The classroom fell silent as Mr. John shuffled in, looking even more worn than usual. His clothes were slightly wrinkled, and his eyes held that familiar, sunken expression. He dragged his feet to the front of the class, cleared his throat, and, in a tired, monotonous voice, said, "Good morning, class."
A few half-hearted responses echoed back as students settled into their seats, anticipation hanging in the air. Mr. John placed a stack of papers on his desk and rubbed his temples before continuing, "Today's lecture is about the military academy… where you all will be spending the next three years."
A hush swept over the class, and eyes widened, the gravity of it sinking in. Three years in this academy. Some of the students shifted in their seats, glancing at one another, as though silently questioning if they'd make it that long. The tension was palpable.
