm navigation suite at sixteen. Beautiful, efficient, terrifying—she codes like an artist and thinks like a strategist."
Steven felt a familiar spark of excitement.A tech rival. Or a potential ally.
He liked the sound of that.
"And Cyrus Hale — Texas energy heir. Okay, this guy is terrifying. His family owns energy plants, oil fields, renewable grids… everything. They say he has a private R&D lab in his backyard. Like an actual lab."
Steven nodded. "Interesting."
"No! Not interesting! Terrifying!"
"Oh yeah, there is also Blake Ramirez — Miami biotech wunderkind. Skipped two grades. Published a paper at sixteen. Won awards. Rumor says he's already developing some new vaccine model."
Steven's fingers drummed on the armrest.
Medical talent.He needed that.
Leon's voice softened on the last syllable, almost proud and almost afraid. "These people are… monsters."
Steven let out a slow breath that was closer to a laugh than anything else. "Monsters," he echoed. "Good. I like monsters. They're more interesting than polite humans who'll only compliment you."
Leon sighed dramatically.
"Steven… do you think you can shine among these freaks?"
Steven smirked. "Of course. And what about you?"
Leon made a noise between choking and whining.
"Me?! Compete with these clowns and nerds? Please. I have my charm. I'll survive."
But when the call ended, Leon remained seated in silence—eyes glued to his acceptance letter.
His bravado faded.
For a moment, insecurity flickered beneath the cool exterior.
He didn't say it out loud, but the truth sat heavily on his tongue:
Am I good enough?
But Leon shook his head, squared his shoulders, and forced himself to believe he'd grow too.
Later that night, Steven stepped out onto his balcony.
The city stretched before him—lights glittering, cars flowing like veins of bright blood, life humming with potential.
He rested his hands on the railing.
A new world waited for him at AIISA—one filled with talent, competition, and ambition.
And he would walk into it not as a follower, but as someone ready to build an empire.
A soft chime broke the silence.
[System Quest: Rise of the Titan]Enter AIISA.Gather 10 exceptional talents.Found your first elite division.
Reward: 50,000 SP + Unique Ability (Locked)
Steven's lips curved into a slow, quiet smile.
"AIISA…" he murmured."Let's see what kind of world you're hiding."
The night wind brushed past him, carrying the scent of possibility. Tomorrow would be packing, farewells and flights. But tonight, he allowed himself one indulgence: the small, sharp pleasure of knowing the arena was set.
The next chapter of his life—his rise—had officially begun.