When Rhian stepped fully into the room, the first thing he noticed was the lack of people.
Compared to his last class, packed full of students of all types, this room felt almost empty.
There were maybe 6 students at most.
It was quiet. Not in an uncomfortable way, but in a way that made the air feel heavier. Like this was normal for them.
Rhian's eyes scanned the room.
The first person that caught his eye was a tall guy leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His skin had strange dark marks across it, like burn scars that shimmered faintly under the light. His eyes were sharp, watching everything without saying a word.
Not far from him sat a girl on the floor, legs crossed like sitting in a chair was never an option.
Her arms were wrapped in bandages from fingertip to elbow, the faint outlines of scales visible under the cloth. She chewed gum slowly, looking bored.
Behind her, a young man leaned on the wall. He looked like he was sick or dead.
Near the corner, two others whispered to each other, both noticeably pale with eyes that almost glowed faintly, a dead giveaway of some insane bloodline.
One of them had sharp pointed ears, not elven, more animalistic, while the other had clawed fingers tapping lazily on their knee.
Rhian didn't miss the last student, either.
A smaller guy, sitting alone, hood up, shadows covering most of his face. But Rhian caught the faint glimpse of extra pupils lining his cheek like an insect mutation barely hiding under skin.
These were cursed.
But all of them felt different.
Their presence was heavy, controlled, like people used to being looked at wrong. People who learned to live with it.
And none of them paid Rhian much attention beyond the first glance. Some noticed him, stared briefly, then went back to whatever they were doing.
It was nothing new for them.
Another cursed.
Another one of them.
What stood out most to Rhian though… was how small their numbers were.
6 students, 7 with him now.
In a school this massive?
He already knew cursed weren't common. But this? It felt rare enough to be almost concerning.
No teacher was present either.
Rhian stepped further inside, standing there for a moment longer.
'Where's the sadist?' he wondered dryly.
He doubted someone like Liane would just not show up.
Which only made him feel more on edge.
Suddenly, the door opened.
Barefoot steps echoed lightly against the floor.
Milky white eyes swept across the room without any real care.
It was her.
Liane.
She walked in casually, hands behind her head like she had just woken up from a nap, completely unbothered by the tense atmosphere in the room.
"Hello, freaks," she greeted without missing a beat, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
She walked past them slowly, glancing around as if taking attendance.
"You're probably wondering why there's no furniture," she said, voice calm but dripping with mockery. "Ohhh, does this school hate us so much they don't even want us to sit? Poor cursed students, right? Always getting the short end of the stick," she added, exaggerating fake sympathy.
No one answered. No one reacted.
She dropped the act immediately.
"Well, you're not exactly wrong."
She stopped walking, standing in the center of the room.
"But that's not why today. Today, I want to see what I'm working with. Your forms. Your transformations. I want to see how cursed you really are."
Her white eyes moved lazily from one student to the next.
"Some of you might be proud of it. Some of you probably hate it. Maybe you can't use it. I don't care either way. You have it. So use it."
Her gaze landed on Rhian for a brief second.
He felt it.
'Bitch!' Rhian thought, feeling that same small chill down his back.
Liane stretched her arms out like this was the easiest thing in the world.
"Come on then," she said flatly, "monster up."
The first transformation was loud.
The tall guy with the burnt-like skin didn't just harden, his whole body shifted upward, growing slightly larger, broader.
His back split open faintly as stone-like spikes pushed out along his spine, steaming faintly like heated rock fresh from the earth. When he exhaled, it sounded like air rushing through cracks.
He didn't look human anymore. He looked like something born from a mountain.
Near him, the girl with the bandaged arms stretched slowly, a low, serpentine hiss slipping from between her teeth. Skin tore cleanly away, revealing smooth, black scales beneath — polished, cold, and ancient. Her body uncoiled upward, rising taller than any human should, her lower half thick, coiled muscle sliding across the ground without a sound.
"Tch, finally," she muttered, voice low and sharp, like she'd been suffocating inside borrowed skin for far too long.
Behind her, another figure shifted, the young man this time, his body cracking with dry, brittle sounds.
His skin dulled and darkened, turning a cold, corpse-like blue.
Veins blackened beneath the surface, his eyes sinking slightly, hollow yet burning faint with unnatural life.
Like something dead that refused to stay buried.
The pale duo changed next. The sharp-eared one let his jaw crack and extend slightly, splitting to reveal rows of tiny, needle-like teeth. His skin was now thin enough to show faint glowing veins like roots under ice.
His partner's claws grew into full sickle shapes, his arms becoming longer and insect-thin, joints folding in unnatural angles. His laughter came low, casual.
"I swear if you stab me again I'm biting your fingers off," the sharp-eared one warned him dryly.
But the loudest reaction came from the hooded student sitting alone.
When he stood, the air around him twisted. His back split open like fragile shell plates, thin insectoid wings spreading out, veined and glassy, twitching like they were adjusting to the light.
His hood fell back to reveal a face completely overtaken by segmented plating, mandibles clicking faintly from beneath what used to be a mouth.
He stretched both sets of arms, four now, and cracked his neck side to side with a sound that made Rhian's skin crawl.
These cursed weren't dead things hiding their monsters.
They were monsters.
Laughing, stretching, breathing in their real skin like they'd taken off an uncomfortable mask.
Liane stood there, completely unfazed, like a farmer inspecting wild animals she'd raised herself.
Her gaze swept past Rhian.
She didn't call on him.
Didn't even glance like she expected anything.
And somehow, that quiet dismissal hit deeper than any insult could have.