Routine

The piercing sound of the alarm sliced through the remnants of Zero's dream, dragging him abruptly back to the present. Cold sweat drenched his sheets, a vivid reminder of the raw emotions he had felt moments ago in that haunting dream. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, a stark contrast to the eerie morning silence.

Gathering himself, he sat up, pushing away the damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead. He drew a shuddering breath, trying to chase away the darkness of those memories. As he regained his composure, the corners of his mouth slowly curled into a sinister grin, his eyes reflecting a chilling determination.

"I remember now," he murmured, his voice dripping with malice. "And I promise, both of you will rue the day you crossed me."

In the pre-dawn gloom, a dark resolution took hold. Zero's past and his present collided, offering him a unique chance at retribution. NexTech, once a symbol of his past pains, now stood as a beacon for his vengeance. The company's involvement with game tech would provide the perfect stage for his revenge, and he intended to exploit it to the fullest.

With his newfound purpose, Zero approached the start of his day with a vigor he hadn't felt before. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled his room, its rich scent grounding him to the here and now. He sipped it slowly, letting the warmth spread through him, bolstering his resolve.

With the clock striking 7:00, he headed to the academy gym, determined to sculpt his body and mind. Each lift, each step on the treadmill, became a testament to his dedication. He channeled the pain of betrayal into every rep, every sprint, seeking to transform it into strength.

His commitment to morning runs and regular gym sessions wasn't merely for self-improvement; it was a declaration of his intent. Zero was preparing, laying down the groundwork for a plan that would shake the very foundations of NexTech and those who had once betrayed him in his previous life.

The academy gym, nestled at the heart of the sprawling dormitory complex, was a testament to the institute's commitment to holistic development. Spacious and modern, the gym boasted floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed the early morning light to drench the room in a soft glow. The scent of clean sweat, polished metal, and the faint aroma of disinfectant created a familiar and invigorating atmosphere. The walls, painted in the academy's signature deep blue hue, were adorned with motivational quotes, aiming to inspire those who entered its precincts.

To the right, the cardio section held a line of state-of-the-art treadmills, ellipticals, and stationary bikes, each fitted with individual monitors for tracking performance metrics. On the left, an extensive free weights area sprawled out, with dumbbells of varying sizes and gleaming barbells that stood ready for use. There were also specialized equipment zones, dedicated to different muscle groups.

An elevated platform at the far end served as the venue for group classes. Mirrors lined its perimeter, giving its users a clear view of their posture and form. Adjacent to it was the functional training zone, equipped with kettlebells, resistance bands, and TRX ropes. The faint hum of machines, the rhythmic thud of footsteps, and the occasional grunt of exertion filled the air.

As Zero made his way to the weights section, his eyes caught a familiar figure. Mike, with his tanned skin and tousled hair, was deeply engrossed in a set of bench presses. His forehead glistened with sweat, evidence of a workout session already in progress.

"Morning, Zero," Mike puffed out between reps, acknowledging his friend with a nod.

Zero grinned, ruffling his own damp hair, "You're here early, as usual. Trying to show the rest of us up?"

Mike let out a chuckle, setting down the weights with a sigh of relief. "Just setting the pace, my friend. If I slack off, how am I supposed to keep up with you?"

Zero smirked, selecting a pair of dumbbells for his routine. "Fair point. well, good luck with your work."

Mike shot him a competitive look, wiping his brow with a towel. "Always, mate. Always."

Their friendly banter, a customary start to their mornings, set the tone for the rigorous workout that followed. But amidst the lifting and pushing, Zero's resolve remained unwavering. This gym, and the friendship he found within, would be the foundation upon which he'd build his revenge.

Post-workout, he returned to his dorm, the cascading water from the shower washing away not just the sweat but also the remnants of his nightmare. As he dressed, he mused over his schedule for the day: Languages, Geography, Social Studies, and culminating with Physical Education.

As Zero made his way through the pristine, marble-floored hallways of the academy, the soft murmur of early morning conversations filled the air. Students, donning the academy's signature navy-blue uniform with its embossed emblem, chatted animatedly, the excitement of a new day palpable.

He entered class 1, a spacious, well-lit room with vast windows that offered a panoramic view of the academy's sprawling grounds. Rows of ergonomic chairs and desks, equipped with state-of-the-art digital interfaces, were neatly arranged. The front of the classroom was dominated by a vast smartboard, the hub of interactive learning.

Seated in their usual spots, Kayla, with her bouncy brown curls and ever-present bright smile, waved enthusiastically as she caught sight of Zero. Next to her, Camilla, the more serious and introspective of the group, nodded in acknowledgment, adjusting the sleek glasses that sat on her nose. And of course, there was Mike, sprawled in his chair with the confident ease of someone entirely comfortable in his surroundings.

"Morning, Zero," Camila chirped, her eyes twinkling. "Ready for another day of linguistic gymnastics?"

Zero chuckled, sliding into the seat next to her. "With you all by my side? Always."

Before any further conversation could ensue, the classroom door swung open, drawing all attention to the newcomer. A tall, imposing figure with a head of salt-and-pepper hair and sharp, intelligent eyes scanned the room. His attire was impeccable—a tailored suit paired with a crisp white shirt and a tie that had intricate patterns embroidered onto it.

"Good morning, class," he began, his voice deep and resonant. "I am Mr. Hernandez, and I'll be your Languages teacher for this academic year." He paused, letting his gaze settle on each student, as if trying to read their stories. "In our time together, we will embark on a journey through the vast world of languages. Specifically, we will be delving into English, Mandarin, and Spanish. These are the three most spoken and influential languages worldwide. And in mastering them, you will be opening doors to diverse cultures, histories, and opportunities."

He walked over to the smartboard, fingers gliding over the interface to bring up an intricately detailed map of the world. Different regions were highlighted, indicating where each language held dominance. "Language," Mr. Hernandez continued, "is not just about words. It's about understanding perspectives, connecting with people, and broadening one's horizons."

Kayla, her interest piqued, raised her hand. "Mr. Hernandez, will we also be learning about the cultural contexts behind these languages?"

A pleased smile crossed his lips. "An excellent question, Ms...?"

"Kayla," she replied, her voice steady.

"Ms. Kayla," he repeated. "Yes, we will be delving into the cultural nuances and histories that have shaped these languages. For to truly understand a language, one must also understand the heart of its people."

The class buzzed with whispers of approval and interest. Zero exchanged glances with his friends, a silent consensus passing between them. This year, under the guidance of Mr. Hernandez, promised to be nothing short of enlightening.