Aside from his facial features that seemed fierce as an eagle, Zyair was not just any guy, he was a tough one, known for his strength that was evident in his well-built, athletic body. When it came to fighting, Zyair was no amateur, he knew his way around a fight, he knew how to hold his ground. Mr. Arcturus knew about this just by feeling the weight of raw strength in Zyair’s hand. It wasn’t the kind of strength you get from lifting weights in a gym, no, it was different. It was the kind of strength that comes from being in real, gritty fights. He’d seen his fair share of fights, and he’d come out the other side stronger each time. Mr. Arcturus was fully aware of this.

The students watched the whole thing and left the physical confrontation to Zyair since they knew he was stronger than anyone else. Yet, when Mr. Arcturus locked eyes with Zyair, maintaining a steady gaze and a composed demeanor; it left the students initially taken aback and annoyed. He should be scared, he shouldn’t just stand there unfazed. The students realized that, due to the modern day’s laws, a teacher couldn’t lay a hand on a student without risking their teaching license or even facing jail time. So, they thought that goading the teacher could be a strategy that could lead him to physically hurt their classmate.

“Oh dear." The teacher's grin was smug, conceited, and almost silly as he looked at Zyair. "I wonder why my student is clutching my collar.”

None of the students in the class seemed to care about what could happen - whether the teacher got hurt, passed out, or even worse, died. They didn’t feel it was their problem, and why would it be anyway? Why should they care? It wasn’t their issue to deal with. They stood apart from all the other classes in their school, and their actions, whether good or bad, didn’t really matter to them. What matters most to them? The strange connection they shared, even if some of them couldn’t stand each other. And of course, their own lives.

This was their first encounter with such outrageous, almost comical conduct, but they hadn’t planned being bested by a stranger. However, things didn’t go as expected. The teacher remained unmoved and just stood there with a smile. It got them thinking, would their usual tricks work on him? They weren’t sure, but it was clear that this was a different case.

Meanwhile at the military base camp, while the technologist reached out the device to the command chief, Lieutenant Livian, the lieutenant then responded to the radio, fully aware that it was unwise to communicate with a faulty device. He let out a sigh before speaking into the radio, “This is Lieutenant Livian speaking.” The soldiers under his command were also in a state of anticipation, waiting for any developments or orders from him.

An eerie silence fell over everyone, and the only sound that could be heard was the persistent static from the radio. Lieutenant Livian, doing his best to maintain his composure, lightly tapped the radio in an attempt to lessen the static as he tried to communicate through it. Within a minute, a garbled voice began to emit from the device, providing some satisfaction to the lieutenant, although he was pressed for time. Initially, the words were indistinct, but as he continued to gently tap the radio, the words started to become more discernible.

“Ope….tion…. –tenant? The…. ope…. shall.…–nue. The operation shall continue. Lieutenant, can you hear me? This is Captain Helga speaking. The operation shall continue.”

When the message finally came through clearly, Lieutenant Livian confirmed receipt and instructed the sergeant to assemble the troops once more. “Everyone, change of plans. Sergeant Soren, ensure all vehicles are fueled and set for departure at 0900 hours. Corporal Sturm, relay to Major Salis. Anticipated arrival at the command post is at 0930 hours. All personnel, pack your gear and get ready to exit from our current base. Next destination, Major Salis’ headquarters. Standby for further mission orders.”

When Lieutenant Livian issued commands to his team, they all responded with a salute and began their assigned duties. However, just when the others were about to do their activities, a man walking from the door entered their base unnoticed. The soldiers were so wrapped up in their tasks that they didn’t notice a stranger entering. This man was slowly strolling around the military base as if it was his own backyard. He was dressed in everyday clothes, not at all like someone who should be in an army base — a blue shirt with a checkered pattern, paired with simple black trousers. He looked like he could be someone’s dad, maybe in his 40s.

“Everyone, halt! There’s no need for such actions,” the man declared in an authoritative voice, subtly referring to the orders Lieutenant Livian had given to his troops. 

He gained entry through the base’s gate, a privilege granted to him by his ID, which was only given to personnel and higher-ranking individuals. His arrival was first recognized by a single soldier, and through this soldier’s salute, others began to notice this man and became alert. Amidst his tasks, Lieutenant Livian found it peculiar that some soldiers were saluting in a different direction. He tried reading the room and was still picking up what was being put down.

“I want all of you to follow my command instead,” he said as the soldiers parted to let him through.

As the man’s silhouette became more distinct under the lights of the base, Lieutenant Livian’s eyes widened in recognition. He immediately straightened his posture, and with a swift, commanding gesture, he ordered everyone to show respect to this man. Without any delay, all soldiers followed the lieutenant’s command and their hands swiftly rose in a salute. The man surely liked the attention everyone gave him so he threw a smile that covered at least half of his face.

Back in the classroom 11-5, Zyair had Mr. Arcturus in a firm grip, their faces barely apart. Zyair’s eyebrows had knitted together in a display of raw anger, while Mr. Arcturus just stood there, beaming a smile that Zyair found intimidating. However, Zyair’s amygdala signaled the production of his body’s chemical molecules and made his patience worn thin, shoving Mr. Arcturus away with a force that made him step back. As Mr. Arcturus stumbled back, Zyair, his muscles coiled as if ready to unleash, lifted his fist, aiming for a forceful blow to the teacher’s right side of the face. The student’s breath hitched in his throat, but he had not anticipated what was coming next. Mr. Arcturus had read his move and easily sidestepped to the left, leaving Zyair’s punch to slice through nothing but the air.

Zyair’s fist clenched and cleared his throat as confusion was written all over his face. He stood there as he felt his chest caving. His hand still balled into a fist and stretched out towards the spot where his target had been.

What just happened? 

He was no novice; he was a seasoned fighter, trained by the best, and all his opponents before were no match for him. And yet, this was the first time his punch had missed its mark, the first time his confidence had been shaken. The students who had been watching this were captivated. They were spellbound, their eyes wide and mouths agape as they saw how Zyair’s fist just passed through the air, missing Mr. Arcturus completely. 

Zyair was stung by the embarrassment and decided to reassert his superiority over Mr. Arcturus. He took a single step forward to adjust his footing and equilibrium. His movements were so swift that his classmates struggled to keep up as he launched another flurry of punches. However, what shocked him was that his teacher managed to evade all his blows. No matter where Zyair aimed his punches, Mr. Arcturus would retreat, all the while wearing a smile as he sidestepped Zyair’s onslaught. It was as though he had foreknowledge of where Zyair’s fist would strike next. He seemed to have a complete understanding of every aspect of Zyair’s offensive.

However, the situation didn’t conclude there. As Mr. Arcturus kept retreating to dodge his student’s attacks, his final step was met with a sense of dismay. He found himself cornered with a wall behind him and no apparent escape route. What took him by surprise was Zyair seizing the opportunity to land a punch. But Mr. Arcturus, being more than just an ordinary somebody who could anticipate what was about to happen, halted Zyair’s punch with his bare hand, all the while holding the paper records in his other hand.

“What the... actual... fuck?” Were the words that escaped Zyair’s lips when his teacher effortlessly caught his punch.