Alexander moved first.
Fast.
Very fast.
The students reacted immediately.
They had seen this before.
They knew his speed.
His combinations.
His ability to overwhelm opponents.
He attacked confidently.
A series of strikes.
Powerful.
Precise.
But I didn't move.
Not because I was frozen.
Because I was watching.
In rescue work, observation came before action.
You studied the environment.
You studied the person.
You studied the danger.
Alexander had spent years learning how to attack.
But he had spent less time learning how to read.
His first strike came close.
I stepped aside.
The second missed.
The third never reached me.
The room became quieter.
Alexander stopped.
Confused.
“What happened?”
I looked at him.
“Nothing.”
“You avoided everything.”
“Yes.”
“How?”