The student welcome section transformed the courtyard into a festival of energy and excitement. Banners of various clubs fluttered in the morning breeze, booths lined every walkway, and students—both new and returning—moved through the lively scene in groups, stopping to browse the displays and sign up for activities. The air buzzed with overlapping voices, laughter, and the occasional burst of music from the orchestra booth where a violinist was demonstrating his skills to an impressed crowd.
Mira and her friends wandered through the maze of club stands, scanning the choices.
"Mira! Over here!"
Valeria stood next to a display of lush greenery, her excitement barely contained. "You have to join the Rare Plant Greenhouse Club with me. They have an entire collection of endangered species, some even brought in from other countries. Just look at these seedlings!"
Mira's face lit up. Plants had always been her quiet sanctuary, and the idea of spending time in a greenhouse filled with rare species was irresistible.
"I'm in," she said without hesitation, taking the sign-up sheet from Valeria.
"I knew you'd say yes!" Valeria beamed.
Meanwhile, Elara had already made her decision, her gaze fixed on the Elite Dance Club booth where a group of students was performing an elegant routine. "I'm signing up for this," she announced. "They're one of the most prestigious clubs on campus."
"Elite dancing, huh?" Luca whistled. "Guess we should all expect to see you in some grand performances soon."
Elara smirked. "Of course."
Luca, ever the enthusiast, wasn't satisfied with just one club. As soon as they passed by the Movie Club booth, he signed up without hesitation.
"Another one?" Mira asked, amused.
"I have layers," Luca said, placing a dramatic hand on his chest. "Movies are art, and I intend to appreciate them properly."
Camille, who had been listening quietly, finally stepped forward at the Orchestra Club booth. The soft sound of a cello filled the air as a student demonstrated a piece.
"I think I'll join this one," she said softly, her fingers brushing over the club's brochure. "It feels... right."
Mira smiled. "That's perfect for you."
Elias and Naomi, however, still lingered behind, undecided.
"I feel like I should explore a bit more before committing," Elias admitted, scanning the options.
"Same," Naomi nodded. "There are too many choices."
With most of them signed up for something, the group made their way toward the food booths, where the real chaos of the welcome event unfolded.
The scent of grilled skewers, fresh pastries, and warm, spiced drinks filled the air. Lines of hungry students stretched in every direction, voices rising over one another as people called out orders and vendors hurried to serve them.
"This is the real first-day experience," Luca declared, eyes gleaming as he spotted a stand selling loaded sandwiches. "Food, Mira. Food is the key to happiness."
Mira laughed, shaking her head as she took in the bustling scene. Students gathered around tables, sharing meals and swapping stories, the air alive with excitement.
It was overwhelming. It was exhilarating. It was the start of something new.
❧
The penthouse was a vision of understated luxury—floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, casting reflections of neon lights across the polished marble floors. A muted television played a news segment in the background, Adrian's face flashing across the screen, his name already a subject of public fascination.
Nate lounged on the leather couch, a glass of whiskey in hand, watching the screen with an amused smirk. As Adrian stepped inside, he barely looked up before speaking.
"Well, well. Look who's the face of every damn news outlet today." His grin widened. "Should I bow to the great academic prodigy?"
Adrian's expression remained unreadable as he crossed the room, his presence commanding despite the casual setting. "You saw the news," he said coolly. "Let's talk business."
Nate let out a low whistle, feigning offense. "Damn, not even a 'how have you been'? You were always a cold bastard."
Adrian ignored the teasing and sank into the chair across from him, exuding the same quiet authority he always had. There was no time for games—this was about the company now.
Nate swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching Adrian carefully. The kid—if he could even be called that anymore—had orchestrated all of this from the start. And for a brief moment, he found himself remembering the first time Adrian had walked into this penthouse with a different kind of proposition.
Two year earlier.
The same penthouse, but the atmosphere was different—less polished, more chaotic. The room had been cluttered with stolen tech, illegal data servers humming in the background, and half-finished biotech prototypes that should never have existed outside of a government lab.
Sixteen-year-old Adrian Vale had walked in like he owned the place.
Nate barely looked up from his screen, fingers flying across his keyboard as he hacked into another high-security system. "You ask like you're not knee-deep in this too," he muttered.
Adrian didn't respond right away. Instead, he pulled a small data chip from his pocket and placed it on the table between them.
"We both know the underground biotech game is reaching its limit," he said, voice calm but firm. "The Vale family could shut it all down overnight if they wanted to." A pause. "I don't want to play this game anymore—I want to build something they can't touch."
That got Nate's attention. He leaned back, eyeing Adrian carefully. "And here I thought you liked playing king of the shadows."
Adrian's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I'd rather build an empire in the daylight. One that isn't dependent on backdoor deals."
Then, the real bombshell.
"I want you to run it."
Nate laughed—because the idea was insane—but Adrian didn't flinch.
Nate considered it, tapping his fingers against his glass. "Let me get this straight. You're asking me, a criminal mastermind, to go legit and run a tech empire?"
Adrian met his gaze, steady and unwavering. "Yes. Unless you prefer being on the run forever."
For the first time, Nate found himself at a crossroads. He could keep playing this game, running from the inevitable. Or he could take the deal and rewrite the rules entirely.
Silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, Nate smirked.
"Alright, kid. Let's play this game."
Back to the present.
The penthouse was quieter now, the remnants of their past fading into the background. Nate lifted his glass, watching Adrian with that same knowing smirk.
"You really planned all this from the start, didn't you?"
Adrian leaned back, his gaze sharp as ever. "Of course."
Beyond the windows, the city lights pulsed like a heartbeat. Their old world was gone, replaced with something far more dangerous. Adrian would remain the silent force behind the company, and Nate—the face the world would see—was more than ready to play his part.
Adrian slid into the seat across from him, expression unreadable. "Let's talk about Horizon."
Nate let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Straight to the point, as always." He tapped a folder on the table, pushing it toward Adrian. "The buy-in went smoothly. You've got influence, but on paper, you're just another silent investor. No trails leading back to the Vale name."
Adrian nodded. That was a given. "And the technology?"
Nate leaned back, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. "Next-gen neural interfaces. No implants, no surgeries. Biochemical stimulation, brainwave modulation—the kind of tech still labeled 'experimental' but capable of rewriting the rules on cognitive enhancement."
Adrian's fingers tapped lightly against the glass in his hand. "No overlap with my family's domains. No direct competition."
"Exactly. Vale controls hospitals, pharmaceuticals, traditional biotech patents… but this?" Nate tilted his glass, watching the liquid catch the light. "It's outside their reach."
Adrian exhaled slowly, his gaze distant but sharp. "That means two things. First, we don't fight the industry. We position Horizon as a future acquisition target—make it too valuable to crush."
Nate's smirk returned. "And second?"
"We control how it grows."
For a moment, there was only the sound of jazz and ice shifting in a glass. Then Nate set his drink down, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and respect. "The way I see it, we've got two primary markets—medical applications and high-performance enhancement. Alzheimer's treatments, cognitive therapy… but also researchers, elite professionals, anyone who needs an edge."
Adrian met his gaze evenly. "Horizon has to remain subtle. No grand announcements. Just steady, undeniable progress."
Nate nodded, swirling the glass again, considering the trajectory they were on. "You're right. And with our other ventures now gaining momentum, it's time to leverage that. The Innovation Lab's already got a pipeline of concepts, and Horizon can fit perfectly into the ecosystem we've started building. We've got early-stage startups working on everything from biowearables to next-gen diagnostics. If Horizon's tech lives up to its potential, it could bridge the gap between theoretical breakthroughs and practical applications."
Adrian's fingers drummed against the table, thinking ahead. "The Lab has the infrastructure to scale, but it's not about volume. We need to prioritize quality—make each project a stepping stone toward something bigger. Horizon, alongside the others, can redefine how healthcare evolves, but the focus remains on precision, not spectacle. Everything we fund, from here on out, has to be disruptive, but with purpose."
Nate leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "Purpose, yes. That's the key. But the world doesn't always wait for the perfect solution. The market wants results—and fast. You know that better than anyone."
Adrian didn't flinch. "Then let's make sure they're results that matter."
Nate studied him, then let out a quiet chuckle. "You don't want them to see us coming."
Adrian lifted his glass slightly. "By the time they do, it'll be too late."
A slow, knowing grin spread across Nate's face. "You really do play the long game."
Adrian took a sip of his drink, the city stretching out behind him. "Wouldn't be here if I didn't."
❧
The smell of aged mahogany and expensive cigars. The sharp click of a lighter. His father's voice, low and controlled—too controlled.
"This is not a discussion, Adrian."
He remembered standing there, unshaken, unblinking. The silence between them stretched, thick as iron. Then, his mother spoke, her voice softer, almost pleading.
"You don't have to prove anything to us."
Adrian exhaled slowly. He had waited for this moment since he was nine—every step, every decision, every carefully placed move had led to this. There was no hesitation in his voice.
"I'm leaving."
Lucian Vale set his glass down hard against the table. The ice inside cracked.
"You think you can just walk away?" His father's voice turned sharp, like glass cutting through skin. "From the empire, from everything—"
Adrian turned toward the door, not bothering to answer.
Behind him, his father's voice rose—for the first time, it cracked with something deeper than anger.
"Adrian."
He didn't stop.