The door handle lowered. Leo held his breath. The living whiteboard rolled inexorably toward the exit. In a millisecond full of panic, Leo threw himself forward, grabbed the metallic frame of the board, and pulled it back with all his strength behind the large teacher's blackboard.
At that very moment, the door opened and Mr. Dr. Kringel entered, holding a steaming cup that smelled of chamomile and burnt hay. He looked over the rim of his glasses and saw Leo, who was pressing against the wall with outstretched arms and a sweat-dampened forehead.
“Leo? Why are you standing there like a trapped bat?” Mr. Kringel asked suspiciously.
“I… I was just doing stretching exercises!” Leo lied hastily. “Because of the back pain from all the cleaning!” Behind him, the whiteboard gave a quiet, mechanical giggle. Leo coughed loudly to drown out the noise. “COUGH! Yes, the disc!”
Mr. Kringel shook his head and set down his cup. He approached the Q-Fluctuator 3000 which was still glowing bright green. “Remarkable. The display is working again. But what is that strange code on the screen?” He leaned deeply over the device.
The whiteboard used the distraction. It whispered to Leo: “Object blocking field of vision. Initiating evasive maneuvers in zigzag course!” Before Leo could react, the board shot out from behind the blackboard, rolled smoothly around Mr. Kringel, and sped through the open door directly into the empty school hallway.
Mr. Kringel stared after the white wall on wheels. He rubbed his eyes, looked at his herbal tea, and whispered: “I knew it. The tea is too strongly brewed.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kringel! I’ll catch it!” Leo shouted, grabbed the Q-Fluctuator from the table, and ran after it.
Outside in the hallway, all hell was breaking loose – at least in a very physical way. The whiteboard wasn’t just driving around; it fired tiny green static bolts from its corners as it passed. Wherever a bolt struck, strange things happened. A vending machine suddenly developed consciousness and began firing cans of cola like a machine gun volley at the lockers. Three wooden chairs from the biology room galloped like a herd of wild ponies toward the stairwell.
“Stop! Stand still!” Leo shouted as he sprinted down the hallway.
The whiteboard turned 180 degrees toward him while moving, so the drawn eyes looked at him. “Negative feedback, creator! Movement increases efficiency! I have just optimized the school infrastructure!”
“You brought the chairs to life!” Leo shouted out of breath.
At that moment, Zoe rounded the corner. She was already wearing her jacket and was actually about to go home. She stopped abruptly when a wooden chair zipped past her, followed by a racing whiteboard and a completely panicked Leo.
Zoe stared at the scene, blinked twice, and said dryly: “Okay. This is definitely better than homework.”