While Zyan and Sahil fought their own battle in the sunny fields, a different kind of fight was happening inside a nearby school. In a classroom that smelled of old books and chalk, students were leaning over their desks, studying hard for exams.
Among them was a boy named Neo.
For Neo, school was a battlefield, and he was always losing. He wasn't good at his studies, and because of that, his life was hard. His teachers scolded him, his classmates made fun of him, and even his parents showed that they were always disappointed. Their harsh words and mean looks were a constant storm he couldn't escape.
Even so, he tried. He studied harder than anyone, driven by a deep and honest loyalty. He was trusting enough to believe that if he just tried one more time, they would finally approve of him. He always believed their smiles were just around the corner, unable to see the ugly truth of their constant disappointment. But the words and numbers on the page always looked like a confusing mess he couldn't understand. He struggled to learn things the way others did, and his goals always felt impossible to reach.
But Neo had a gift, something that made him special. While he couldn't memorize facts, his imagination was a whole world of its own. He could understand the deep meaning of almost anything, seeing hidden patterns that everyone else missed. He had created an entire fictional world in his mind, a place with heroes and magic, and his biggest dream was to become a writer and share it with people. He wasn't the kind of person who could keep secrets, and he honestly wanted to give this world to anyone who would listen.
No one cared.
To them, he was just the quiet, dark-skinned boy who was shorter than everyone else. They saw his daydreaming as a weakness, not a gift. They called his stories "junk" and a waste of time. He was like an island in the middle of a crowded room, with no friends to talk to. To his teachers and parents, he was just a side character in someone else's story, never the hero of his own.
The lunch bell rang, its loud sound freeing the students. As Neo was putting his books away at his locker, three older teenagers cornered him. Even now, after all the times they had made fun of him, his first trusting thought was that maybe this time they just wanted to talk. They were tall and muscular, and they stood over him like threatening giants.
"Look, it's the little dreamer," one of them sneered, shoving Neo hard against the metal lockers. The loud clang echoed in the noisy hallway, but no one bothered to look or help. They grabbed his notebook—the one filled with the maps and stories of his imaginary world—and tossed it between them, laughing as he desperately tried to get it back.
"What is this garbage?" the leader mocked, flipping through the pages before dropping them on the floor. "Why don't you focus on your homework instead of this fantasy trash?"
After they had their fun and finally left, Neo slowly picked up his scattered pages, his heart heavy with shame and anger. He didn't go to the busy cafeteria. Instead, he snuck away to a place no one ever went—an old, forgotten storage room at the back of the school.
The air inside was thick with the smell of dust and old, rotting things. Broken desks and forgotten equipment were piled in the corners like skeletons. Here, surrounded by garbage, Neo sank to the floor and leaned his head against the cold wall. The bullies' insults echoed in his mind, mixing with the disappointed words of his parents and teachers. In the silence of the dusty room, he felt completely and totally alone, a loyal hero trapped in a world that punished him for his trust.