The bell rang sharp and cold across the academy.
The students were led to the training grounds — a massive open field surrounded by concrete walls and a looming observation tower. The sun beat down mercilessly, and even the birds had the sense to stay quiet.
Their instructor stood waiting. A broad-chested, scar-faced man with a presence that could shake mountains. His sheer energy level seemed capable of out-Calvin-ing Calvin — and that was saying something.
“Alright, listen up, shrimps!”
he barked, voice like a military airhorn.
“Out here, we train your bodies, sharpen your minds, and grind you into something that might resemble a soldier. So let’s get started.”
He cracked his neck like it was a threat.
“Start running. I don’t want to see anyone slacking.”
“Uh… how many laps, sir?”
someone from the crowd asked, timid.
The instructor’s glare could’ve melted steel.
“IF I WANTED YOU TO KNOW HOW MANY ROUNDS, I’D HAVE SAID! NOW SHUT UP AND START RUNNING!”
The group scattered into motion like frightened deer.
A few laps in, two boys peeled off from the running group and stumbled to the sidelines.
“Ugh… I’m done,”
one groaned, hands on knees.
“That’s it. I’m finished.”
“Yeah,”
the other chimed in.
“We, need… conserving energy. For, like… bird watching.”
Their voices were faint, too far off to recognize.
The rest of the class kept running.
After a minute, Velmira frowned.
“Hey… is it just me, or is it suddenly really quiet?”
Kael glanced around.
“You're right. I don’t hear any wheezing. Or complaining. Or—”
“Dumb flirting attempts?”
Trollin added.
They all exchanged confused glances mid-run.
“…Something’s wrong,”
Kael muttered.
A few more strides later, the group rounded a bend—
And came to a jarring stop.
There, lying flat on their backs like peaceful casualties of war, were two very familiar idiots.
Calvin and Rio. Half-buried in dust. Completely motionless.
“Wait… is that—?”
Velmira squinted.
“…Our idiots?”
Kael finished.
Trollin knelt briefly, poking Calvin’s forehead.
“Yep. They’re alive. Just… rebooting.”
“They really did go down,”
Velmira whispered in awe.
“That explains the silence.”
“They took the chaos with them,”
Kael muttered, looking genuinely disturbed.
The instructor stomped over like thunder on legs.
“Something funny over there?”
Everyone immediately stood straight.
“No, sir!”
“You wanna join them? I can make that happen real fast.”
Everyone shook their heads faster than their legs were moving.
“Then what are you WAITING FOR? MOVE!”
And with that, the squad bolted forward — away from the cratered corpses of their friends and the wrath of a coach who wasn’t even winded.
By the end of the session, students were dropping like flies.
One by one, the coach began pulling them off the field, near collapse.
Only three figures remained, still running.
Trollin. Kael. Selene.
No banter. No whining. Just relentless rhythm, dust rising around their feet, their bodies moving on sheer willpower alone.
The rest of the class sat off to the side, nursing bruises and egos, watching silently.
Whatever was pushing those three forward — pride, rage, or stubborn spite — it was clear:
This wasn’t just training anymore.
It was something else.
The sun hung low now, casting long shadows across the worn-out field.
The instructor checked his watch.
“Halt. At ease.”
The three still running — Kael, Selene, and Trollin — finally dropped.
They didn’t sit. They didn’t stagger. They collapsed, hitting the ground like marionettes whose strings had been cut.
The coach walked past them without slowing.
“Good.”
That was all he said. But for a second, the entire field went still. No groaning. No joking. Just silence.
And somehow, that one word felt louder than a speech. Kael couldn’t help the faint, exhausted smile tugging at his face.
“Based on today’s performance,”
the instructor called out, turning to the rest of the gasping, crumpled students,
“you’ll be split into new groups. Assignments will be posted tomorrow on the notice board.”
He jerked his thumb toward the two dirt-covered bodies still lying peacefully in their shallow trenches.
“Someone collect these two pieces of trash and drag them back to the dorms.”
A few students groaned. Trollin, already sitting upright, shook his head.
“Should’ve left them as fertilizer.”
“We are fertilizer,”
Calvin mumbled, face down in the dirt. “Emotionally.”
The coach gave them all one final glance.
“Dismissed.”
And with that, the field emptied — boots dragging, legs trembling — but hearts pounding a little stronger.
Because somehow, even through the dirt and the madness… it still felt like victory.