The morning sun streamed through the windows of the Rivera mansion, casting golden streaks across the polished floors and elegant cream-colored curtains. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the dining room as Aiden sat across from his parents, mechanically spooning cereal into his mouth.
His mother chatted idly about a new art piece she was curating. His father scrolled through his tablet, occasionally commenting on rising stock prices and upcoming board meetings. But Aiden barely heard them. His mind was elsewhere—still stuck in that alley, in the shadow of the stranger who had saved his life.
After breakfast, both parents kissed him goodbye before leaving for work. His mother reminded him not to lock himself in his room all day, and his father encouraged him to get some fresh air. Aiden gave vague nods and waves, waiting only until the front door clicked shut before bolting up the stairs to his room.
This was it. He finally had the house to himself. No more distractions.
He opened his laptop, fingers poised over the keyboard.
How do you even search for someone like that?
He hesitated, then started typing:
"Tall boy, around 18-19, dark hair, icy blue eyes, extremely handsome, athletic build, dressed in black, silver earrings, sharp jawline, looked like he could kill someone without blinking—saved me in an alley."
Aiden stared at the search bar, cheeks flushed. It was ridiculous. But it was also true.
He hit enter.
Most of the results were useless. Blogs about guardian angels. Vampire fanfiction. Paranormal sightings.
But then, on the third page of search results, something made him pause.
It was a picture—blurry but clear enough.
His heart skipped a beat.
That's him.
Same midnight-black hair, same piercing blue eyes, same cool expression that said he was used to danger and didn't care about it.
Aiden clicked on the image, which led to an article.
"Ryker Kane, heir to the Kane Corporation."
He scrolled rapidly, soaking in every word.
Ryker Kane. A name as sharp as the look in his eyes.
His family owned one of the most powerful multinational corporations in the world, but they were intensely private. Ryker almost never appeared in public unless it was for official family matters. No interviews. No social media. No red carpet appearances. Just scattered photos and whispered rumors.
No wonder I couldn't find him sooner, Aiden thought.
He kept digging.
Eventually, he found a barely-sourced article mentioning that the Kane family had founded an elite institution called Skyline Academy. The article didn't say much—it was vague, filled with speculation—but it did mention that Ryker was one of its star students.
Skyline Academy wasn't a high school or a university. It existed in a strange in-between, accepting students between the ages of seventeen and twenty. Every graduate had an incredible future ahead of them. Some became tech prodigies. Others diplomats. A few disappeared from the public eye entirely.
The academy itself was a mystery.
No address.
No application forms.
No listed faculty.
No verified photos.
Aiden sat back in his chair, frustrated and amazed all at once.
He glanced at his reflection in the laptop screen—his long silver hair falling into his face, golden eyes still wide with fascination.
There has to be a way in, he thought.
He opened a group photo from one of the academy's rumored functions. Ryker was in the back, as usual, trying not to stand out. But Aiden noticed something curious on his jacket—an odd spiral-shaped symbol etched into the collar.
It wasn't a logo he recognized. So he copied it and uploaded it into an image search.
At first—nothing.
But after jumping through a few forum threads, redirect links, and a suspicious-looking archive page, he found something that looked promising.
A glowing, encrypted link:
Only the worthy will be seen.
Aiden clicked.
The website was unlike anything he'd ever seen—black background, swirling script, and a single paragraph in the center of the screen:
> To those who seek the truth, prove your worth.
Submit a single drop of blood to the address below.
No more. No less.
There was no contact form, no "submit" button. Just a street address at the bottom of the screen.
Aiden leaned back, stunned.
"A drop of blood?" he repeated aloud. "Is this some kind of twisted joke?"
He stared at the screen, trying to decide whether he should laugh or shut it all down and forget this ever happened.
But then Ryker's face flashed in his mind—those piercing eyes, the way he stood between Aiden and danger like it meant nothing.
Aiden sighed. "Screw it. What do I have to lose? It's just one drop."
---
He grabbed his phone, wallet, and hoodie and headed down the street to the nearest pharmacy. There, he purchased a syringe from the first aid section and returned home. In the bathroom, he cleaned his arm and gently pricked the skin, wincing slightly as a single drop of blood formed.
He collected it in a small glass vial from an old DIY science kit, sealed it tightly, and called a taxi.
As the cab drove through the city, Aiden's nerves kicked in. His palms were sweating, and he kept checking to make sure the vial hadn't cracked.
The address took him to an old corner bookstore. It looked... normal. Unremarkable. Wooden sign. Dusty windows. A quiet shop that no one would look at twice.
This can't be it... right?
He pushed open the door. A small bell chimed above him.
A middle-aged woman behind the counter looked up with a kind smile. "Looking for a book, sweetheart?"
"Um..." Aiden's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "I'm here to... drop off... some blood?"
The words felt ridiculous. Embarrassing. Was this all a prank? Had he been trolled by some ancient website?
But the woman didn't flinch.
"Ah," she said, nodding calmly. "For Skyline Academy?"
His mouth dropped. "Wait... it's real?"
"Of course," she said pleasantly. "Follow me."
She led him into a small back room filled with filing cabinets and shelves. It smelled faintly of parchment and lavender. She accepted the vial, labeled it carefully, and asked for his name.
"Aiden. Aiden Rivera."
His voice shook slightly.
"And your age?"
"Seventeen."
She wrote it down, attached the label to the vial, and placed it gently in a wooden box filled with identical glass vials.
"That's it?" Aiden asked.
"That's it," she said. "Go home. If you're accepted, you'll be notified in one week."
---
Back in the cab, Aiden stared out the window, overwhelmed.
The whole process felt too easy. Too strange.
And yet, it had all happened.
Maybe it's just a scam, he thought. Maybe it's just a weird blood collection thing and I'll never hear back.
But somewhere in his chest, deep beneath the doubt...
He hoped.
He desperately hoped.
Because if this led him back to Ryker Kane—
It would be worth everything.