Oakridge Academy — Midnight
The campus had gone silent, the kind of silence that felt deliberate—unnatural. No lights burned in the dorm windows. No footsteps echoed in the corridors. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Aarvin's team moved through the darkness like trained phantoms.
Riyan adjusted his jacket, rolling his shoulders. "Why do I suddenly feel like the underdog?"
Adrien didn't look at him. A faint smirk touched his lips. "Because you are. That's why they chose you."
John emerged from the shadows beside them, jaw tight, eyes locked on the stairwell ahead. "James is already inside. Basement entrance is clear—but he's waiting."
Aarvin didn't slow. His voice was calm. Cold.
"Good. Let him."
The Descent
The narrow staircase swallowed them whole. Each step downward felt heavier, thicker—like walking into something alive.
The air reeked of rust, gasoline, and old stone.
Positions snapped into place without a word.
* **Liam, Noah, Mason** sealed the upper exits.
* **Elena and Aiden** split left and right, flanking silently.
* **Ethan and Caleb** slipped toward the control panel—cameras first.
* **Adrien** stationed himself at the door, fingers flexing, ready to lock the cage.
* **Aarvin, Riyan, and John** moved straight into the heart of it.
The basement lights flickered once.
Then steadied.
James stood against a concrete pillar, hands in his pockets, a lazy smile carved across his face.
"Welcome," he said softly. "Took you long enough."
From the shadows, **ten figures stepped forward**—bigger, rougher, armed. Juniors. Seniors. Loyalists.
Riyan exhaled through his nose. "That's cute. You brought friends."
James laughed. "You think this is a party? This is justice."
Aarvin raised one hand.
"No," he said. "This is a mistake."
**Chaos**
The lights died.
Everything exploded.
Adrien slammed the door shut—**metal on metal**—the sound final. Locked.
Static tore through the basement as Ethan hijacked the speakers, the screech forcing James's men to stagger, clutching their ears.
Aiden moved first—clean, precise—dropping two attackers before they could react.
Riyan ducked a blade, drove his elbow back, and kicked a body into a rusted pipe. The clang echoed like a gunshot.
Aarvin became motion.
No wasted strikes. No hesitation. Every punch landed with purpose—short, brutal, controlled. He didn't chase chaos; he **cut through it**.
John froze—one heartbeat too long.
Then he moved.
Not for James. Not for redemption.
For survival.
James snarled, shoving forward. "You're all dead!"
**The Turn**
It ended fast.
Too fast for James to understand.
Aarvin slammed him into the wall, forearm pressing into his throat. Concrete cracked beneath the impact.
"You made a mistake," Aarvin said quietly.
James spat blood, laughing through it. "What mistake?"
Aarvin leaned in, eyes unreadable.
"You underestimated us."
Around them, weapons hit the floor.
One by one.
Silence reclaimed the basement.
James's men backed away, hands raised, breathing hard.
Riyan wiped sweat from his brow, grinning through a split lip. "Not gonna lie… that was kind of fun."
Adrien chuckled under his breath. "Next time, warn me before you start a war."
John stared at Aarvin, realization settling in. "You planned all of this."
Aarvin released James and stepped back. "I planned survival."
**Aftermath**
Sirens wailed aboveground—closer now.
Red and blue lights bled through the basement windows.
James was dragged to his feet, cuffs snapping shut around his wrists. His smile was gone.
Aarvin looked around at his team—bruised, breathing hard, standing.
"It's over," he said.
Elena met his gaze. "For now."
Riyan yawned dramatically. "Cool. Can we sleep now?"
For the first time that night, someone laughed.
As they walked out into the night air, Oakridge stood unchanged—quiet, innocent.
But something beneath it had shifted.
The storm hadn't passed.
It had **learned**.
*To be continued…