CHAPTER 103: THE BULLYING

Another day at AMSO headquarters began early.

The sun was barely rising when the blaring training sirens echoed across the facility. The Class 4 recruits, barely adjusted to their new routines, rushed out in uniform toward the outdoor compound for morning drills.

Theo was among them, stretching quietly as his teammates jogged past. Unlike the others, his expression was calm, composed, almost unreadable. He wasn’t sore from yesterday’s evaluations, and if anything, the energy in his body felt restrained, like a beast calmly pacing behind locked bars.

He didn’t need to try hard but he still moved in sync, doing the routines like everyone else. Push-ups, planks, resistance runs. The officers supervising barked orders and watched from afar.

That’s when Ben returned...

Not just with words this time but with a plan.

A group of four recruits, mostly younger and timid-looking guys, kept glancing over at Theo as they lined up beside him in the relay run station. It was a basic sprint-and-tag setup across obstacle courses. What made it dangerous was the subtle modifications someone had made.

One of the rope ladders had been frayed, almost cut through.

Theo noticed it immediately.

"You’re up next," one of the recruits said behind him, trying to sound casual but his voice betrayed him... too eager, too nervous.

Ben sat on a low bench near the track, arms crossed, talking with a couple of Class 3 recruits. He grinned at the sight of Theo stepping into the start line, then casually said just loud enough for a few to hear.

"Hope you didn’t forget all that fat from before. That ladder might cry if you’re still hiding extra weight under that uniform."

Snickers echoed.

Theo said nothing.

He took off at the signal, quick, efficient strides, and scaled the first few obstacles with practiced ease. When he reached the frayed rope ladder, he paused for a heartbeat. He could bypass it entirely with a jump or flip. But he didn’t.

He climbed it. Slowly. Carefully.

Letting it creak and groan with every step, as if playing along.

’Seriously? That man hasn’t changed at all,’ he complained in annoyance. Ben seemed born to enjoy watching him suffer but that wouldn’t happen anymore. He wondered what approach he should take to finally make Ben leave him alone.

A few watching Class 4 recruits flinched when the ladder swayed then gasped when Theo purposely jumped down from the middle height and rolled smoothly on the ground like nothing happened.

He jogged past the finish, sweat barely forming on his brow.

One of the instructors raised a brow. "Efficient. But next time, don’t take risks if you notice faulty gear."

Theo nodded. "Noted, sir."

Back in line, the four recruits who were told to "handle" him looked visibly shaken. Ben stood, walking past and clapping a hand to Theo’s back a little too hard.

"Impressive. I almost thought you’d cry again like in high school," he whispered. "Still hiding behind that fake toughness, huh?"

Theo didn’t flinch.

"Still hiding behind weaker guys to do your dirty work, Ben?"

Ben’s smile cracked for a second.

Before anything more could be said, the whistle blew for group combat training.

"Pair up!" barked the drill commander.

By some "coincidence," Ben ended up facing Theo.

And here, the bullying got sneakier.

Ben threw his hits with enough strength to bruise but not enough to get flagged by the instructor. Subtle elbows, slaps masked as strikes, intentional stumbles to make Theo look clumsy.

"Hold your stance properly," one officer shouted at Theo.

Theo’s jaw clenched.

He didn’t fight back. He just absorbed.

Again and again.

Then finally, on the fourth round of takedowns, Ben went for a cheap knee.

Theo caught it.

Fast.

Too fast.

The silence was immediate.

Everyone blinked as Theo held Ben’s leg mid-air, his grip strong, unwavering. Ben’s smirk faded completely when Theo didn’t release.

He leaned in close.

"If I wanted to break you," Theo murmured, "I’d do it now."

He let go. Ben stumbled back.

"Back in line!" the instructor barked. "You," the instructor pointed at him. "Less showing off next time."

Theo gave a light nod.

But the crowd had seen enough. Whispers started. Those who once giggled at Ben’s comments now stared differently.

And Lexa, watching quietly from the command balcony, narrowed her eyes.

’He’s still holding back...’ she thought, observing Theo’s movements with a trained gaze.

Her eyes shifted briefly to the man he’d just taken down... Ben.

She remembered him all too well.

She was the one who handled his case before - him and his little gang of entitled brats. The day they came in, filing a complaint like they were victims. She hadn’t even needed ten minutes of questioning before she saw right through them.

They claimed they were only trying to "protect Beatrice Smith from being harassed by Theodore Luther." A ridiculous excuse to justify ganging up on someone.

Their statements didn’t even line up properly. One said Theo threw the first punch. Another said Beatrice screamed for help, except surveillance showed otherwise. Beatrice had stepped between them.

They were lying. But Ben came from money. Influence. His father was a big shot, and unfortunately, Lexa’s superior at the time happened to be good friends with the man.

She clenched her jaw. ’I still remember how much it sucked having to play along.’

Then things spiraled. They got a call in the middle of handling the report about a man standing on the ledge of Metro Doctors Hospital, threatening to jump.

Lexa’s heart had dropped when she heard the name. Theodore Luther. The same man Ben’s father wanted arrested.

It was Lexa’s grandfather, retired Chief Spears, who managed to convince Theo to step back from that edge.

But before she could even reach him... the meteorite hit.

The impact knocked them all down, and Theo, he fell from the rooftop together with her.

And here he was. Stronger. More composed. Still quiet... but clearly no longer someone anyone could just push around.

Lexa exhaled slowly, arms crossed.

’So much for trying to stay under the radar, Theo.’