Zach wasn't much for writing. When it came to assignments at the Academy or the ones he did for the tutors his parents hired when he was younger, he wrote what he needed to write. He answered the questions, but he didn't drawl on or give overly detailed answers. Occasionally, it frustrated his teachers and the instructors since they couldn't tell how he had gotten those answers.
But that was all a matter of passion. Zach wasn't passionate about what his teachers and instructors had been teaching and instructing.
He was, however, passionate about the perceived slights of the Labyrinth against him. So, he wrote. He filled sheet after sheet with his grievances.
When he finally felt done, he put down the pen with a satisfied smile. As if it couldn't wait, the Labyrinth tore down the desk and the walls, letting Zach into the same area as Violina and Oria.
