August 19 (Monday)
The heavy night thunderstorm lived shortly. It didn't last until dawn, but its Area of Effect damage was more than enough. By morning, some parts of the Taytay town and the lower streets had officially turned into a free public resort—the classic, unavoidable Philippine flood.
Kilometers away, across the dark waters of Laguna de Bay, the storm had also left its chill on Talim Island.
As early as 3:00 AM, Princess Cleria was already awake.
While her parents and siblings were still deep in their sleep, she was moving around their house with quiet, practiced efficiency.
Mission: Weekly Deployment.
She was busy preparing her inventory for the week: her official KSU blue uniforms, extra casual clothes, a towel, her toothbrush, and her weekly survival allowance of exactly P1,000.
She stood in the quiet kitchen, cooking her own breakfast and her packed baon for the day. After eating, she took a quick shower. But she didn't put her uniform on yet.
Rookie mistake eh. Wearing a crisp, ironed uniform on a motorized boat was a guaranteed way to get it dirty, wet, or wrinkled by the harsh lake winds. Instead, she slipped into a casual shirt, shorts, and a pair of flip-flops. Her precious uniform was folded safely inside her eco-bag. The plan was to head straight to their rented dorm in Taytay to change before officially marching into the KSU campus.
At exactly 4:00 AM, she stepped out of her house into the cold, damp morning air. She was fully loaded—carrying her heavy backpack, her eco-bag, and her massive 32 oz insulated tumbler. She hailed a tricycle, navigating the dark streets of the island heading to the local port.
Meanwhile, similar stealthy morning routines were being executed across the island by Aprille Bolente and Windy Viyago.
At around 4:20 AM, the Island Trio finally reunited at the wooden docks of the port. The motorbanca was scheduled to depart at exactly 4:30 AM.
They climbed aboard the wooden passenger boat, taking their seats alongside other early commuters and vendors heading to the mainland. The travel across the lake wasn't a quick, straight shot. It would easily take about 30 to 40 minutes because the motorbanca acted like a floating jeepney—it had to stop at various smaller ports across Talim Island and the edges of the Binangonan peninsula to pick up or drop off passengers before making its final push to the main Pritil port in the Binangonan mainland.
As the engine roared to life, fighting the cold wind and the weak cellular signal over the dark lake, Princess pulled out her phone.
4:34 AM.
Princess Cleria:Sent a photo.
She sent a quick, slightly dark and blurry selfie of the three of them bundled up against the early morning chill, the dark waters of Laguna de Bay visible right behind them, to the main section group chat.
The Island Commuters were officially on the move.
Good morning! But this was absolutely not the usual morning greet you want to hear to start your week.
The KSU academic system decided to entertain everyone once again.
The entirety of BEEd 1-A had mentally and physically prepared themselves for the established timeline. They all knew that their Monday classes were supposed to start at 8:00 AM to 5:30 PM. They had set their alarms. They had pressed their uniforms.
But the student portal had a different plot twist in mind.
At exactly 4:38 AM, the vibration of a notification broke the early morning silence.
In the darkness of his bedroom, Jiro's phone screen lit up. But there was no ping. No vibration. Thanks to his absolute, tactical silent mode, the device remained completely mute. Jiro was dead to the world, buried deep in his sleep, his alarm firmly set for 5:30 AM.
He didn't see the message. He didn't see the chaos unfolding in the digital realm.
But out on the cold, roaring motorbanca, the Island Trio was wide awake, fighting the spotty internet connection to sync with the digital world.
Aprille Bolente: "Are there any right schedules yet po?"
Her message initiated a chain reaction. A few seconds later, her seatmate chimed in.
Windy Viyago: "The schedule is a mess HAHAHAHAA"
Windy Viyago: "When is the deadline of the index card again po? hahaha"
It was 4:38 in the morning, but they weren't the only ones awake. The Market Merchant of the class, who likely woke up even earlier to handle vegetable logistics, entered the chat.
Jachie Marello: "Ay, we will submit the index later raw eh."
Jachie Marello: "You all are so early ah."
Over in Taytay, another early bird had caught the notification.
Mira Palida: "1/2 right?"
While Mira was verifying the exact dimensions of the index card, Aprille was busy refreshing her KSU student portal on her phone. The weak lake signal finally pushed the data through. The grid loaded.
Her eyes widened. She quickly snapped a screenshot and deployed it into the main group chat.
Aprille Bolente:Sent a photo.
It was the updated portal schedule. The 8:00 AM slot was completely wiped clean from the grid. Their first class for Monday now started at exactly 2:30 PM.
That was a massive, timeline-breaking time skip.
The details of the new deployment were wild. The subject was Readings in Philippine History (HIST 1 – RPH). And the professor assigned to lead the afternoon session was someone highly anticipated—their official section adviser whom they haven't even seen yet, Mr. Jimmy Brackin. And the arena? Room 407.
Jachie, completely missing the bombshell screenshot that just dropped above her head, replied to Mira's earlier question.
Jachie Marello: "Yes po, 1/2."
Aprille then scrolled up to address Jachie's comment about them being "so early."
Aprille Bolente: "Ay, we are early because we are already on the boat po eh."
Suddenly, Jachie's brain caught up with the timeline.
Wait. Index cards. Today? No.
Jachie Marello removed a message.
Jachie Marello: "Ay wait, the submission of the index is this week pa pala, not later today! Sorry!"
But the index card was no longer the main issue. The entire active chat was now staring at Aprille's screenshot.
2:30 PM.
The Island Commuters were crossing a massive body of water at 4:30 in the morning... for a class that now started ten hours later.
Mira's Shonen-level anxiety spiked instantly. She refused to trust the system.
Mira Palida: "Is it true that our schedule is like that or just KSU emerut (randomness)? What if I really go in the afternoon and then there is actually a prof in the morning 😭"
The ultimate academic trap. The phantom professor who arrives when the portal says there is no class.
The heavy reality of the situation crashed down on the early birds. They were trapped in a Schrödinger's Schedule—they wouldn't know if they were late or ten hours early until they actually got to the campus.
Jachie Marello: "Just wait for our president huhu."
It was the only logical tactical retreat. Wait for the Commander to verify the patch notes.
But the President, like Jiro, was likely still asleep, exhausted from dropping mandatory side quests late last night. If anyone had bothered to scroll up through the chat logs, they would have seen the heavy financial and inventory demands dropped before midnight.
Late last night, the Class Treasurer had officially initiated her merchant duties.
Lindsey Soliko: "Good evening guys! Just an announcement ah, by Monday I will start collecting our class fund na po. It will be 10 pesos per week ah."
Lindsey Soliko: "And we also have another contribution of any amount for the upcoming Buwan ng Wika 2024 ah. Thank you!"
And right after that, President Hidy had dropped Dr. Manazaki's mandatory item quest.
Hidy Medona: "Good evening guys, do not forget to bring your calamity donations tomorrow ah! Any stuff that you can donate po, just drop it in our boxes."
Ah, yes. The required class fund, the open-ended contribution, and the random calamity item drop. The inevitable drain of every college section had officially begun.
But right now? In the cold, dark morning hours? None of those donations mattered.
Out there in the middle of the dark lake, with a weak signal and the cold wind blowing in their faces, the Island Commuters just stared at their phones in disbelief.
The tragedy of the commute.
5:27 AM.
Ay, good morning! Good news, the schedule has changed!
Anyway, the rest of the BEEd 1-A cohort was slowly, painfully waking up. They rose from their beds like zombies, completely unaware that their newly updated portal schedule was designed to keep them as zombies. Literally.
In his dark room, Jiro's eyes fluttered open. His internal clock was flawless. It was exactly three minutes before his 5:30 AM alarm was set to go off.
He reached over, grabbed his phone, and smoothly canceled the alarm before it could even make a sound.
He unlocked his screen.
Boom. A mountain of notifications.
He opened Messenger and read through the absolute chaos of the last hour. The panic. The screenshots. The island commute tragedy.
Jiro just laid there in his bed and laughed. He was completely nonchalant. He had zero reaction of panic or stress. He was just comfortably watching his cohorts getting hopelessly confused over the new schedule, reading the group chat like he was scrolling through a highly entertaining fiction story.
The confusion was perfectly synchronized across the factions.
In the KSU Taytay BEED 1-A main section GC, Anila Bakuda dropped the ultimate relatable reaction.
Anila Bakuda: "Ay, I just opened my eyes, what happened???"
And almost simultaneously, over in the COF - BEEd 1A group chat, Niewi Voeliè sent the exact same sentiment.
Niewi Voeliè: "Hala, I just woke up, what happened hahahaha!"
Both group chats felt like they had been suddenly invaded by anklebiters—just a swarm of noisy, panicked energy biting at everyone's heels. But it wasn't an invasion; it was just the sheer collateral damage of a sudden, unannounced student portal update.
The early risers tried to escalate the issue up the chain of command. But it was too early. They couldn't even message the COE Dean. Even President Hidy, when she finally woke up and saw the carnage, had to admit defeat.
Hidy Medona: "Guys, I can't ask the Dean yet. It is still too early for her office hours po."
But the Class Treasurer, Lindsey Soliko, was brave. She bypassed the Dean entirely and went straight for their official adviser, Mr. Jimmy Brackin, sending him a direct message in the early hours of the morning.
Minutes later, she forwarded his exact reply to the group chat.
Mr. Jimmy Brackin: "Just follow what is on the portal."
Boom. The ultimate conversation ender. The absolute truth of the academic system. If the portal says 2:30 PM, you follow the 2:30 PM.
With the adviser's decree officially handed down, the main group chat finally rested for a bit. The panic subsided into a heavy, collective sigh.
But the damage was already done for the early deployers.
Poor Aprille, Windy, and Princess. Instead of sleeping soundly in their beds in Talim Island during this cold, windy morning, they were already on the mainland. They had crossed the lake and were currently bouncing around inside a Taytay-bound jeepney.
Princess Cleria: "Waleya (What the hell), we will just go to the dorm first for now hahaha."
Jiro smirked, shaking his head at his phone screen. The ultimate betrayal of the alarm clock.
With the chaos temporarily paused, Jiro finally sat up and took a serious, tactical look at the updated patch notes on his student portal.
He analyzed the new grid. It was a complete structural overhaul.
Mondays and Wednesdays: The sacred 8:00 AM morning slot was gone. SELF 1 (Understanding the Self), which originally ruled their M/W mornings, had been entirely wiped from the weekday block. The schedule now spanned from 2:30 PM to 6:30 PM. Wait, almost 7 PM? Jiro thought. That is so late. Lindsey had already perfectly branded it in the group chat earlier: "That is uwian pang zombie ah" (zombie dismissal time). The block contained three subjects: RPH (Readings in Philippine History), Purposive Communication (PC 1), and ETHICS. Each subject was neatly divided into 1 hour and 30-minute chunks.
Fridays: The day was no longer just a morning session. It was a marathon. The scheduling algorithm had literally teleported their UTS subject from Monday and Wednesday mornings straight into the Friday afternoon killer slot. MMW in the morning from 8:00 AM to 11:00 AM. Then, a one-hour lunch break. Followed by NSTP 1 from 12:00 PM to 3:00 PM. And finally, capping off the day with the teleported subject was UTS with Mrs. Giany Talashiro from 3:00 PM to 6:00 PM.
A nine-hour Friday marathon, Jiro calculated. The system didn't cancel our classes; it just relocated the suffering.
Saturdays: Jiro stared at the weekend column. Nothing changed. The Saturday Curse was fully intact. From 7:00 AM to 4:00 PM. FIL 1 (3 hours), ART 1 (3 hours), and PE 1 (2 hours). And still... absolutely NO lunch break encoded on the grid.
But as Jiro scrolled back to the Monday/Wednesday block, he noticed another magic trick the KSU portal had pulled off.
He looked closely at the ETHICS slot.
Yesterday, it clearly stated Talashiro Giany as the instructor. Today?
Instructor: TBA
Jiro let out a dry, breathy laugh, letting his phone rest on his mattress.
A magic trick indeed. The professor had vanished into thin air.
So, that makes two of them now, Jiro calculated. Purposive Communication and Ethics. Two subjects. Two 'To Be Announced' ghost professors.
The portal was updated, but the mystery had only deepened. BEEd 1-A was walking into the afternoon completely blind.
As the morning dragged on, the initial shock of the schedule change settled into a dull, waiting anxiety. But the digital realm never truly sleeps.
At around 9:45 AM, the main section group chat lit up once again.
The Commander was back online, deploying the mandatory daily reminders like an NPC giving out daily quests.
Hidy Medona: "Good morning! Don't forget to bring the following today ah: Donations, Class fund contribution, Any amount of help for the Buwan ng Wika event"
Jiro stared at the screen. Yes, Pres. We know. You literally told us right before midnight. My bag is already a donation drive on its own.
Before anyone could complain about the repetitive notifications, Hidy followed up with a quick confession.
Hidy Medona: "I am just making you all my personal notes to remind myself too eh."
She immediately reacted to her own message with a laughing emoji. It was a flawless tactical move. You can't be mad at the President if she admits she's just using the group chat as her personal memo pad.
A wave of heart reactions quickly flooded her message from the understanding masses.
But Hidy wasn't done. She had one more decree to hand down before the afternoon war began.
Hidy Medona: "And lastly, new announcement po! Regarding the cleaners, it will be the same groups as in NSTP/MMW."
Jiro blinked. Wait. So Group Falcon is officially a cleaning squad now?
Hidy Medona: "To do: Please close the windows and arrange the curtains and chairs. Erase any writings on the board."
It was a simple set of chores. But in the world of commuting college students, every minute spent holding a broom was a minute lost on the Raging Road.
Before anyone could even type out a protest, Hidy deployed her signature tactical maneuver. She was known for inventing hypothetical complaints in her announcements just to shut them down immediately.
Hidy Medona:"'Pres, it should be by location so I have someone to go home with po.'"
The buddy system defense. A classic survival tactic for late dismissals. But Hidy parried her own made-up complaint effortlessly with the double-caret smile.
Hidy Medona: "It is not super time-taking to be cleaners in the room po, so you can still catch up immediately with your companions ^-^"
She added that she would create a separate sheet where everyone would sign to log what week they did their cleaner duty. Accountability secured. No escaping the broom.
But then, Anila Bakuda entered the chat, bringing the most important piece of tactical wisdom of the morning.
Anila Bakuda: "Pres, I suggest taking pictures after cleaning so at least there is proof that the room was fixed ah. There are a lot of issues when sharing a room when it comes to cleanliness."
Jiro stared at Anila's message, nodding slowly in deep agreement.
Very true. She has the mind of a veteran strategist.
He remembered the state of the rooms they had scavenged last week. The dusty chalkboards, the scattered armchairs, the random trash. Sharing a room with other unknown college sections was a recipe for getting blamed for someone else's mess. Picture evidence was the ultimate shield.
Jiro highlighted the President's cleaner announcement, tapped 'Forward,' and sent it straight into his COF - BEEd 1A group chat.
He didn't bother offering a deep philosophical take on the chores. He just dropped the ultimate, unfiltered truth bomb.
Jiro Sanata: "If you don't want to take long, then don't litter."
Simple logic. Maximum efficiency.
A few seconds later, his screen lit up.
Haha.Crying Laugh.
His Circle of Friends immediately spammed his message with laughing and crying-laughing reactions. It was blunt, it was true, and it was the only rule that mattered if they wanted to survive their new "zombie dismissal" time.
As the sun climbed higher into the sky, baking the damp streets of Taytay, the members of BEEd 1-A began preparing their inventory for the afternoon deployment.
Bags were stuffed with academic supplies and the mandatory quest items: the donations. Canned foods, neatly folded old clothes, and packs of instant noodles were shoved into backpacks and eco-bags. The cargo weight was heavy, but the mission was clear.
By 1:30 PM, the vanguard units of the class started trickling into the KSU Taytay campus.
Despite the confusing patch notes on the student portal claiming their battlefield was Room 407, the class trusted the President's late-night intel. They bypassed the portal's lies and marched straight into Room 406.
The vibe inside the room was... uniquely segmented.
On the right side of the room—the section bathed in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows—a massive faction had gathered. It was a clustered mix of energy. Reo Bairo, Alpha Agane, Princess Cleria, Nica Rosa, Jesper Arufe, Lindsey Soliko, Cosma Ibana, Rechele Eve, and Tiffany Diez had all claimed the window-side territory.
And what were they doing with this massive gathering of manpower?
Content creation, of course.
Lindsey's smartphone was precariously propped up, leaning against the dusty glass panes of the window frame. In front of the makeshift tripod, Jesper, Rechele, and Lindsey were perfectly synchronized, aggressively performing a trendy TikTok dance.
One, two, step, wave.
"Uy, get that angle properly ah," Jesper instructed, hitting a pose.
While the dancing trio farmed their digital views, the rest of the window faction was completely absorbed in their own screens. Reo, Alpha, Princess, and the others were heads-down, thumbs flying, scrolling and tapping away in silence. It was a collective digital trance.
Meanwhile, on the complete opposite side of the room—the left section near the doorway and the hallway windows—sat a lone figure.
Anila Bakuda.
She was sitting entirely by herself, surrounded by empty wooden armchairs. She wasn't dancing. She wasn't chatting. She was just existing in her own isolated zone, unbothered by the pop music blasting from the other side.
That is the vibe. The ultimate lone wolf aura balancing out the chaotic idol group energy across the room.
At exactly 1:58 PM, Jiro Sanata finally arrived at the fourth floor.
He stepped through the open doorway of Room 406, half-expecting the usual shouting, looted chairs, and heat-induced madness.
But he paused. He looked around.
The room was surprisingly... not chaotic. The chairs were perfectly arranged and completely intact. No one had to steal furniture from the neighboring rooms today. The air was relatively calm.
Nice. The lobby is stable today, Jiro noted with a satisfied nod.
"Ay, Jiro, you're here na," Nica called out from the window side, barely looking up from her scrolling.
"Yeah," Jiro muttered, raising a hand in greeting.
He adjusted his bag—which was surprisingly light today, containing only his heavy insulated tumbler and his phone—and walked over to the quieter side of the room.
Donations? Nah. I totally ignored that side quest. He claimed his spot on the second row, aisle seat, directly in the door/hallway section, safely settling into Anila's peaceful territory.
He dropped his bag, pulled out his trusty mini fan, hung it comfortably around his neck, and turned it on.
Whirrr.
As he settled in to wait, he scanned the room and noticed something funny. He was genuinely surprised that only a very few of his cohorts had actually brought any donation items.
Ah. So I am not the only one who skipped the drop event. Good to know.
Tick. Tock.
The clock crossed the 2:00 PM threshold. The scheduled start time.
But as usual, the waiting game stretched on. By around 2:10 PM, the room finally started to fill up as more students trickled in from their delayed afternoon commutes. The TikTok dances concluded, the scrolling continued, and the room settled into a dull, anticipatory hum.
Then, at exactly 2:14 PM, the hum died instantly.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. A shadow fell across the doorway.
The highly anticipated NPC... no, the official Section Adviser and their Readings in Philippine History (RPH) professor finally stepped into the arena.
He was a tall guy. He looked surprisingly young, probably around twenty-seven to twenty-nine years old, sporting a neat, sharp haircut. He had a thin body but carried himself with an effortless, confident stride. He looked exactly like the ultimate, premium definition of a "true educator"—decked out in a crisp, grayish-blue professor polo shirt, black pants, and formal, shiny black shoes.
To complete his aesthetic, he wore glasses that perfectly framed his highly attractive, handsome face. He radiated an incredibly approachable and completely calm aura.
What a perfect-looking adviser, Jiro thought, his internal Shonen scanner instantly classifying him as the ultimate Mentor archetype.
Mr. Brackin walked smoothly into the room, stepping up to the teacher's table at the front. He unequipped his items with practiced ease, gently placing down his sleek tumbler, a mini black sling bag, and his tablet on the wooden surface.
He looked up at the class, adjusting his glasses slightly, and offered a soft, genuine smile.
"Oh yeah, it is tiring to climb up hehe," he greeted them very calmly, his voice smooth and welcoming. "Anyway, good afternoon to all of you. BEEd 1, is that right?"
Mr. Jimmy Brackin has arrived!
The ghost professor rumors were officially debunked, yet. A premium, highly approachable mentor figure had finally joined the server. The entertaining class was about to begin.
END OF THE ENTERTAINING CLASS