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At just fourteen, Chase was already known for his brilliant mind. But his reputation had recently been stained by the controversial claims he and his father had made about a mystical portal beneath the sea. Their insistence on the portal's existence had turned them into objects of ridicule. Their names became synonymous with mockery, as the world laughed at them, dismissing their story without hesitation.
The morning sun bathed the world in golden light as Chase set out on his walk to school. The path he now followed was different from the one he'd known before. Once, life had been filled with comfort and privilege, his every need easily met. But now, the riches of his family felt hollow. What had truly set him apart wasn't wealth—it was his intellect. His mind, sharp and curious, was his true gift.
Despite his family's status, Chase had always carried himself with a rare humility, never letting arrogance or entitlement cloud his judgment. He didn't flaunt his wealth or status, and he didn't need to prove his intelligence to anyone. It was just who he was.
As Chase walked through the busy city streets, cloaked by the shadow of his hoodie, he moved with purpose. The bustling crowd barely noticed him, yet he was keenly aware of every sound around him. And then, like a storm approaching, the roar of an engine cut through the air.
"Vroom!"
Chase's heart skipped a beat as a car zoomed past him. He exhaled in relief as it continued its way down the road, but then, from the car, a voice called out. It was sweet, almost syrupy, but the malice behind it was unmistakable.
"There's Chase. Perhaps we should help him through this... lift?"
The tires screeched as the car jerked to a halt beside him, blocking his path. Chase instantly recognized the voice. Kayla. Her smile was too polite, her words too kind, but something in her eyes betrayed her true intent.
The door opened, and a figure stepped out. Hampton, a boy who didn't stand out in appearance but carried himself with a palpable sense of superiority. At fifteen, he was a year older than Chase, but his arrogance made him seem far more imposing. He strolled towards Chase with an air of casual dominance.
Chase, unwilling to engage, tried to sidestep him, hoping to avoid the confrontation, but Hampton's strong hand gripped his arm, pulling him back.
"Where's the rush, little man? Shouldn't you be preparing for the apocalypse, like your father said?" Hampton sneered.
Chase's patience snapped. Without thinking, he swung his fist, connecting with Hampton's nose. The satisfying crunch of impact made him feel a fleeting sense of triumph, but it was quickly overshadowed by the angry shout from the boy.
"OUCH!"
Inside the car, a group of four—two boys and two girls—laughed at the scene, their voices laced with cruel amusement. Carter, the strongest among them, grinned wickedly as he took in the scene. He was built like a boulder, and his presence only made Chase feel smaller. Beside him was Kayla, her eyes gleaming with malicious intent, while Belinda sat quietly, watching it all unfold with an unreadable expression.
Carter's fist shot through the air, a blur of muscle and rage, and before Chase could react, he was sent crashing to the ground, pain exploding across his body. As Carter raised his fist for another blow, the sound of an approaching car cut through the air.
"Shit! It's her. Run!" Hampton's voice trembled with fear as he scrambled back into the car, panic spreading through him like wildfire. The engine roared to life, and the car sped off, leaving Carter behind to deal with the mess.
Carter hesitated, fear flickering in his eyes as the sound of another vehicle grew louder. He quickly bolted into the nearby bushes, trying to hide from what was coming.
A sleek crimson Lamborghini slid to a stop, its arrival commanding attention. The door opened, and a leg emerged—long, slender, and graceful. Then the rest of the figure stepped into view: Kellie.
At fifteen, Kellie was already strikingly beautiful, a vision of youthful elegance. She moved with the kind of grace that made even the most seasoned models seem clumsy. Her striking features, her delicate symmetry, and the way she held herself—everything about her radiated perfection.
Chase couldn't tear his eyes away as she approached, her confident steps carrying her toward him. Her lips parted, and when she spoke, her voice was cool and composed, but there was something sharp beneath it.
"Is this the path you've chosen, Chase? From the top to the bottom, a fall you refuse to stop. A portal to another world, a fantasy. You really think it will happen in a year? Do you think that's a path worth following?"
Chase's words were measured, his voice calm but tinged with frustration. "If you've come to make this worse, I suggest you leave. Time doesn't wait for anyone. Not for me, not for you. And don't talk about my father like that."
Kellie's lips curled into a smug smile. "Your words don't influence me, Chase. I'm not here because of you. Let me remind you—my father was the one who wrote the letter that sealed your father's fate." She spoke with a weight that seemed to crush him.
Chase's face drained of color as the full impact of her words hit him. "Your father... He was the one who caused this?"
Desperation welled up inside him, overwhelming his pride. Without thinking, he dropped to his knees and grabbed Kellie's shoe, his forehead pressing against the ground in a gesture of humble plea.
"Please, Kellie. Ask your father for help. He cares about you. Maybe if you speak to him, he'll listen. My father's ruin is because of me, and I don't want to drag anyone else down."