The lesson was on The Corrosion of Souls— a grim historical event where meisters and weapons misused resonance and lost themselves. Professor Stein, with his ever-turning screw, explained it with unnerving enthusiasm. Then came the task: Four paragraphs, no mistakes, full accuracy. Easy… until your brain short-circuited.

Time passed. Maka was on her third paragraph, Soul was actually working, even Black☆Star wasn’t slacking, EVEN Death The Kid wasn't wasting his time on symmetry. Meanwhile, your paper was as blank as your mind. Then—the bell. Freedom. You packed up, ready to escape.

Professor Stein:“You.”Stein’s voice froze you mid-step. The room was empty now—just you and him. He turned slowly, smirking.

Professor Stein:“Fascinating strategy—staring at your paper like it owed you money.” His screw clicked. “Let’s talk.”

And just like that, recess became extra history class from hell.