It's basic courtesy to eat what you are given and overhyping

The Valor dining room was a fried-chicken-and-spaghetti-fueled circus, buckets of crispy drumsticks and wings stacked high beside steaming bowls of homemade marinara-soaked pasta, with a lone bowl of roasted turnips for Master Thorne. The TV blared Cage of Infinity's over-the-top fight scenes, mixing with teenage shouts, Thorne's turnip-chomping grumbles, and Augustus, the 1-year-old baby brother, babbling "dada" in his highchair, flinging chicken bits like a tiny warlord. The summer night outside was thick, fireflies buzzing through the windows. Alexander slumped in his chair, Calm Mirror wobbling against the chaos of Ellie, Nana, Lila, Kai, Mira, Jaden, Sophie, Theo, tearing into chicken and twirling spaghetti. This is a circus with a chicken addict dad and a chicken-chucking baby. One more cheer, and I'm sprinting to the dojo, he thought, chomping a drumstick. Why's everyone so loud? I'm just trying to survive this table.

Ellie, perched like a gremlin queen, elbowed Alexander, blue eyes glinting with mischief. "Yo, big bro." Time to roast this ninja turtle into next week, she thought, smirking. He's all serious, but I'm gonna make him squirm.

Alexander sighed, Instinct Engine pinging her incoming jab. "What now, gremlin?" She's got that evil grin, and I'm dodging Augustus's chicken missiles, he thought, snagging a flying crumb. This kid's gonna roast me worse than Thorne's turnips.

"The dojo's your second house, right? You're basically living there, chowing on Thorne's nasty turnips or whatever," Ellie said, tossing a chicken bone, which he caught mid-air. "Also, I scarfed some fried chicken and spaghetti earlier today when Mom ordered, and I'm still gonna destroy this table!" He's so busted. I crushed that garage basketball game, and now it's food round two, she thought, eyeing the drumsticks.

The dojo's my safe haven, where no one calls me trash, Alexander thought, dusty floor and Thorne's yells grounding him. Ellie was eating so much food earlier and hooping in the garage? She's a food vacuum with a jump shot! "Big eater gremlin," he muttered, smirking, twirling spaghetti. She'll out-eat Bennick and steal Augustus's chicken stash.

Ellie cackled, snatching a wing and a heap of pasta. "Gremlin? I'm a food champ! Watch me dominate!" He's toast when I grab the last drumstick, she thought, winking at Augustus, who babbled, "Dada!" and chucked a chicken bit.

Bennick, scarfing chicken and pasta, leaned forward, grinning at Ellie. "You don't know, girl! Those turnips are nightmares for me and Alexander! Scrub Thorne's floors? I'd rather fight his turnips in a cage match! That bathroom's a war zone, old man!" His dojo's hell, pipes screaming louder than his yelling, he thought.

Master Thorne snorted, chomping a turnip between bites of chicken and spaghetti. "A war zone? You're softer than my turnips, Galorem! My dojo's a palace compared to your whining!" This fool's mouth is bigger than my dojo's leaks, he thought, glaring. "Why'd you crash my dojo for two months, loud mouth? Scared of something?"

Bennick laughed, tossing a chicken bone. "Why? My little sister's a tyrant! She's 14, same as Alexander, top academic all through elementary, smarter than me. I lost a ton gambling, and she kicked me out! Mom and Dad stayed neutral, still love me, but that kid's the worst!" She's a brainiac dictator, and I'm broke from cards, he thought, grabbing pasta. "Your dojo's a maniac house, but it beat her wrath!"

Alexander's eyes widened slightly, Instinct Engine buzzing. Bennick's gambling? My big bro figure, tossing cash on cards like it's chicken bones? That's wild, but kinda… lame. He's a beast in the dojo, but betting 'til he's broke? Gotta step up, man, he thought, twirling spaghetti.

Thorne snorted, turnip crumbs flying, munching a wing. "Tyrant sister? She'd eat my turnips and spit 'em out. You're softer than city bread, Galorem!" This fool's running from a teenager? Pathetic, he thought. "My dojo's tougher than your Azure Style and her brain combined!"

Alexander twirled his spaghetti, eyeing Thorne's plate, Instinct Engine pinging. This geezer's obsessed with turnips, so why's he scarfing chicken and spaghetti like it's his last meal? he thought, smirking. "Yo, Master Thorne, what's with you eating our chicken and spaghetti? I thought turnips were your whole deal." Let's see if the old man chokes on his own logic, he thought, biting a drumstick.

Thorne's eyes narrowed, turnip pausing mid-crunch, cane tapping the table. "It's basic courtesy, boy! And it's because it's your parents—if it were anyone else, I would have insulted them on the spot and annihilated their lives!" This dust bunny thinks he can question my plate? I'd eat turnips in a cage match, but Grace's cooking gets a pass, he thought, snarling, shoving a wing in his mouth.

Alexander's Calm Mirror flickered, heart thumping. Courtesy? He'd annihilate lives over a drumstick? This geezer's unhinged, and I'm stuck training with him, he thought, swallowing hard. Thorne's gonna make me scrub the dojo floor for this. Why'd I open my mouth? I'm toast. He shoved spaghetti in his face, avoiding Thorne's glare.

Grace glanced at Augustus, smiling, wiping grease from his face. My baby's a chaotic king with those curls, and this house is a zoo, she thought.

The door creaked open, and Arthur and Catherine Thorne stumbled in, bags in hand, looking frazzled after Master Thorne's call minutes ago. Arthur raised a hand, grinning sheepishly. "I'm Arthur Thorne, Master Thorne's son. Sorry we're late, Dad's phone call caught us in traffic hell!" Dad's gonna chew us out worse than his turnips, but this food smells epic, he thought. Catherine nodded, brushing back her hair. "And I'm Catherine Thorne, Nana's mom. Thrilled to meet you all, even if we're tardy!" Dad's turnip obsession is scarier than traffic, but Nana's here, so it's worth it, she thought.

Grace bustled over, beaming. "I'm Grace Valor, and this is my husband Aaron, our son Alexander, daughter Ellie, and little Augustus. So glad you made it, Arthur, Catherine! Grab some chicken and spaghetti, but don't touch Thorne's turnips!" Thorne's yelling, Augustus is a mess, but this chaos is my kingdom, she thought, handing out plates.

Thorne roared, chomping a turnip. "Minutes ago, I called you dust bunnies, and you still crawl in late? Chicken and pasta's half gone!" My kin, slower than my turnips, dragging in like city slugs, he thought, glaring.

Alexander glanced at Arthur, twirling spaghetti. Having Master Thorne as a father-in-law must be tiring, even for a guy like Arthur, he thought, biting a drumstick. That old geezer's yelling and Dad's intimidating aura? I'd need a vacation.

Thorne's eyes went bloodshot, turnip pausing mid-crunch. "What did you say, boy?" This dust bunny's got some nerve, mouthing off in his head! he thought, glaring at Alexander.

Alexander choked on his fried chicken, coughing, sweat beading on his forehead. "What… I don't know, old man!" How did this old geezer hear my thoughts? Is he an alien?! he thought, heart racing. I'm doomed, caught by the turnip overlord!

Thorne leaned forward, voice low and menacing. "I'll tolerate that disrespect since your parents are here, boy. Be thankful and careful next time. When you train again, I'm doubling the intensity!" This kid's gonna sweat for that mouth, dust bunny or not, he thought, crunching his turnip.

Alexander gulped, wiping sweat. It's over… this old geezer's gonna exhaust me to death! he thought, shoving spaghetti in his mouth. Why'd I think that? Thorne's gonna bury me in training!

The TV roared as the movie's hero landed a slow-motion punch, crowd cheering in cheesy surround sound. Nana, slurping spaghetti and gnawing a drumstick, waved a chicken wing like a scepter. "This Boltwood flick's fake as hell! But Alexander? Those blue eyes, blonde hair, that physique? So handsome, it's unfair!" He's a heartbreaker. Me and Alex would be legendary when I hit Raging Storm High School tomorrow, she thought, smirking. Lila nodded, starry-eyed, grabbing a wing and pasta. "Right? His face is like a movie star's, and that build? Nana, you two are perfect!" He's too good-looking, it's unfair, she thought. Sophie giggled, tossing a bone. "Nana and Alexander forever! Those eyes and muscles? Dojo king!" They're a power couple already, she thought.

Arthur smiled, watching Nana's enthusiasm. "Nana and Alexander, huh? That kid's charm and looks are a knockout. I'm all for it!" My girl's got fire heading to Raging Storm High School tomorrow, and Alex is a gem. They'd rule the dojo, he thought, eating spaghetti. Catherine nodded, grabbing a wing. "They're adorable together! Alexander's handsome face seals it." Nana's spark and his calm vibe? Perfect match, she thought.

Alexander's cheeks burned, Calm Mirror cracking. Shipping me with Nana and hyping my face? I'm dodging punches, not starring in a rom-com! he thought, sinking lower, chomping spaghetti. My looks are gonna bury me before Thorne's training does.

Bennick groaned, rubbing his temples, eating chicken and pasta. "Can you chill, kids? Why's everyone obsessed with Alexander's pretty face? My head's splitting!" Nana's on his eyes, Lila's on his hair, Sophie's on his muscles. I'm fighting tomorrow, and these headaches are worse than my sister's lectures! he thought, glaring at Nana.

Thorne crunched a turnip, alternating with a wing and pasta. "Movie's garbage. Alexander's handsomeness? Overhyped. My dojo's where he's worth a damn." Kid's got grit, not just a pretty face, he thought, smirking.

The door burst open, and Alexander's four friends—Clark, David, Kent, Allan—stormed in, eyes wide with hype. Clark, the fattest, huffed, red-faced. "Yo, Alexander! Bennick's fighting the Butcher tomorrow, Apex Predator championship!" Bennick versus that bone-smasher? My mind's blown! he thought. David, tallest and skinny, loomed over. "It's gonna be nuts! Butcher's a monster!" Alex must be hyped as hell, he thought. Kent, the normal one, nodded. "No rules, total chaos!" Bennick's a legend, but Butcher's terrifying, he thought. Allan, adjusting his glasses, grinned. "You hyped, Alex?" He's gotta be freaking out, he thought.

Their jaws dropped, spotting Bennick casually munching chicken and spaghetti. Clark gasped. "Bennick Galorem? You're just… eating here?" Azure Style champ, chilling with pasta? I'm losing it, he thought. David blinked. "No way, you're right there!" I'm fangirling harder than at a tournament, he thought. Kent stammered. "This is unreal. Fighting the Butcher?" He's so chill, it's spooky, he thought. Allan pushed up his glasses. "Dude, you're a legend!" Bennick's eating like it's no big deal? Insane, he thought.

Then their eyes popped, noticing Alexander—taller, leaner, calm radiating strength, his handsome face glowing. Clark nudged him. "Alex, you're jacked! Those blue eyes, blonde hair, that physique? So handsome, man, you're a beast at 14!" He's a whole new guy, like a superhero. No clue how strong he is, but he looks badass, he thought. David grinned. "You're taller than me! That calm vibe and face? Insane!" He's a ninja model now. Bet he's still scrawny in a fight, but I'll cheer anyway, he thought. Kent laughed. "Not scrawny anymore. That handsome face is killing it!" I'm jealous as hell, but is he strong? Gotta hype my boy, he thought. Allan adjusted his glasses. "Your focus and looks are unreal, Alex. What's the secret?" Prodigy with a movie-star face. No idea if he's got skills, but I'm rooting for him, he thought.

Clark scratched his head, voice low. "Sorry we haven't been around, Alex. Families had us training like maniacs for four months. Messaged you for basketball first two months of summer, but you didn't reply." He's a stud now, and we ghosted him. Hope he's not mad, he thought. David nodded. "Missed you, dude." Thought he ditched us, but he's killing the glow-up. Still our boy, he thought. Kent sighed. "Our bad for not checking in." Kid's a star now, even if he's still weak in a fight, he thought. Allan pushed up his glasses. "You good, Alex?" He's transformed, but is he dojo-ready? I'm hyping him anyway, he thought.

Alexander's smirk hid guilt. I forgot my phone and friends? Calm Mirror and Instinct Engine ate my brain, he thought, biting a drumstick. Four months in the dojo, ghosting my crew? I'm the worst. Augustus probably texts better. "No worries, guys. Been training. Didn't mean to ghost." They're hyping my face, but social overload's my real fight.

Bennick waved a wing, grinning, slurping pasta. "Yeah, it's me. Chill, kids, it's just dinner." These kids are losing it, and my headache's worse than my sister's lectures, he thought. Alexander smirked. My friends are freaking out, and I'm dodging chicken missiles.

Allan leaned closer, eyes wide behind his glasses, voice dropping. "That's that famous Devan Thorne, Master Thorne… so it's true." The legend himself, yelling about turnips? His rep's wild, and now he's got Alex? Unreal, he thought, clutching a wing.

Alexander froze, spaghetti half-twirled, Instinct Engine buzzing. Famous for bad reputation you mean. Thorne's a turnip-chomping geezer, what's Allan on about? he thought, frowning. "True what now?"

Allan pulled out his phone, scrolling fast, a smirk creeping up. "The whole city knows, Alexander, heck, probably other cities. You're on social media—everyone's making fun of you, memes and all that!" Kid's clueless, but he's viral for all the wrong reasons, he thought. He shoved the phone in Alexander's face, showing a post: Alexander's face outside Thorne's dojo, titled "The greatest fool takes another fool student lol". Comments piled up—"Thorne's training a loser kid?", "Beyonider style? More like folly style", "Turnip master and his scrawny pupil, lol!" Allan shook his head. "They talk a lot of shit, Alexander, but they don't have the guts to say it in front of you and Master Thorne…"

Alexander's Calm Mirror cracked, heart pounding, blue eyes narrowing at the screen. Memes? Me and Thorne, fools? I was trash once, but this? They're cowards hiding behind screens, he thought, jaw tight. I'll make them choke on those words with these hands.

Thorne overheard, turnip pausing mid-crunch, bloodshot eyes blazing. "Hah! These little dusty bunnies are afraid to stand in front of me and endure ten thousand insults!" Punks mocking my dojo on their phones? I'd roast 'em till they cry for their mamas, he thought, slamming his cane down, smirking.

Kent nudged Alexander, grinning, munching spaghetti. "Yo, Alex, what style you grinding in at Bearfight tomorrow?" Kid's jacked, gotta be something wild, he thought, tossing a bone.

Allan adjusted his glasses, smirking. "It's obviously that Beyonider Style, dude." Alex's calm vibe screams Beyonider—Calm eyes, Amazing Physique, no way he's switching to Bull or Azure, he thought, grabbing a wing.

Augustus babbled, "Dada!" smacking his highchair, tossing a chicken bit. Grace laughed, wiping his face. "Augustus, no chicken wars! Save some for us!" My baby's chaos is too cute, she thought.

Aaron, leaning against the wall, blue eyes heavy with an intimidating aura, nodded at the newcomers, eating a drumstick and pasta. My kids have loyal allies. That's my legacy, he thought. Arthur eyed Aaron, squinting. That man's a grandmaster fighter, no doubt. Why's he here, not dominating championships? he thought, chewing spaghetti. He's got an aura like a storm.

Aaron's eyes flicked to Thorne briefly, a shadow crossing his face as the TV blared. Something's off. I need to clear the air before tomorrow, he thought, setting down his drumstick.

Kai snorted at the TV, chomping chicken. "That punch? I'd block it with my face and win." This movie's weak, but I'd school that hero, he thought. Sophie giggled, tossing a bone. "Forget the movie, Alexander's handsome face could win any fight! Those blue eyes!" He's a total hero, she thought.

"Win a fight?" Thorne scoffed, crunching a turnip and wing. "I'd outlast you loudmouths. Movie's got no guts, like your sparring." These kids are softer than my turnips, he thought. I'd pay to see them face Augustus in a cage match.

As the movie hit a cheesy cage fight, Aaron slipped from the wall, voice slicing through. "Bennick, Master Thorne, Arthur, talk outside?" His tone was calm, but his intimidating aura flickered, making Alexander's spine tingle. Dad's got that intense vibe again. I don't know why, but it's just how he is, he thought, brushing it off.

Bennick frowned, Thorne shrugged, clutching a turnip, and Arthur nodded, curious. "Fine, Mr. Aaron. Better not be about your chicken obsession," Thorne said. If this is about fried chicken, I'm out, he thought. Arthur followed, thinking, What's this guy hiding? That aura's no joke. They headed a block away to a secluded alley, the house's glow a speck, summer night swallowing their words with cricket chirps and a streetlight's hum. Fireflies blinked, air thick, ensuring no one, not even Alexander, heard a whisper.

Aaron leaned against a graffitied wall, handsome face shadowed, blue eyes icy. Bennick stood wary, Thorne leaned on his cane, turnip in hand, Arthur watched closely. "I owe you an apology, Mr. Bennick," Aaron said, voice low, cutting the muggy air. "That aura earlier, I didn't mean to intimidate you."

Bennick waved a hand, grin tight. "No worries, man. But that vibe? You're a grandmaster, no question!" His aura could scare a bear, and my headache's screaming, he thought.

Thorne crunched his turnip, unimpressed. "I've seen grandmasters, befriended 'em. You think Aaron's light show scares me? Turnips are tougher!" He's hiding something big, and I know what it is, he thought.

Arthur frowned, watching Aaron. "You're no ordinary fighter, Aaron. Why aren't you in the championships, dominating like a grandmaster should?" This guy's aura screams legend. What's his deal? he thought.

Aaron's gaze darkened, aura surging briefly, a cold wave that made Bennick step back and Thorne's turnip pause mid-bite. "First let me talk about my son's past. His elementary years were brutal. Teachers, students, even the principal, praised his smarts, top grades, but mocked him for basic skills. Couldn't punch, couldn't run. Kids made him the hot topic, mocking to his face or whispering behind him. Only thing saving him was their honor code; Voxx: hurting a weakling's a disgrace, their masters and families drilled that in. They're all about proving their styles are supreme, not bullying lesser kids."

Bennick's jaw dropped, eyes wide. Kid got roasted that bad? No wonder he's got that quiet fire, he thought. Thorne chewed his turnip slowly, nodding. Explains the dust bunny's grit. Mocked but unbroken, he thought. Arthur's eyes softened, glancing toward the house. That's why Alex is so driven. Poor kid, he thought.

Aaron continued, voice low. "Thank you all. You've done what I never could. Alexander's calmer, more confident. I know arena fighting, brutal kills, but teaching calm? Beyond me."

Thorne chewed his turnip, nodding. "For what? I yell at the kid. He's stubborn, doesn't break." Kid's got grit, more than this aura-slinging dad, he thought.

Bennick's eyes lit up. "Hold up, Aaron. That past—Alex took all that heat and still trains like a beast?" He's tougher than my sister's lectures, he thought.

Arthur leaned in, curious. "Yeah, Aaron. That's rough. How'd he get through it?" Kid's got his dad's fire, but that's a heavy load, he thought.

Aaron's smile was cold, aura chilling the air. "His four friends—Clark, David, Kent, Allan—kept the worst at bay. Nobody touched him, thanks to that honor code, but if they had…" His aura roared, freezing the group. "I'd erase a few faces from this planet."

Bennick's jaw dropped, Thorne's turnip clattered to the pavement, Arthur's eyes widened. "You'd kill kids?" Bennick asked, half-laughing, half-nervous. He's a death threat on legs. Glad he's on our side, he thought.

Thorne grinned, retrieving his turnip. "Intense, huh? So what's your style, Aaron? All this aura, what's the deal?" Let's see what this guy's made of, he thought.

Arthur nodded, arms crossed. "Yeah, Aaron. You're no regular fighter. What's your story?" He's a grandmaster hiding in plain sight, he thought.

Aaron's smile was thin, voice low. "You really want to know?" He paused, aura chilling the air. "I'm from Demon Country, Demovalorek, ruled by the Democalorek Demon Clan, the most brutal fighters alive. I was the patriarch's son, a martial god. Their best arena fighter, Peak Stage Grandmaster, called the Demon Mask. Wore it since I was a kid, my mother's gift. Not even my father knew my face. I fled after her death, an incurable disease."

Bennick's eyes widened, heart pounding. Demon Country? He's the Demon Mask? No way, that's an arena legend, one of the best grandmasters to live! he thought, nearly dropping. Thorne's face paled, turnip in hand. Demon Mask, right here? I'm not quite shocked, but damn, it's real, he thought. Arthur froze, jaw tight. Demon Mask? That's the legend? He's hiding as a dad? he thought.

Bennick stammered. "We're standing with the Demon Mask? The guy who crushed arenas?" My head's splitting, and I'm facing a myth? I'm done, he thought.

Thorne's eyes narrowed, voice low, turnip retrieved. "No damn way. Demon Mask was a ghost, unbeatable, kids traded stories. You're him?" This family man made other Peak Stage Grandmasters flinch? My turnips are shaking, he thought.

Arthur shook his head, stunned. "Demon Mask? You're that fighter? Why hide here?" He could dominate any tournament. What's he running from? he thought.

Aaron raised a hand. "Relax. I'm Aaron Valor, family man now. That past stays here, between us. Not a word, especially not to Alexander." My boy doesn't need that shadow, he thought.

Thorne nodded, chewing his turnip. "Your secret's safe. Turnips are tougher than your clan, Aaron." He's still a monster, but I respect the family man, he thought.

Bennick clapped Aaron's shoulder, still shaky. "Scarier than any champ, Demon Mask or not. My lips are sealed." Demon Mask and my sister's lectures? I need an aspirin, he thought.

Arthur nodded, still reeling. "You're a mystery, Aaron. I won't tell a soul." He's a grandmaster hiding as a dad. Unreal, he thought.

Aaron laughed. "Good luck tomorrow, Bennick."

The quartet headed back, alley's silence swallowing their words. Inside, the dining room roared, the movie at its climax, the hero slamming a villain through a cage wall. The kids cheered, chicken bones and pasta flying, Augustus babbling "dada," flinging chicken bits. Ellie nudged Alexander, whispering, chomping a wing and pasta. "Alex, you're weird, but with Dad's intense vibes, you a ninja turtle with a big ninja turtle dad? Augustus is cuter, though." He's gonna hate this roast, she thought.

She's roasting this handsome face? Dad's aura is too intense, Thorne's gonna kill me, and I'm climbing to become more than a ninja turtle. Dojo's my nightmare, no one can help me from that crazy old geezer, Alexander thought, ruffling her hair, eating spaghetti. "Just your weird big brother, Ellie. Augustus is the real ninja turtle." Big ninja turtle dad? Ellie, you're killing me, and Augustus is stealing my spotlight.

Nana waved a drumstick, grinning, slurping spaghetti. "Alexander's blonde hair's like a crown! So handsome, Nana and Alex, perfect couple!" He's gonna shine at Bearfight High School tomorrow, and I'll cheer from Raging Storm High School, she thought, winking. Lila giggled, grabbing pasta and a wing. "Those blue eyes and that physique? Match made in the dojo!" They're too cute, she thought. Sophie nodded, tossing a bone. "Nana and Alexander forever! His handsome face is unreal!" Dojo royalty, she thought.

Arthur smiled, nudging Catherine. "Our Nana and Alex? They'll spark those floors, her at Raging Storm High School tomorrow, him at Bearfight. Young love and strong kicks!" My girl's got fire heading to Raging Storm, and Alex is a gem. They'd rule the dojo, he thought. Catherine giggled, eating a wing. "Look at them! Alexander's charm and Nana's energy? Unstoppable!" They're a dojo love story, and I'm cheering every step, she thought.

Bennick groaned, rubbing his temples, eating chicken and pasta. "Enough with Alexander's pretty face! You're killing me!" Why's it all about his looks? My head's a war zone, he thought.

Thorne plopped into his chair, crunching a turnip, muttering, "Movie's trash. Alexander's handsomeness? Overhyped. My dojo's where he shines." These kids are loud, but the dust bunny's got grit, he thought.

Clark nudged Alexander, still stunned, eating pasta. "Alex, you're a giant! That calm vibe, physique, and handsome face? Unreal!" He's a superhero now, but no clue if he can fight, he thought. David grinned, grabbing a drumstick. "Taller and ripped, man! That face is insane!" Ninja model vibes, hope he's got some skills, he thought. Kent laughed, eating spaghetti. "Not scrawny anymore. That handsome face kills it!" I'm jealous, but he's probably still weak. Gotta hype him, he thought. Allan adjusted his glasses, grabbing a wing. "Your focus and looks are next-level, Alex." Prodigy with a movie-star face, but can he throw a punch? I'm rooting anyway, he thought.

Grace smiled, passing chicken and spaghetti, checking Augustus's highchair. "Behave for the tournament tomorrow. No throwing bones over Alexander's fan club, and Augustus, no chicken wars!" This house is chaos, but it's my heart, she thought.

Aaron sat beside Grace, eyes flicking to Alexander and Augustus, a silent nod passing, eating a drumstick and pasta. My kids are growing, surrounded by loyalty. My past stays buried, he thought. Dad's got that intense vibe, but it's just him being him, Alexander thought, nodding back, Calm Mirror hiding his racing thoughts.

The movie ended with a cheesy roar, the kids erupting, Nana leading an "Al-ex! Al-ex!" chant, Augustus babbling "dada." Thorne rolled his eyes, crunching a turnip. "Noisy dust bunnies. Save it for the dojo." These kids are louder than my pipes, he thought. Bennick flexed, hamming it up, eating pasta, while Alexander stayed quiet, resolve burning.

As they spilled into the night, buzzing about Alexander's handsomeness and Nana, Alexander stood firm, Calm Mirror a shield, Instinct Engine humming. The Valor home glowed, a sanctuary of chaos, baby "dada" babbles, and love, but his path was set, to surpass the martial gods, to chase the impossible, to become the greatest.

The group lingered outside, fireflies dancing in the humid air, the Valor home's glow casting long shadows. Alexander huddled with Clark, David, Kent, and Allan near the porch, their voices low but electric, chicken grease still on their fingers. Clark, munching a leftover drumstick, grinned wide. "Yo, Alex, Bearfight High School starts tomorrow! Top-3 school, masters teaching Bull, Bear, and Azure Styles for kids catching up from elementary! You sticking with Beyonider, right?" This place is gonna be a warzone. Hope I don't get flattened first day, he thought, wiping his hands.

David, twirling a strand of spaghetti he'd snuck out, nodded. "Heard they got killer masters for Bull and Bear Styles. Even Azure, like Bennick's! You're set with Beyonider, Alex, that calm vibe's gonna own!" Kid's a beast now, he'll smoke those seniors, if he's got the skills, he thought, towering over the group.

Kent laughed, tossing a chicken bone into the grass. "Bearfight's intense, man! Top-3, with masters teaching Bull, Bear, Azure for catching up. Your physique's gonna freak 'em out!" I'm hyped but scared of those elite spars. Hope Alex isn't still a pushover, he thought, grinning at Alexander.

Alexander adjusted his hair, clutching a napkin with pasta stains. Time to school these bad boys, Allan thought, puffing up. "Yo, speaking of schools, you guys know about unranked high schools? Alright, I'll teach you! I'm the smartest kid!" Let's drop some knowledge on these dojo heads.

Alexander's eyebrow twitched, Instinct Engine pinging Allan's ego. There he goes again, he thought, biting his drumstick. Allan's 'smartest kid' shtick is louder than Thorne's yelling. I'm bored, not brain-dead. Though I'm really bored… maybe talk about the schools or whatever, sigh, I'm tired of socializing, he thought, twirling his drumstick, its crisp skin flaking. These guys are hyping me, but they've got no clue how strong I am. One style, that's the goddamn rule Bull, Bear, Azure, or whatever. You pick one, and it's your life. No mixing, no switching. Beyonider's my path, and I'm locked in.

Allan gestured wildly, glasses glinting under the streetlight. "Unranked high schools don't care about ranks, even though many of 'em got fighters so strong they could rank number one in this region—heck, other regions too! Why? It's a hassle to keep the rank! You gotta send your best high school fighters to ranked tournaments. They lose, your rank drops, and that high school that won takes your spot!" These schools are smart, dodging that pressure cooker, he thought, grinning. "Instead, unranked high schools focus on one thing: nurturing fighters who can compete for championships! City! Town! This whole country!"

Alexander yawned, twirling his drumstick. And that's it, he thought, eyes drifting to the fireflies. Allan's preaching, but I'm just picturing Thorne's turnips in a cage match. Unranked schools sound chill, but Bearfight's my headache tomorrow. He glanced at Thorne, lurking nearby, cane tapping, turnip in hand. Why's this geezer always beefing at Nana's school? "Yo, Master Thorne, what's your beef with Raging Storm High School, anyway? You keep muttering about it." Let's see what's got the old man so salty, he thought, smirking faintly.

Thorne, lurking nearby, crunched a smuggled turnip, cane tapping. "Because they're rats, Alexander! They are great at feints and kicks! Feints are for rats! In my opinion!" Raging Storm punks dodge like cowards, no spine. Bearfight's masters got real styles Bull, Bear, Azure, he thought, glaring.

Kent, tossing another bone, squinted at Bennick, leaning against a tree. "Yo, Bennick, hold up. You're just chilling with pasta, but where'd you even graduate from? Which high school?" Dude's a legend, but I'm bored and curious, he thought, smirking.

Bennick grinned, flexing, pasta falling from his mouth. "The top 1 King Azures High School in our region! I went there 'cause they teach Azure Style the best around!" Those masters drilled me into an Azure master, but my sister's still scarier, he thought, laughing.

Alexander's eyes flicked to Bennick, Calm Mirror steady. And that's it, he thought, tossing his drumstick bone. King Azures High School, huh? Bennick's Azure Style makes sense, all that precision. But I'm sticking with Beyonider. This socializing's draining me worse than Thorne's training.

Ellie bounced over, stealing a wing from Clark, cackling. "Bearfight's a jungle, Alex! Masters teaching Bull, Bear, Azure? You'll crush it with Beyonider, big bro!" He's gonna be the star, but I'm funnier, she thought, chomping.

Nana skipped up, twirling a drumstick, spaghetti sauce on her cheek. "Alexander at Bearfight High School tomorrow? Those blue eyes and handsome face? He'll rule and quickly become popular!" My dojo king's gonna conquer Bearfight, she thought, winking.

Aaron stood by the door, aura simmering, watching Alexander. Bearfight's masters start tomorrow, Bull, Bear, Azure for catching up. Alex's Beyonider fire's burning brighter, he thought, pride swelling. Grace, holding Augustus, who babbled "dada," smiled. "Bearfight and Raging Storm High School tomorrow—save energy for the floor!" My chaos crew's growing fast, she thought, kissing Augustus's curls.

Arthur nudged Catherine, munching a wing he'd grabbed. "Alex at Bearfight, Nana at Raging Storm High School tomorrow? They'll spark those floors with their fire. Young love and strong kicks!" My girl's got fire heading to Raging Storm, and Alex is a gem. They'd rule the dojo, he thought, grinning.

Catherine giggled, wiping spaghetti sauce from her hands. "Bearfight and Raging Storm High School tomorrow? Alexander's charm and Nana's energy? Unstoppable!" They're a dojo love story, and I'm cheering every step, she thought, beaming.

Lila tossed her hair, starry-eyed, nibbling a wing. "Alexander's gonna make Bearfight swoon with that handsome face! Nana's gonna kill it at Raging Storm High School tomorrow!" He's too cool for any school, she thought, giggling.

Sophie nodded, tossing a bone into the grass. "Bearfight won't know what hit 'em tomorrow! Alexander's blue eyes and physique? Total game-changer with Beyonider Style!" He's school royalty already, she thought, grinning.

Clark wiped grease from his fingers, eyes wide. "Alex, Bearfight's gonna be wild tomorrow! Bull Style's power, Bear's tanking, Azure's precision with masters. You're gonna shock all those masters with Beyonider!" I'm pumped, but am I hyping my boy too much? I don't even know how strong he is, just that he looks badass, he thought, grinning.

David loomed over, smirking, eating spaghetti. "You'll kill it at Bearfight tomorrow, Alex. Bull, Bear, Azure with masters for newbies? Your Beyonider calm's gonna own!" Everyone's hyping my boy, and I'm damn proud, but he might still be a pushover. Gotta cheer anyway, he thought.

Kent laughed, tossing another bone. "Bearfight's top-3, man! Masters teaching those styles for catching up? Your handsome face and Beyonider are gonna stun 'em tomorrow!" I'm hyped but praying I don't eat the floor. Alex better not either, he thought.

Alexander's heart pounded, Calm Mirror steadying him as fireflies blinked. Thorne hates Raging Storm for their feints and kicks? Well, he's got a point. Bull's raw power, Bear's tanking, Azure's precision they're solid. But Beyonider's my path, the only one I'll ever take. One style, that's the goddamn rule. Dad's still in his intimidating mode, Thorne's a turnip-crazed monster, and my friends have no clue how strong I am. I was trash once. Not anymore. I'll master Beyonider Style, surpass even martial gods, outshine everyone with hard work, and stand at the top the greatest, he thought, blue eyes blazing under the streetlight. No one calls me weak again. Bearfight's my cage, and I'm breaking through.