PMMA, or Preston Mixed Martial Arts, was more than just a high school. It was a prestigious institution, with a reputation for academic excellence that was matched only by its prowess in the world of martial arts. Students from around the globe flocked to PMMA, drawn by its rich history and impeccable standards. Within its hallowed halls, fighters were born, and legends were made. And for those fortunate enough to be accepted, it was the start of a journey that would change their lives forever. The school hall was a sea of faces, all belonging to young people of varying backgrounds and nationalities. There were students from all corners of the globe, united by a shared passion for martial arts. They all looked different, but they all had one thing in common: the desire to succeed. And for many, this school represented their best chance at achieving their dreams. The sounds of their voices filled the hall, but there was one sound that stood out above the rest. A low, rumbling growl that seemed to come from deep within the school itself.
The silence was deafening as the principal of PMMA, Musashi Suzaki, strode into the hall. He was a mountain of a man, standing well over six feet tall and built like a tank. His dark eyes swept over the crowd, and it was clear that he expected nothing less than absolute obedience. The air was thick with tension, and the students were frozen in place. Not a single sound was heard, save for the tapping of Musashi's polished dress shoes on the polished floor. The students held their breath as Musashi came to a stop at the front of the hall.
" By the gods, this is quite the turnout!" the vice principal, Aleksander Kiryanov, whispered in awe. He had a thick Russian accent. A man with unkempt dark hair and a pair of reflective shades stood next to the principal.
He looked around at the assembled crowd with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
"Geez, Musashi, you sure know how to draw a crowd," he said, his voice low and easygoing.
"Is this what you call student orientation?"The principal, Musashi, simply raised an eyebrow in response.
BHe had an air of quiet authority, and his piercing gaze was enough to silence even the most talkative of individuals, Aleksander chuckled, clearly used to Musashi's stoic demeanour.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said, turning his attention back to the students. Musashi continued,
"Rule number two: Loyalty to PMMA comes above all else. You are here to serve a greater purpose, and your personal feelings are irrelevant. Am I understood?".
The students nodded, a murmur of assent rising from the crowd.
"Rule number three," Musashi continued, his voice unwavering. "You will be tested, and you will be pushed to your limits. Do not expect any mercy. If you fail, you will be expelled. There are no second chances."
The words hung in the air, heavy with gravity. A few students began to look uneasy, "Rule number four: You are all equal here. Your background, your family, your connections - none of it matters. What matters is your performance.
Musashi's voice rang out like a bell, his final rule echoing off the walls of the hall. "Rule number five: You are a member of PMMA now, and you will uphold its honour. You will not disgrace this institution. You will not act in a way that would reflect poorly on us.
"Do you understand?"
There was a brief pause, and then the students responded in unison, their voices clear and resolute.
"Yes, sir!". In the stillness that followed, the students could hear a distinct cackle coming from the principal. His shoulders were shaking as he burst into a hearty laugh, the sound reverberating off the walls.
The students were stunned, unsure of what to make of this sudden outburst. A few giggles broke out, as the room filled with a sense of unease and confusion principal turned to the vice principal, who was still giggling and wiping tears from his eyes.
"You see", Aleksander, this is how it always goes," he said, his voice warm and conspiratorial. "I have to lay down the law, so they know who's in charge. A little bit of levity goes a long way, don't you think?"
Aleksander chuckled. "it sure does," he said, his voice still a bit hoarse. The principal's smile was infectious, and his words seemed to put the students at ease. He explained that while was martial arts part of learning, the most important thing was to learn and improve without getting involved in competition and prestige.
He said that martial arts should be about self-improvement, not just about winning tournaments or getting accolades. It should be about pushing oneself to be the best that one can be, both physically and mentally.
"Remember, you're here to learn, not to win," he said, his words ringing with wisdom and experience. The student chorused
"Yes sir".As the principal and vice principal left the podium, the students rose to their feet and filed out of the hall.
They talked and laughed amongst themselves, their spirits lifted by the words of the principal. It was as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders, and they felt ready to take on the world. The energy in the air was electric, and it seemed as though anything was possible.
An orientation was held shortly, a lady stood out from the crowd. She was dressed in a navy blue suit that was both classy and stylish. The suit was tailored to accentuate her figure, and it fit her perfectly. Her shoulder-length hair was styled in a way that showed off its natural waves, and she had a radiant smile that lit up the room. As she walked through the crowd, heads turned to take in her elegance and grace. The lady continued her speech, explaining that the school was divided into two distinct sections.
The first section of the school was This section was called the "Nexus" and was focused on honing students' inner skills and abilities.
The second section of the school was located in New York City, USA. This section was called "The Odessey" and was focused on preparing students for outer tournaments and competitions. the students listened attentively, absorbing the information as best they could. It was a lot to take in, but they were eager to learn more about theirs.
"In addition to the inner and outer development," the lady said, "both campuses also focus on academics.
The Nexus offers courses in philosophy, meditation, and other subjects that expand the mind. The Odyssey offers courses in math, science, and other subjects that help you apply your knowledge to the real world. No matter which campus you're on, you'll always be learning and growing."
The students listened attentively, trying to absorb as much information as possible.
A student calls to attention asking whether they have a choice of choosing their core subject,
"That's a great question!" the lady responded. "You do have a choice in what subjects you study at this school. You can choose to focus on one or the other, or you can choose a combination of both. We want you to follow your passions and interests, so you can tailor your studies to what you're interested in. The goal is for you to become the best version of yourself, and that means giving you the freedom to choose what you want to study." The students were amazed at the flexibility and freedom this school offered.
TWO MONTHS LATER....
The school bell rang, echoing through the corridors as students moved swiftly to their various classes. It had been two months since the new term began, and the rhythm of school life was in full swing. The morning rush filled the air with shuffling feet, hurried conversations, and the unmistakable sound of lockers slamming shut.
Blake, with his usual brisk stride, hurried to his next class, hoping not to be marked late again.
Just as he approached the classroom door, a loud thud interrupted his momentum. He stopped abruptly, looking down to see a boy sprawled on the floor. The boy had a mop of blondish-brown hair and wore glasses, which now sat crooked on his nose as he struggled to get back on his feet.
Blake stood frozen at the entrance of the classroom as a tense silence enveloped the space. The boy on the ground, Lucas, groaned, still trying to gather himself. Just then, a figure slowly approached, his footsteps deliberate and almost taunting. The boy was tall, but not overly so, with a lean build that suggested a deceptive strength. As he neared, he began to roll up his sleeves with a measured calm, his green eyes flickering with a mix of rage and twisted amusement.
"What did I tell you, Lucas?" the boy sneered, his voice cold but tinged with a mocking edge. His gaze bore down on Lucas, who was still trying to steady himself, one hand pressed to the ground for support.
Lucas, wincing slightly, managed to look up. His glasses had slipped down his nose, and his expression was one of weariness mixed with resignation.
"I told you... it's not possible at this point," Lucas muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He sounded defeated, like someone who had been through this too many times. "I've been really busy, Jakeson."
At the mention of his name, Jakeson's smirk widened. He stepped closer, now standing directly over Lucas.
The classroom had fallen eerily silent; every student had stopped what they were doing, their eyes glued to the unfolding scene.
Blake could feel the tension thick in the air, the unspoken anticipation of what might happen next.
Jakeson's smirk twisted into a grin as he reached down, grabbing Lucas by the collar to haul him up. Before he could pull Lucas to his feet, however, a firm hand clasped around his wrist, halting his movement.
"That's enough, Jakeson," Blake said sharply, his voice cutting through the silence. "He's had enough."
Jakeson's green eyes flicked up in surprise, then narrowed into a sneer as he met Blake's gaze. He looked Blake up and down, clearly not expecting anyone to intervene. "Where did you come from, Blake?" Jakeson drawled mockingly, twisting his wrist slightly but finding Blake's grip unyielding. "You want to take his place as my punching bag, huh?"
Blake's expression hardened, his usual calm replaced with a simmering anger. He stepped closer, tightening his hold on Jakeson's wrist. "I think he's injured," Blake retorted, his voice low and laced with warning. "Don't be more of a moron than you already are."
The room felt like it was holding its breath, students watching the standoff unfold. Jakeson's grin faltered for a moment, and a flicker of irritation crossed his face. It was clear that he wasn't used to anyone standing up to him, especially not Blake.
Well, well, well,Jakeson chuckled darkly, the amusement in his voice dripping with menace before Blake could react, Jakeson moved with surprising speed, his hand shooting out to seize Blake by the neck.
In one swift motion, Jakeson tossed Blake into the classroom, sending him sprawling onto the cold floor with a hard thud. As Blake tried to regain his footing, Jakeson followed up with a sharp, brutal kick to his groin. Blake gasped, his body jerking with the impact as pain surged through him. He barely managed to stay upright, his vision blurring for a moment from the sudden wave of discomfort.
Jakeson loomed over him, a smug smirk still plastered on his face. Don't think your nerdy ass will save you, Blake Brooks, he sneered, stepping closer with a threatening, measured pace. His green eyes burned with contempt, his body ready to strike again if Blake made a move.
The room remained eerily silent, every student watching in tense silence. Blake's breath came in shallow gasps, but despite the pain, he pushed himself up.
Blake, though still hurting from the kick to the groin, couldn't help but smirk through the pain. His fingers grazed the small packet of onions he'd slipped into Jakeson's blazer earlier. He had anticipated this moment,the moment Jakeson's ego would get the best of him.
"At least my nerdy ass comes in handy," Blake muttered under his breath, his voice strained, but satisfied.
Jakeson, now red in the face, growled in frustration as another wave of sneezing hit him. "You !" he started, but before he could finish, the onions took full effect. His eyes watered as the overwhelming scent filled his nose with a snarl, he tried to charge at Blake, but the constant sneezing halted his every move.
"Huh-choo! Huh-choo!" Jakeson sneezed, the force of it nearly sending him stumbling backward. His face twisted in frustration as he reached up to his nose, desperately trying to rid himself of the allergenic onslaught. "What the hell ?"
Blake, barely able to stand straight, managed to chuckle, his pain momentarily forgotten. "You think I wouldn't come prepared?"
Another violent sneeze erupted from Jakeson, causing him to falter. He glared at Blake, his temper boiling over. "Son of ..AH .CHOO!" He wiped his nose, still unable to stop the sneezing, his anger giving way to his desperate need to escape the uncomfortable situation.
With a final, exasperated sneeze, Jakeson spun on his heel, his navy blue blazer flapping behind him as he stormed off, each sneeze louder than the last. "I'm going to the clinic!" he bellowed as he fled, leaving a trail of sniffles and frustration in his wake.
Blake, wincing from the lingering pain in his abdomen, allowed himself a moment of victory. The tension in the room broke as the class watched, some laughing, others just relieved the confrontation was over. As the door slammed behind Jakeson, the classroom buzzed with whispers.
Blake straightened up, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, his eyes scanning the room. The adrenaline from the confrontation was still rushing through him, but now, there was a strange sense of satisfaction in knowing that, for once, he had outsmarted the class bully....