The next morning, the school looked normal.
That was the first lie.
Students laughed at the gates.
Teachers called attendance.
Lunch carts rolled across the yard.
Everything looked exactly the same.
But Arga hadn't slept.
The energy inside his body never stopped moving.
It pulsed through his chest all night.
Whispering through his muscles.
Keeping his eyes open until sunrise.
And when he arrived at school—
it was still there.
Alive.
He sat in class beside the window.
The teacher was talking.
Numbers covered the board.
Arga understood every answer before the question finished.
He heard pages turning three rows behind him.
He heard footsteps outside.
He heard someone whisper his name from across the room.
Too clear.
Too sharp.
Too wrong.
"So..." Sinta whispered behind him.
Arga didn't turn.
"...not now."
"Why?"
"Because if I start talking about it..."
His jaw tightened.
"...it becomes real."
Sinta fell silent.
Because she understood.
Something had changed yesterday.
And neither of them knew how far it would go.
The bell rang.
Lunch break.
The classroom exploded with movement.
"MBG IS HERE!" someone shouted.
Metal lunch boxes were wheeled into the room.
Steam rose into the air.
The smell of warm rice filled the classroom.
Normal.
Too normal.
Arga stood beside Bimo and Sinta.
"I'm starving," Bimo announced.
"You're always starving," Sinta replied.
"It's a talent."
Usually, Arga would have smiled.
Today—
he checked the box first.
He opened it slowly.
Rice.
Chicken.
Vegetables.
One banana.
He looked at the bottom.
No symbol.
No glow.
Nothing.
But his body still reacted.
Waiting.
Hungry.
"Why are you staring at it like it insulted your family?" Bimo asked.
"Just eat."
They sat down.
As usual, Bimo finished first.
Rice gone.
Chicken gone.
Vegetables gone.
Only the banana remained.
He grinned.
"My champion."
He peeled it.
One bite.
Second bite.
Gone.
Then he frowned.
Just slightly.
"...guys?"
Sinta looked up.
"What now?"
Bimo stared at his own legs.
"They won't stop moving."
Arga froze.
"What?"
"I'm serious..."
His chair shot backward.
Bimo vanished from the room.
Students shouted in surprise.
Arga and Sinta were already running.
By the time they reached the field—
Bimo had completed one lap.
Then another.
Then another.
Too fast.
His feet hammered the ground like machine fire.
Dust exploded behind him.
Students jumped out of his way.
A trash can spun through the air after he clipped it at full speed.
Wind tore across the field.
"What is WRONG with him?!" someone yelled.
"He's insane!"
Sinta's face hardened.
"...this is bad."
Arga nodded once.
"It's the same thing that happened to me."
A beat.
"...but worse."
Bimo raced past them again.
His eyes were wide with panic.
"I CAN'T STOP!"
He wasn't controlling his body anymore.
His body was using him.
One wrong step—
and his legs would snap.
One collision—
and he'd die.
"We grab him," Sinta said.
"No."
Arga's voice came instantly.
"If we touch him now, he'll crash."
"Then what?!"
Arga watched Bimo's rhythm.
His stride.
His breathing.
The panic hidden beneath the speed.
Then he exhaled.
"I match him."
Sinta stared.
"...you're insane."
"Probably."
He stepped forward.
The energy inside him answered immediately.
His body became lighter.
Then lighter still.
Then—
he ran.
The field blurred.
The world stretched thin.
Wind roared in his ears.
But this time—
he controlled it.
He caught up to Bimo.
Bimo looked ready to fall apart.
"I CAN'T STOP!"
"I know!"
Arga moved ahead of him.
"Follow me!"
"WHAT?!"
"JUST DO IT!"
Arga slowed slightly.
Then again.
Then again.
Tiny adjustments.
Measured.
Controlled.
Sinta ran alongside them.
"LEFT!"
Bimo turned.
Barely.
"WIDER!"
Again.
"NOW SLOW!"
Step by step—
panic became rhythm.
Chaos became movement.
And finally—
Bimo stumbled.
Collapsed to his knees.
The field fell silent.
He sucked in air desperately.
"...what the hell was that...?"
Arga stood over him.
Breathing steady.
No exhaustion.
No pain.
That scared him more than anything.
"We're changing," he said quietly.
Sinta slowly opened her lunch box.
At the bottom—
a glowing symbol waited.
Arga opened his.
The same golden light answered back.
Bimo looked inside his own box.
A new symbol was forming.
Bright.
Alive.
Connected.
None of them spoke.
Because now they knew.
This wasn't happening to one person anymore.
It was spreading.
Then—
GRRRRMMMM.
A low engine rolled through the school gate.
Every head turned.
A black vehicle entered the campus slowly.
Too slowly.
Like it wanted to be seen.
Students grew quiet.
Teachers stopped moving.
The vehicle came to a halt.
The door opened.
Several people stepped out.
Clean uniforms.
Cold faces.
No school badges.
No identification.
One of them carried a large metal container.
Stamped with the same blue letters:
MBG.
Bimo stood slowly.
"...that's our program, right?"
"No," Arga said immediately.
His body was already reacting.
Not warmth.
Not power.
Warning.
Danger.
Sinta took a step back.
"...that thing feels wrong."
The man carrying the container lifted his head.
And looked directly at Arga.
No hesitation.
No confusion.
As if he already knew exactly who he was looking for.
Arga's fist tightened.
His heartbeat slammed once against his ribs.
Hard.
"They're not here to deliver food."
The lid of the container clicked open.
A crimson light spilled into the schoolyard.
Unlike the warm golden glow inside Arga's lunch box—
this light felt angry.
Hungry.
Wrong.
And for the first time since everything began—
Arga felt fear.
Real fear.