November 29, Neelvan 11:59 am
Sumedh walked down the corridor, hands in his pockets, his schoolbag slung over one shoulder. The hallway lights flickered as always — nothing had changed.
> "Another attack."
"Another territory breach. Another city ruined. I saw it all on the news."
"Same words. Same explosions. Same dead faces."
"But it's not like i can help it, not right now."
He stared at the tiled floor beneath him — his feet moving, but his thoughts stuck elsewhere.
> "I still have to go to class."
"Still have to prepare. Still have to chase a dream that wasn't even mine to begin with."
He reached the familiar staircase and climbed slowly, the sound of his shoes echoing up the empty school. Every step heavier than the last.
> "There used to be seven of us."
"Same age. Same books. Same fears."
"All dreaming about military entrance, about being Swar users, about surviving."
He walked past the bulletin board — torn timetables and crumpled notices fluttered in the breeze of a nearby fan.
> "They started leaving, one by one. Some couldn't take the pressure. Some just disappeared. Others weren't good enough."
"Yesterday... there was still one more. At least one more beside me."
He stopped at the classroom door. His hand rested on the chipped wooden handle.
> "Today…"
He opened it.
The room was empty. Dust danced in the air. The bench beside his — the one that always had a notebook and a humming student — was silent. No bag. No chair scraped out. Nothing.
> "Now I am."
Sumedh didn't move. He stared at the vacant seat for a few seconds. Then at his own.
Footsteps echoed behind him. A calm voice followed.
Teacher: "You're allowed to come in. Sit."
Sumedh quietly stepped in and took his place. Just him now. Just th
e silence. Just the grind.
---
End of chapter 4: The last student
© 2025 Parth Bhelekar. All rights reserved.
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