As Regan walked up to the front of the classroom, she stumbled a couple times, causing her long blond hair to sway. As she walked, she seemed to steel herself her pale blue eyes deep in confounded concentration.
As she made her way to the front of the classroom, she clicked her heel on the other and spun like a soldier towards the front of the classroom. After a moment, she cleared her throat and started her presentation.
"Alright, so today I'll be presenting on the Titan Ranks, or as they're more commonly called, the Monster Ranks. This is, uh, a pretty important topic, especially for anyone looking to become a soldier." She gave a quick smile, her voice a little stronger now.
"Okay, so first off, we have the Grave-class Titans. These are the lower tier—still dangerous, but they're manageable. A group of soldiers can take them down without too much trouble, though, if you're solo... well, it's not a good idea. They're tough, but not impossible to handle."
She took a moment to breathe, then moved on.
"Next, we have the Calamity-class Titans. Now, these ones are much worse. A group can take them on, but individually, they're a serious threat. Think of it like trying to fight a mountain—except it fights back. They're huge, strong, and they can cause a lot of damage."
She stumbled for a moment as she flipped through her notes but quickly recovered.
"Uh, right. So, Abyssal-class Titans... these are rare. I mean, like, really rare. Only the highest-ranking soldiers can handle them, and even then, they typically need a squad to face one off. Their power is—well, let's just say they can level entire cities if left unchecked."
Regan's hands tightened slightly around her notes, but she continued without hesitation.
"Then, there's the Catastrophe-class Titans. These are some of the most terrifying monsters we have on record. Only a handful of Grade 7 soldiers can fight them, and even they would need a group to stand a chance. They're just massive and—well, let's just say if one shows up, things are going to get really, really bad."
She glanced at the class, gauging their reactions, before moving on to the last rank.
"And finally, the Null-class Titans. We don't actually know what these look like. No one's ever seen one, but we think they're the biggest, most dangerous creatures out there. If one of these things ever showed up, humanity would be in serious trouble. There's no Grade 7 or Grade 8 soldier capable of handling it."
Regan cleared her throat, then smiled, feeling the weight of the presentation lift off her shoulders.
"Anyway, that's the ranking system for Titans. From Grave to Null, they just get more dangerous as you go. And now that I've explained that, uh, yeah. Thanks for listening!"
When Regan made her way back to her seat, Professor Renwick stood up, clearly impressed.
"Ah, that was a great presentation, Regan. But I'm curious—how did you learn about the NULL-class Titans? None have been confirmed, so it's still more of a theory. That's why we don't usually cover it in class."
Regan paused mid-step, surprised by the question. She turned back toward him.
"Oh, you might not know, but my brother is a Grade 4 soldier. He taught me a lot about Titans and the grade system before I enrolled in the academy."
Her voice softened, and a shadow passed over her expression.
"But… he was transferred to a village pretty far away. They said his Etherium trail was getting too strong to stay here."
The classroom fell into a heavy silence. For a few seconds, no one spoke. Then, sensing the shift in mood, Renwick responded—this time without his usual sarcasm.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Regan. I'm sure your brother's doing great work out there—and probably helping a lot of people."
He gave her a small nod, then quickly shifted gears back into his more familiar tone, raising a brow dramatically.
"And hey, if your brother's a Grade 4, that means you've got loads of potential. Teaching someone like you might finally get me that raise. Just imagine—'Renwick, educator of prodigies.' Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
The class burst into laughter, the heavy silence from earlier swept away in an instant. Regan smiled sheepishly, and even a few of the more uptight students cracked a grin. Professor Renwick ran a hand through his perpetually disheveled black hair, pushing it into a semblance of his usual lazy middle part. He let out a long, theatrical sigh.
"I'll give you all ten minutes to talk amongst yourselves," he said, the sarcasm fading slightly from his voice. "After that, we're heading out to the back courtyard for some combat training. Don't get too comfortable—I will make you sweat. But for now… socialize. Or pretend to."
The classroom quickly erupted into conversation, a bubbling mixture of gossip, theory, and casual chatter. Desks screeched as students pulled chairs closer together. Some stood by the windows, others leaned across aisles, their voices overlapping in a chaotic harmony of youth.
But Rowan sat alone.
He stared down at his desk, the polished wood cool beneath his fingertips. He traced the grain absently, pretending not to notice how no one looked his way, how no one had even acknowledged him since he walked through the academy doors. Around him, voices floated like ghosts, brushing past him but never settling.
"I heard someone spotted a Class 1 Titan a few kilometers north of the village wall. It hasn't moved in days, but the guards are on edge."
"No way. That's just a rumor. If it was real, we'd already be in lockdown."
"My cousin's on the recon team. He says it's real. Big, slow, and just standing there. Like it's waiting for something."
Rowan's fingers paused for a second—then resumed their tracing.
"Ugh, why does Renwick always make us train? I just washed my hair."
"You're the one who tried to mix conditioner with Etherium soap. It literally glowed for three hours."
"It was experimental. Could've been a breakthrough."
"You looked like a lantern."
A few students laughed nearby. Rowan glanced up for only a second—then quickly looked back down.
"Hey, are we still doing the study group after class?"
"Depends. If today's training doesn't break my legs, then sure."
"I'll bring snacks. Actual snacks, not that dry protein mush."
More laughter.
"You guys heard Elira's team scored highest in last week's Etherium control trial? Again."
"Yeah, well, one of their members did pass out. Guess they forgot to mention that part."
"Worth it. Honestly, if I had Elira in my group, I'd probably be passing out on purpose just to impress her."
"You say that now. Wait until she calls you dead weight to your face."
Rowan gave the faintest smile at that one.
"Hey… that kid, I think his name's Rowan. When did he transfer into this class?"
"Oh, that one? He's always been in this class. Pretty sure he just skips most days."
"You know why?"
"Dunno. He doesn't talk to anyone. Might be a late bloomer."
"Or maybe…" a short pause, followed by a careless chuckle, "he's just weak."
Rowan's smile faded.
He shut his eyes for a moment. Breathed in. Held it. Let it out slowly.
The voices around him blurred into background noise—just wind through hollow halls. Rowan didn't try to join in. He didn't look up again. He simply waited, quietly counting the seconds in his head. Alone.
Waiting for the ten minutes to pass.
Waiting to be called outside.
Waiting for something to change.
Eventually, the time would come—and they'd all make their way out to the courtyard.
To train.