Making his way to Class 3C, Maxwell ignored the looks of contempt and disdain from a few teachers as he passed. Some gazes carried pity and sympathy, but he chose to disregard them all the same.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Flores," one teacher greeted him with a polite smile as he walked by. Despite her friendly tone, Max couldn't help but notice the pity in her eyes. He nodded in acknowledgment, offering a brief "Good afternoon" before continuing on his way, determined to focus solely on picking up his brother.
Maxwell opened the door to Class 3C and was met with the sight of a large, lively classroom. A few kids were playing and laughing, passing the time as they waited for their parents or guardians to arrive. Their ages ranged from as young as four to around eleven. Most of the children were gathered in small groups, chatting and playing with their friends, while a handful sat quietly by themselves.
Making his way to the back of the classroom, Maxwell spotted his little brother sitting alone, engrossed in drawing on a piece of paper.
"Hey, champ," Max called out as he approached.
Ben looked up from his drawing, his face lighting up with joy. "Max!" he yelled, jumping up and running into his brother's arms, wrapping him in a tight hug.
"How was school today?" Maxwell asked with a laugh.
"It was fun!" Benjamin replied, starting to pack his books into his bag.
"It was? Well, let's get you home then. Fun is bad for your health," Max joked, lifting Benjamin up and placing him on his shoulders.
"Nuh-uh! I love fun!" Benjamin giggled, his laughter echoing as Max carried him out of the classroom.
As they made their way to the gate, Maxwell called out, "See you later, Mr. Dax."
"Just Dax, kid. Take care of yourself," the guard replied with a nod.
The trip home was uneventful, except for the knowing looks they received from passerby.
Once they were on the train back to the middle district, Maxwell sighed as Benjamin eagerly tugged him along toward their apartment.
"Remember to take your bath first," Maxwell reminded him. "I'll go set up lunch." He took off his jacket and headed to the kitchen to prepare the food they had bought on their way back.
Afterward, he dropped onto the couch and continued scrolling through his phone.
# Chief Harvard steps forward to shed light on grim situation concerning the increasing gang wars. Expand••• #
# * just a bunch of lowlifes with nothing better to do* Upper district chairman's opinion on increasing gangwars. Is this an altercation?Expand••• #
Maxwell looked up to see Benjamin sitting at the table.
"What took you so long? Were you feeding that grasshopper again?" he asked with a sigh.
"He's not a grasshopper. His name's Terry," Benjamin defended, his tone earnest.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Maxwell surrendered with a chuckle.
Benjamin glanced up at him, his smile fading. "Aren't you joining me?"
"Nah, I've already eaten," Maxwell replied, his face partially hidden behind his phone.
"Oh, okay," Benjamin said quietly, returning to his meal.
Benjamin began eating with a downcast look on his face. Maxwell watched him from the corner of his eye, Beth's words echoing in his mind.
"Ben might be little, but he's not stupid... and get some actual food in your stomach. Now open up."
Maxwell sighed, then smiled. "You know what? I think I'll join you. Make room, big guy." He nudged Benjamin to the side and sat down beside him.
"Really?" Benjamin's face brightened, and he giggled. As he resumed eating, he excitedly started talking about his day at school.
(Unknown location)
"What's the news?" a burly man asked, his left side covered in tattoos. He wore only purple leather pants adorned with silver chains, and a compact silver gauntlet on his right arm, with more chains loosely tied around it. He sat on the top step of an old stairway, his posture relaxed yet commanding.
The question was directed at a lanky man who lay relaxed on the third step. He wore a brown sleeveless jacket, with silver chains loosely dangling from the sides, and black leather pants, also covered in silver chains.
"They're getting desperate. With new faces and upcoming competition, they're too eager to show their power. It's going to cost us." He flicked a small knife that seemed to appear out of nowhere, watching it spin in the air for a few seconds before it landed back in his hand.
"What are you thinking?" the burly man asked.
"They need a scapegoat. And we need time." The lanky man balanced the tip of the knife on his forefinger.
"Something we both don't have," the burly man grunted.
"Not exactly. Things are about to get really busy." The lanky man flicked his hand, and the knife disappeared, replaced by a phone.
He scrolled through the phone for a few seconds before handing it to the burly man.
The burly man read through its contents for a while, then let out a heavy sigh. "Well, shit."
"Yep," the lanky man responded with a sigh of his own.
"Hey, Ara. I've got a job for your brother."
On the sixth and final step, a dark-skinned girl sat. Her brown hair was tied in a braid, and she wore a black fitted sleeveless top. Her loose camo leather pants were blue with shades of grey, accented by silver chains. Both her wrists were wrapped in silver chains, the ends dangling loosely.
Hearing the burly man call her, she frowned.
"Now, calm down, it's nothing too dangerous. Just a look around. You trust him, don't you?" The burly man gave an awkward smile, trying to reassure her.
She sighed, standing up. Her figure was illuminated by the dim lamplight. Standing at an impressive six foot four, she had a lean, toned body that would make any man take notice. Her compact muscles hid incredible strength beneath her poised exterior.
"Goodnight," she said, taking a deep breath. With a hop, she scaled a three-story building in just a few jumps. Grabbing onto the ledge, she pulled herself up and disappeared into the night.
"Wild, that one," the lanky man chuckled.
"Well, what else can we do but guide her? She deserves better—more than this shitty world can offer," the burly man said with a sigh, still staring at the phone in his hand.
21/05/2041
It had been four days since Maxwell started joining his brother for meals.
Hard at work, Maxwell wore a noticeable smile that seemed to rub off on everyone around him. The other workers, catching his mood, also appeared in high spirits.
When the bell signaling lunch hour rang, Maxwell, David, and Beth found themselves at their usual spot in the canteen. David ordered a serving of mashed potatoes with gravy, accompanied by a soft drink.
Beth ordered her usual—shrimp and fried beef with an extra side of shrimp and fried beef—along with a bottle of water. Maxwell, as always, stuck to his usual potato porridge.
"Come on, Max, spill it. What's got you so hyper this morning? Is it my beauty? Sigh, the woes of being irresistible," Beth teased, poking Maxwell repeatedly as she spoke.
"I've seen roaches prettier than you," David quipped without missing a beat.
"Why you little—!" Beth growled, immediately lunging at David and starting to playfully strangle him.
"It's Ben," Maxwell began, his voice soft but full of emotion. "He's finally getting back to normal. Well, not normal normal, but he's getting better. He's having fun in school, his grades are improving, and he's smiling again. It just reminds me of two years ago—like they're all still here. Mom, Dad, and Wendy." His voice wavered as tears welled up in his eyes.
Beth and David exchanged a glance, their expressions softening. Seeing their friend so emotional, they smiled warmly, determined to cheer him up.
"Keep that smile, Max," Beth said gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We like you better that way."
The rest of the day went by without a hitch, and after signing out, the trio made their way home. As usual, Beth was the first to part ways, giving them a cheerful wave before heading off. A little while later, David continued on his route, leaving Maxwell to make his way to the subway.
Once aboard the train, Maxwell settled into his seat and pulled out his phone, idly scrolling through his notifications and the latest news. His eyes scanned the screen absentmindedly until one headline caught his attention. He froze, his heart skipping a beat as he reread it, the words sending a chill down his spine.
# Multiple Explosions Rock Upper District's West Sector. Gangs Retaliate. Read More...
# Several Locations Targeted in West Sector Bombings. Injuries Mount as Fatality Count Rises. Is This a Declaration of War? Read More...
"West Sector? No. Oh no, no, no, no."
Trembling, Maxwell scrolled through his phone, praying to any deity that would listen. But his fears were confirmed as the names stared back at him, cold and unrelenting.
# Bluddie Ltd, Enteric Hospital, Ireday Elementary School, Ireday High School. Read More...
The train ride to his destination felt agonizingly slow, each second stretching into an eternity. As soon as the train came to a halt, Maxwell dashed out, his heart pounding in his chest.
Reaching the bus stop, Maxwell was met with the sight of congested traffic, no doubt a result of the attacks on the Upper District.
Realizing a cab would be pointless, he made a split-second decision and took off running, his legs carrying him toward Ireday Elementary School as fast as they could manage. The journey was grueling, but determination fueled him. Twenty minutes later, he finally arrived, his lungs burning and his muscles screaming in protest.
The first thing he noticed was the thick smoke rising into the sky, curling ominously above the school. Then came the crowd—a chaotic mass of worried parents and onlookers. The piercing wail of sirens filled the air, accompanied by the flashing lights of ambulances and emergency vehicles.
Without pausing to catch his breath, Maxwell pushed his way through the throng of people, ignoring their protests. Ducking under the yellow caution tape, he forced his way closer to the scene.