Chapter Three: The Crown and the Cage
The bell rang through the vast corridors of the Visalla Institute, signaling the end of double-period mathematics. From the large wooden doors of Room 4B, Leo and Ray stumbled out like survivors of war.
"Man," Ray groaned, clutching his head like it was about to explode. "How will I ever use the quadratic equation to fight enemies? Like... 'x squared equals you're dead'?"
Leo rolled his eyes, running a hand through his thick dark hair. "Can I use it to butcher my enemies? Graph them onto a coffin?"
"See? Now you're thinking like me," Ray said with a wink.
"Quit nagging," Leo grumbled. "You're not the only one suffering."
"Man, I wish I were a genius like Michael," Ray sighed dramatically. "Do you think it's possible to—hear me out—take his brain out and eat it? Then we become geniuses by digestion."
Leo gave him a blank look. "Are you okay? You need a psychiatrist."
Ray waved a hand in the air. "Can't you imagine something crazy for once in your cold, calculated life?"
"Quit eating my mind now."
Ray elbowed him playfully as they walked. "Hey, you got any friends other than me? Maybe a therapist, even?"
Leo raised an eyebrow. "What do you take me for?"
"Ray's official description of Leo Visalla," Ray began in a mock announcer voice, "Loner. Introvert. Creep. Cold, antisocial strategist. I could write a whole book. Bestseller."
Leo smirked. "His name is Dr. Shani."
"Ooh, sounds like a cool man. Mysterious. Maybe wears a fedora."
"He's a retired war medic."
"Even cooler!" Ray chirped. "Anyway, let's find our master."
Leo tucked his hands into his coat pockets. "He's probably in the training room."
"Man, I wish I had a personal training room. The public one's full of creeps."
"Of course it is," Leo muttered. "Especially when they see a midget swinging a sword."
Ray gasped. "I am five feet and eight inches! That's statistically average height!"
"Yeah, sure. Shortie."
"Bring a tape measure then, huh? Let's settle this scientifically."
Leo chuckled under his breath. "Yea, yea. Shortie."
They turned down a quieter corridor, passing ancient portraits of past Visalla elders, until they reached the polished steel door at the end. No nameplate. Just a biometric scanner and a small button for guests.
"Should we knock?" Leo asked.
"Nah," Ray said, already pushing the door open.
Inside, the air was thick with motion.
Michael Visalla stood shirtless, drenched in sweat, muscles taut and glistening under the soft golden lights. He moved like liquid steel, each swing of his blade a seamless transition between attack and defense. His form was precise, elegant, brutal.
Ray froze. "Woo... that body. Even as a man, I'd fall in love with you."
Michael stopped mid-motion and turned. His sharp eyes met Ray's in dead silence.
Without a word, he picked up his towel from the bench, wiped the sweat off his face, and reached for his black shirt.
Leo clicked his tongue. "You even creeped out the great, cold Michael."
"Oh, come on," Ray grinned. "It's a compliment."
Michael pulled the shirt over his head and walked toward them. "What are you two doing here?"
"Can't we just visit our best friend?" Ray asked innocently.
Michael crossed his arms. "State your purpose."
Leo stepped forward. "Let's go out for a drink. Just one night. You need a break."
Michael shook his head. "I have work."
"Come on," Ray whined. "You can spare one evening. What's so urgent?"
Michael looked down for a moment, then said, "It's the island."
Both Leo and Ray stilled.
"Are you really doing it?" Leo asked quietly.
Michael nodded. "Once I become an official member of the board, I'll propose the project to the Head."
"Big move," Leo muttered. "Alright, alright. Guess we postpone the party."
"Ah, man," Ray groaned. "I was totally in the mood for karaoke."
Michael's phone buzzed. He pulled it out from his pants pocket and tapped the screen. A reminder glowed:
'Tomorrow: Check-On Day'
His expression shifted slightly. Then he locked the screen and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Without another word, he walked past them, leaving behind only the echo of steel, sweat, and silence.
Ray scratched the back of his head. "So... no drinks?"
Leo sighed. "You never stood a chance."
Ray glanced at the sword rack. "Think he'd notice if I borrowed one?"
"He'd notice. And you'd lose a hand."
"Tch, so dramatic." Ray turned and walked out. "I bet he wouldn't even miss me if I were gone."
Leo followed behind. "He'd miss you. He just wouldn't say it."
"How comforting," Ray muttered, and the door clicked shut behind them.
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