In a world overflowing with technology, where sharing anything was just a tap away, keeping secrets had become nearly impossible.
The videos, yes, multiple, capturing the now-infamous classroom incident were circulating like wildfire. Shot from different angles, some with commentary, others with stunned silence, they were being passed from phone to phone, screen to screen.
By the end of the day, there wasn't a single student in the entire school who didn't know what had gone down. Whether they'd watched it firsthand or seen it through shaky footage and gasps in the hallways, everyone had seen. The event had quickly earned its name too—The Mad Max Incident.
Without the videos, most probably wouldn't have even believed it. The idea that Max, the quiet, awkward guy who barely drew attention, could have done something so extreme... it would've sounded like some ridiculous rumor made up for attention. But the footage didn't lie.
And the video hadn't just stayed among the regular students, either.
Outside, down a few cracked stairs that led away from the rusted metal cage beside the gym hall, Dipter was sitting casually with his legs stretched out. His phone was tilted sideways, and his sharp eyes were locked onto the screen as he watched the entire thing unfold for the third—or maybe fourth—time.
"Isn't this, like, a huge problem?" Jay asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the fence nearby. He had already seen the video, just like the rest of them. They all had. But Dipter? Dipter was replaying it, again and again, face unreadable.
"Yeah, I mean, that's our target, right?" Snide chimed in, his voice unusually high with concern. "Looks like the guy's lost it. Ko and the others must've really messed him up."
Still, Dipter said nothing. Not a word. Not a smirk.
He waited until the video ended one more time before finally lowering his phone and slipping it back into his pocket with slow precision. Only then did he glance up, his face unreadable, eyes dark with thought.
"Who would've thought," Dipter muttered, still brushing the dust off his pants as he stood up, "that the whole time he actually could fight back. And from the looks of it, he's been in more than a few fights before."
"Not just fights," Snide added, shaking his head. "Did you see what he did? That wasn't some outburst or fluke. He knew exactly what he was doing."
"Yeah," Jay said. "And he didn't hesitate, not even for a second."
Dipter's gaze narrowed slightly, lost in thought. "Either he's done this before… or there's something seriously wrong going on in that head of his."
Jay stepped forward, speaking in a quieter tone. "Do you want us to handle it? I think it'd be better than letting this get out of control. Better than the other option."
But Dipter simply waved him off. "No. Leave it."
"You sure?"
"He's already done the worst thing he could've done," Dipter said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Reacting like this? Going full Mad Max in front of the whole school? That's his own downfall. He's finished. He just doesn't know it yet."
****
The fallout from the classroom incident came swiftly.
Every student involved, or even present, was called in for questioning. Two classrooms had been converted into temporary interview rooms, where teachers tried to piece together the chaos. Everyone had a different angle, a different detail to add, and the teachers were desperate to form a full picture of what had actually happened.
Meanwhile, in the infirmary, the school nurse did her best to tend to the bruises, bloody noses, and busted lips. Her tray was already lined with ice packs and cotton swabs soaked in antiseptic. The air reeked of alcohol and tension.
But Max?
He was questioned in a room all on his own.
It wasn't just because he'd been at the center of the storm. It was because of what he'd done, what everyone saw him do. The staff didn't want to risk anything escalating, especially not with the same kids involved. Whatever had happened in that room, they couldn't let it happen again.
Max had given his version of the story as clearly as he could. He explained that it all started when he stood up for himself, after being provoked, after the endless bullying. He said he only hit back once… but that was all it took. The entire class turned on him. From that moment on, it became him against everyone else.
He told them he did what he had to.
That he had no choice.
But even as the words left his mouth, Max knew how they would sound to the people on the other side of the desk. There wasn't a better explanation he could offer, not one that would make any of this easier to swallow.
Now, he sat alone in a classroom, the tension pressing down like a weight on his shoulders.
'They might expel me for this…' Max thought, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. 'But honestly, that wouldn't be the worst outcome. I already planned on getting out of here eventually.'
His mind churned with thoughts of Dipter, the real target, the one orchestrating things behind the scenes. 'There are other ways to get to him. Other ways to find the information I need…'
And yet, one thing kept gnawing at the back of his mind.
If he was expelled, if this really was how it all ended, then why had the real Max Stern stayed through all of this? Why hadn't he used the money? Why suffer through so much when there were options? None of it made sense.
Just then, the silence was broken. The classroom door slid open, and standing there was Mr. Macanzie, his homeroom teacher. The man's face was unreadable.
"Come on, Max," he said. "We're heading to the principal's office."
Max stood without saying a word, quietly following behind. The hallway felt long, the walls pressing in. When they arrived at the principal's office, Max was immediately taken aback.
The room was luxurious, two leather sofas, a massive polished desk, tall windows with expensive-looking curtains, and walls adorned with framed awards and artwork. Everything looked like it cost more than most people made in a year.
'This is a public school, right?' Max thought as he sat down across from the principal. 'Do principals here really get paid this well?'
Sitting across from Max was a rather short man dressed in a pinstripe suit. His balding head had clearly been carefully styled, his remaining hair slicked back in a failed attempt to cover it up. Behind him, Mr. Macanzie stood silently, now positioned behind the principal like some looming presence.
"Max!" the principal barked, his voice sharp and full of reprimand. "Do you even realize how serious your actions were today?"
Max didn't respond. He could tell that the principal wasn't looking for an answer anyway, he was just getting started.
"The school is already in a fragile state," the principal continued. "With the recent tragedy and everything surrounding it, we've been walking on thin ice. And now this happens. You single-handedly turned the classroom into a war zone!"
His voice rose in frustration as he leaned forward.
"Do you know what kind of mess this is going to create? The parents of those students are furious. Some are already talking about pressing charges. Hospital bills will have to be covered. And because of the severity of what happened, the police will have no choice but to get involved."
Most students in Max's position would have gone quiet at those words. The fear of legal trouble, police involvement, and the looming threat of expulsion would have been enough to silence anyone.
But not Max.
Not someone who had already faced fear in much darker places. He raised his eyes slowly and looked directly at the principal.
"So now you get involved?" Max said, his voice calm but cutting. "Tell me something, Mr. Macanzie…"
He turned slightly to look over his shoulder at the teacher standing behind.
"What's different this time, compared to everything that happened before?"
"You must have heard it," Max said, his voice steady but full of restrained fury. "Or maybe you saw it yourself, the countless times I was bullied. The times Sam was bullied. The bruises on our bodies. The names scrawled across our desks like we weren't even human. It was all right there in front of you."
He leaned forward now, not yelling, but speaking with a sharp intensity that pierced the room.
"But it wasn't your problem, was it? So long as no one made a scene, you could pretend it didn't exist. Sweep it under the rug. Wipe your hands clean because it wasn't on paper, because no one reported it in the right way."
His fists clenched at his sides, trembling slightly.
"This school did nothing for Sam. Did nothing for me. And now, the second I take things into my own hands, I'm the one being punished? I'm the one being threatened?"
He shook his head in disbelief.
Max had always hated the system, especially the school system. The way it turned a blind eye. The way it protected those in control and silenced those who suffered.
"Max, what are you saying?" Mr. Macanzie finally spoke up, his voice edged with concern. "We've gathered countless testimonies from the students. Every single one of them said the same thing, that you went crazy. That you attacked your classmates unprovoked. They're the ones who ended up hurt."
Max wasn't surprised. Of course they'd stick together. It was their word against his. A united class against a single outcast. That much, he had already expected.
But what made Max's blood truly boil, what caused the vein on his forehead to throb, was the name Sam. Or rather, the absence of it.
Not once had the teacher brought him up. As if he never existed. As if what had happened to Sam had nothing to do with any of this. And that, more than anything, lit the fire in Max's chest.
"What the principal said earlier is important, Max," Mr. Macanzie continued, his voice colder now, more deliberate. "The police are getting involved. And since this incident happened so soon after what recently occurred…"
He paused, as if savoring the moment.
"I've decided to tell them the truth. That you, Max Smith, were the one constantly bullying Sam Churn."
Max's heart dropped. A deep, sinking feeling pulled at his chest as the words hit him.
For a split second, he caught it, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of both the principal's and Mr. Macanzie's lips. Subtle, but unmistakable.
They weren't shocked. They weren't confused. They were expecting this.
'No…' Max thought, his eyes narrowing. Are they in on this? The whole damn thing?
He clenched his fists tightly under the desk, forcing himself not to explode.