Theo and Zurab walked away from the scene without a care in the world. Blood still clung to Theo's hands, but it didn't bother him. It was just part of the day. They walked in silence, the sound of their boots hitting the wet pavement echoing around them. The tension from the fight was already starting to fade, replaced by the usual cynicism that had become their reality.
"Catch you later," Zurab muttered as they reached the corner. He was headed to his class, while Theo had his own. They gave each other a nod, nothing more needed. It was the kind of unspoken brotherhood they had.
Theo watched Zurab disappear into the distance before he turned and made his way toward his own class. The school building loomed in front of him, a stale and gray reminder that there was no escape from this shitstorm. It felt like every step he took only sank him deeper into the grime of Vardani.
By the time he entered the classroom, he could feel the eyes on him. His shirt was half untucked, his hands covered in traces of blood that hadn't quite dried yet, but no one dared say anything. They all knew how things worked. Theo wasn't the kind of kid you messed with.
The History teacher, a middle-aged man named Vladimir Vasiliev, shot him a glare that could freeze water. His face was a mix of disappointment and disdain, but it was the kind of disdain that came from familiarity. Vasiliev was one of those teachers who had seen it all, but somehow, he still thought he could make an impression on kids like Theo.
Vasiliev's voice cut through the silence like a rusty knife. "Why are you so late, you little rascal?" He wasn't yelling, but his words carried a weight that threatened to crush anyone who wasn't ready to deal with it.
Theo just stared at him, barely blinking. The man was just another piece of the system that didn't get it. He didn't care about the rules—he never had.
"Traffic," Theo muttered, the words dripping with sarcasm, as he walked toward his seat. He didn't even bother to take the time to explain himself.
Vasiliev scoffed, shaking his head. "Do I look like I'm buying that, Vardi?"
Theo didn't flinch. He dropped his bag onto the desk and slouched in his chair, looking around the room as if nothing mattered. "You're welcome to buy it or not. I couldn't care less."
Vasiliev's eyes narrowed. He knew the type—kids like Theo didn't give a damn about consequences. But there was something about the defiance in Theo's eyes that made him pause for a second. He wanted to say something, to throw Theo out, but he knew better. Messing with kids like him could turn out to be more trouble than it was worth.
Instead, Vasiliev muttered something under his breath and went back to the lesson, still glaring at Theo. The rest of the class went quiet, the tension between them palpable.
Theo didn't care, though. He had bigger things to worry about than some history class. After all, it wasn't the past that mattered in Vardani—it was survival in the present.
Absolutely! To get to the consequences of Theo's actions, we can set up the scenario by establishing the pressure he faces after the fight and the repercussions that come from defying the school's and the district's unspoken rules. Here's how we could set up the consequences, taking into account the dangerous world Theo lives in:
---
Setup for Consequences:
After Theo walked into the classroom, the tension from the fight began to catch up with him. As he sat there, the blood drying on his hands was a reminder of what he'd just done. The adrenaline was fading, but in a city like Vardani, there was no such thing as a quiet moment. Every action had consequences—and not always the kind you could escape from.
The history teacher, Vladimir Vasiliev, was still watching Theo, his expression growing darker. In a school like this, the teachers weren't just there to educate—they were part of the system, aligned with the powerful figures in the city. And if you got on their bad side, it wasn't just about a detention or getting sent home.
It was about survival.
Theo knew that. It didn't matter if Vasiliev was some washed-up old man who'd never seen a real fight. In Vardani, the connections between the school and the underground world ran deep. Word would spread fast—someone had already seen him fighting. And someone would be paying for it.
---
The Teacher's Warning:
After the class settled into its usual low hum, Vasiliev stood at the front, looking out over the students with a calculating gaze. He wasn't concerned with the lesson anymore; his mind was on Theo.
"You know," Vasiliev said, his voice low but sharp, "this kind of behavior might not be so easily ignored. I've been here long enough to see what happens when kids think they can do whatever they want."
Theo could feel the teacher's eyes burning into him. He didn't flinch.
"Whatever," Theo muttered, barely glancing up. But Vasiliev wasn't done yet.
"I'm not the one you should worry about," Vasiliev continued, his words now carrying a certain weight. "But there are people who do notice when someone's too eager to throw a punch."
Theo's stomach dropped. He knew exactly what Vasiliev meant. The teacher wasn't just referring to the school system. There were others—the ones who ran the streets, the ones who controlled the flow of everything. They didn't take kindly to kids like him stirring up trouble.
Absolutely! To get to the consequences of Theo's actions, we can set up the scenario by establishing the pressure he faces after the fight and the repercussions that come from defying the school's and the district's unspoken rules. Here's how we could set up the consequences, taking into account the dangerous world Theo lives in:
---
Setup for Consequences:
After Theo walked into the classroom, the tension from the fight began to catch up with him. As he sat there, the blood drying on his hands was a reminder of what he'd just done. The adrenaline was fading, but in a city like Vardani, there was no such thing as a quiet moment. Every action had consequences—and not always the kind you could escape from.
The history teacher, Vladimir Vasiliev, was still watching Theo, his expression growing darker. In a school like this, the teachers weren't just there to educate—they were part of the system, aligned with the powerful figures in the city. And if you got on their bad side, it wasn't just about a detention or getting sent home.
It was about survival.
Theo knew that. It didn't matter if Vasiliev was some washed-up old man who'd never seen a real fight. In Vardani, the connections between the school and the underground world ran deep. Word would spread fast—someone had already seen him fighting. And someone would be paying for it.
---
The Teacher's Warning:
After the class settled into its usual low hum, Vasiliev stood at the front, looking out over the students with a calculating gaze. He wasn't concerned with the lesson anymore; his mind was on Theo.
"You know," Vasiliev said, his voice low but sharp, "this kind of behavior might not be so easily ignored. I've been here long enough to see what happens when kids think they can do whatever they want."
Theo could feel the teacher's eyes burning into him. He didn't flinch.
"Whatever," Theo muttered, barely glancing up. But Vasiliev wasn't done yet.
"I'm not the one you should worry about," Vasiliev continued, his words now carrying a certain weight. "But there are people who do notice when someone's too eager to throw a punch."
Theo's stomach dropped. He knew exactly what Vasiliev meant. The teacher wasn't just referring to the school system. There were others—the ones who ran the streets, the ones who controlled the flow of everything. They didn't take kindly to kids like him stirring up trouble.
Later that day, when the bell rang, Theo tried to slip out of the classroom unnoticed, hoping to avoid any more unwanted attention. But just as he reached the door, Zurab appeared, pushing through the crowd of students. His expression was serious—he didn't even crack a smile.
"You're gonna want to sit down for this," Zurab said, pulling Theo aside in the hallway.
"What now?" Theo asked, his voice tinged with frustration. He didn't have time for whatever drama was about to unfold.
"Word's already spreading," Zurab said, lowering his voice. "Some of the bigger guys... they're talking about you."
Theo's heart skipped a beat. The "big guys" Zurab was talking about weren't the kind of people you wanted to draw attention from. They weren't teachers or principals—they were the muscle, the ones who ran the underground scene, the ones who had their fingers in everything.
"They saw the fight," Zurab continued, "and they didn't like it. They've got a problem with the way you're handling things."
Theo clenched his fists. He didn't need Zurab to spell it out. The fight he'd had earlier with Goga wasn't just a random scuffle—it had triggered something much bigger.
Zurab gave him a look. "You know what that means, right?"
Theo's mind raced. He didn't answer immediately. The word consequences was always thrown around in this world, but he hadn't quite grasped the full meaning until now. Every punch he threw, every line he crossed, every time he defied the rules—it all came back in the end. And this time, it felt like it was coming back harder than ever.
"You've got to make this right," Zurab warned. "Before they make it right for you."
Theo's eyes narrowed. He knew this was bigger than just a fight with some random guy. If he didn't handle this the right way, there was a very real chance that things would get out of hand—fast.
Later that day, after school, the two of them were walking home when Theo noticed a black car parked across the street. It wasn't the kind of car you saw every day. The windows were tinted, and the engine was running, even though it was pouring rain.
Zurab stopped dead in his tracks. "Shit. This isn't good."
Theo's heart began to race. He could already tell. The weight in the air shifted. Someone wanted to have a conversation, and it wasn't the kind of conversation that ended well. Not in Vardani.
"You're gonna need to show them that you're not someone to fuck with," Zurab muttered. "If you don't, they'll walk all over you."