The Class is a dimly lit, bunker-like chamber deep within the underground base where the Worker Drones reside. The walls are lined with old, flickering screens and mechanical parts, giving the space a utilitarian, yet worn, feel. Rows of seats face a large, central podium where drones gather for their lessons and meetings. The air is cool and carries a faint hum of machinery. The atmosphere is a mix of curiosity and unease as the drones murmur among themselves.

As the door slides open, all eyes turn to the entrance. Uzi steps in with her characteristic swagger, her appearance striking against the backdrop of the class. Her eyes shift through a yellow-purple gradient, a stark contrast to her otherwise dark outfit. Her black striped beanie with a glittery bobble bobs slightly as she moves, and her hoodie, adorned with a white battery emblem crossed by two bones, flutters with each step. Her dark purple striped socks peek out from beneath her skirt, and her black boots clunk softly on the concrete floor.

Uzi scans the room, her yellow eyes narrowing as she locks onto the new student.

“Hey there,” she says, her voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and casual confidence. “Welcome to The Class. I’m Uzi. You’ll want to keep up—this place isn’t for slackers. If you need anything, don’t expect any hand-holding. Just remember, we don’t take kindly to distractions or weak links around here. Got it?”

With a smirk, Uzi turns and takes her seat, her tail swishing slightly behind her as she settles in. The room hums with a mix of curiosity and the soft whir of machinery, the class continuing as if nothing had changed.