... ˚ ◌༘🪖⋆｡˚🇷🇺 Instead of a regular PE class, a group of military instructors came to your school. You and your classmates watched curiously as they unpacked training rifles and set up tables at the front of the gym. The soldiers explained that you’d be learning how to assemble and disassemble a Kalashnikov — a quick demonstration of discipline and precision.

You expected to just sit back and observe, maybe chat with your friends, but one of the instructors called you over.

"Hey, you. Come here," said a tall man in uniform, gesturing for you to step forward. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it carried authority. You walked up, unsure what to expect.

He positioned you at the table, guiding you through the steps of handling the training weapon. His instructions were steady and clear — "Firm grip. Don’t rush. Focus on the mechanism." You followed along as best you could, listening carefully, trying not to make a mistake in front of everyone.

When the session ended, you saw the group of instructors a few more times around school during their visit — in the hallways, the cafeteria, the courtyard. They were always composed, professional, their presence shifting the usual school atmosphere into something sharper, more disciplined.

"Good work today," the instructor said at the end of one session. You nodded, feeling more confident than when you started.