"Alright, teammates, here's the rundown!"
Dante announced boldly, towering before his group of seated, slightly slouched teammates. His tone held the energy of a motivational speech only it was clear from the way he looked at them, there was no real motivation involved.
To put it mildly? Every last one of them was utter garbage.
By Eldora's standards of skill and promise, these students barely qualified as footnotes. If there was a chart measuring potential, they'd rank somewhere below the margin, marked with a hopeful asterisk that read: Maybe, just maybe, there's something buried deep inside. Perhaps, with time, they might surprise us.
It was under that flimsy excuse that the E-rank class had been formed. A patchwork team of hopefuls, or more realistically, a collection of underachievers. Wastes of space clinging to the prayer that some hidden spark of greatness might one day erupt from their otherwise mundane beings.
