The first light of dawn was just brushing the edges of the city, painting the streets in pale gold. Arnold lay on the floor of his small room, staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning. Sleep had abandoned him hours ago, replaced by a strange, restless energy. The flash drive burned a hole in his pocket, its presence impossible to ignore.
After rolling onto his side for what felt like the fifth time, he finally sat up, staring at his sister and Arya, who had decided to spend the night. Quietly, he slipped out of bed, pulling on a shirt over his thin pajama pants. The chill of early morning cut through him as he crept out, the flash drive still pressing against his palm like it was alive. He had to see. He needed to know what was on it.
He didn't have a computer at home—or at least nothing secure enough to examine the drive. His hand brushed against the keys to the Mart in his pocket. Without thinking twice, he headed straight there.
By the time he arrived at the Mart, the sun was now a pale disc on the horizon. He unlocked the back door, stepped into the quiet stockroom, and made his way to the small office at the far end. An old desk and a dusty computer sat there, used occasionally by night staff. Arnold didn't care. He slid the flash drive into the USB port.
The screen flickered, then came alive. Folders and files filled the display, hundreds of them, most labeled in ways that made no sense to him. Code, spreadsheets, encrypted strings—something was definitely here, but he didn't understand what.
Then a new file with the title : Authorization Sequence – Active Asset, popped up. Curiosity burned brighter than caution. He clicked it.
Numbers, symbols, and patterns raced across the screen. He had no idea what they all meant. And then a single line blinked at him:
Dormant Digital Asset Detected: Value Incalculable
Arnold froze. Value… incalculable? He read it twice, then a third time. Was this… money? Real money? His eyes widened as he clicked on the file and a crypto balance stared back at him. The amount was so absurd it could change his life overnight.
Heart racing, he tried to move it into the secure account he'd set up for emergencies. A message popped up immediately:
Access Denied.
He frowned. With the flash bearing his initials, he'd assumed the money belonged to him automatically. His first instinct was to try again, but before he could, a new interface unfolded on the screen. A calm, almost clinical voice filled the room, emanating from the computer speakers:
Welcome, Arnold M. Palmer.
This asset has been designated for your stewardship. Full access requires completion of staged authorization protocols.
A series of tabs appeared, each labeled clearly:
Capital Authority Stage
Human Authority Stage
Information Authority Stage
Institution Authority Stage
Life Authority Stage
A smaller message appeared beneath them:
You must complete each stage to unlock access. The first stage will begin once you accept your challenge.
Arnold's pulse quickened. He stared at the screen, mind spinning. The flash drive hadn't just stored data, it recognized him, and now it was instructing him. It was clear now that someone had planned this. Either someone was trying to mess with him or he'd finally stumbled on luck and the person was trying to help.
He leaned back in the chair, heart hammering. For a moment, he considered going to tell his sister and Arya about it, but he shook his head at the thought. This was bigger than them, bigger than him. If anything went wrong, it could put them in danger.
He pressed the 'Accept' button.
Immediately, the screen updated. A new window opened:
Stage One: Entry Point
Beneath it, a single line blinked:
Annual Global Innovation Challenge—Central Hall, Gilmore City
That was it. No explanation, no instructions.
Arnold leaned forward. This was taking place in his city. He knew Central Hall, but he had never heard anything about the challenge. Was it some sort of conference? A seminar? Or perhaps a scam?
He copied the title and pasted it into his search engine. The results appeared immediately, proving it was real. It was an in-person competition, designed to showcase the brightest students in technology and problem-solving. Teams tackled real-world problems like optimizing city logistics, designing emergency response systems, and building prototypes for complex challenges. The top solutions earned attention, prestige, and a substantial prize.
He frowned. The event was clearly for elites—students from top universities, sponsored teams, and glowing recommendations. He had none of that. Yet it seemed someone wanted him to participate.
"What're you doing?"
The voice made Arnold nearly jump out of his seat. He hadn't expected anyone else to be there. He pressed his hands to his knees, taking deep breaths to calm the sudden spike of adrenaline.
Derrick, the cashier, stood behind him, dressed in his uniform, staring with a scrutinizing gaze.
Arnold glanced at the time on the computer and deftly closed the tabs, disconnecting the flash drive. "Nothing important. I didn't know you usually come to work this early."
Derrick shrugged, moving toward a shelf to keep his hands busy. "I'm always the first one here. You just haven't ever been here early to know that."
"Oh, yeah."
Arnold eyed Derrick's back, unsure if it would be wise to ask for his opinion on what he had just discovered. He and Derrick weren't exactly friends, though Arnold sometimes liked to think they were.
Derrick was older by five years, and it made it hard for them to bond. Derrick seemed to exert his authority as the eldest whenever he got the chance. They were more like acquaintances who understood each other, as Derrick also carried responsibilities of his own being the firstborn. Still, he hadn't hesitated to call the police on Arnold's behalf yesterday when Arnold had sent him a quick SOS message.
Arnold rose to his feet, tucking the flash drive back into his pocket. "I haven't really gotten the chance to thank you for yesterday. I really appreciate it."
Derrick waved a hand dismissively. "It's nothing. You kids were in trouble. Any grown adult would have done the same thing."
Arnold chuckled, shaking his head slightly. If any adult would have done the same thing, his father wouldn't have left in the first place, but there was no need to say that aloud.
"So, um, can I ask you something?"
Derrick turned, chin tilted in attention. "Go on."
"I stumbled across this program while trying to work on a project. It's a government-based competition, I think. I just wanted to know if you've heard anything about it."
Derrick's eyes narrowed. "What's the name?"
Arnold rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sound clueless even though his curiosity was tearing at him. "Annual Global Innovation Challenge."
He waited for a reaction, but Derrick kept his expression placid. He let out a sigh, covering the distance between them in three strides and placed a hand on Arnold's shoulder.
"Kid, I know the prize money is really eye-catching, but it's something way out of your lane."
"Prize money?"
"Five hundred thousand dollars. Same thing every year. The prize alone should tell you you're not qualified enough to take part."
A muscle ticked in Arnold's jaw. He could hear the contempt in Derrick's voice. "Isn't it supposed to be an intellectual challenge? Something for exceptional students?"
"With money," Derrick completed. "You have to spend money to win money in this world, Arnold. And for an outrageous prize like that, we both know there's no way you can afford it."
"So that's it? Actual grades mean nothing to them?"
Arnold's fingers curled into fists, temper rising with the reminder that effort often didn't matter in this world. Derrick noticed the disappointment in his eyes but knew there was nothing he could do about it.
"Most times, yes. But you have to be exceptionally good for them to even consider you. You can't just waltz up to join because you're barely crossing the 4.0 cut to first class."
"But what if I have the grades good enough to get in? How do I apply?"
Derrick gave him a skeptical look, unsure if the information would help. "You'd have to go in person to Central Hall with proof of your abilities to get them to accept you. But you—"
Arnold was already moving toward the exit. He was done letting people underestimate him. He had the brains, the proof, and the determination. This time, he wasn't going to let spoiled, pampered students push him out of a chance that could change everything.