Mark, admittedly, was in an embarrassing position. He'd not been saddled with the lowest possible rank he could, or even within the lowest 10% of the year group... but some comfort that was when he was lumped in with them anyway. It wasn't called the Bot Five, after all. Bottom it was, anyhow: he'd not been properly prepared, and he had paid for it with few robot kills, not to mention that turbine asshole's dick move screwing him over, and now the other students had even more reasons to isolate him than before. He was already a gross fly person, why did he need to be considered academically inept too? What a pain.

And they, along with what looked like just over a dozen other students, had been called out to the East Track Field. Where there was fucking [i]nothing.[/i] No teachers, no equipment, just the Bottom Ten in their uniforms- he'd made damn sure his own armour was properly put on, so he could at least make a better second impression than first- and a bunch of other poor sons of bitches, inexplicably including at least a couple of Top Ten students. No doubt they were there to... he didn't know, "bolster morale" or something. More likely to tell them they all stunk, if he was right on the money about their being cocky.

Either way, they were devoid of teachers. Maybe they'd be left alone for fifteen minutes, and get to skip the rest of the class. For now, though, he'd be a flipping dumbass and make himself obvious: flying upward a couple of meters just to get over the other student's heads, he hovered roughly in one spot, trying to look about and see whether anybody else was about at all. Maybe hidden in the treeline or something?