Everyone had their demons but those of Supers were stronger. They were unhinged, with nothing to keep them in check but other Supers. It was like they were beyond ordinary humans. They acted like they deserved more.

Even the so-called heroes named themselves after the gods of old in their misguided arrogance and deemed themselves beyond the law, acting as judge and jury.

The world bent over for them, too afraid to fight back but it was understandable.

When a prick wanted to play the hero with his power to burn down an entire city block into cinders, you let him do that and watched from afar. The only ones that could do anything against him were other Supers with powers just as destructive as his.

It was irritating, seeing others having so much authority over the world while Isabella was stuck teaching algebra to kids. Doubly so when the sole reason they had such status was because they were lucky. Triply so when they were at the same place at the exact same time when it happened.

And more than half of them got powers from the accident.

“Umm, Mrs. Blair,” said one of the students. He was in a uniform like everyone else. It was a private school. Private schools loved their uniforms, “It’s already twelve.”

“And you’re free to go if you’re in a hurry,” said Isabella and collapsed back into her chair. Four consecutive hours’ worth of classes and it was finally lunchtime.

She wasn’t relieved because it was lunchtime, though. She was relieved because she didn’t have classes after lunch but she’d still have to clock out at five. There was no problem with that, though. That meant she could grade the quizzes she’d taken from the sophomores yesterday and getting work done at work meant less working at home.

It let her invest all that time in her hobbies.

One by one, they started to leave. One of them was left behind, scribbling down what was written on the blackboard. Why he didn’t take a picture of the board puzzled her but it was his business, not hers.

Even more of a mystery was why the math classroom still had a blackboard but she could chalk it up to sharing it with the walking fossil that taught calculus. The principal respected the old man and Isabella only started half a year ago so it was his word over hers. And having both wasn’t an option.

She liked her black suits but was forced to compromise by wearing a yellowish-white sweater to deal with all the chalk dust, but she was starting to love the comfort that it brought.

“So basically, if I just draw the graph, I can find where the intersection is without the complicated formula,” said Josh with narrowed eyes after he came up to the board, the only kid in class that tried to take the easy way out. It was a refreshing perspective, though.

“Exactly, unless you’re trying to find the function of another line that’ll intersect with the other one. It’s a good idea to learn it but not a necessity when solving a problem,” said Isabella and scooted over to the blackboard to scribble two tables.

It was a simple one that depicted the value of Y based on what X was equal to for both of the linear functions. After that, she circled a column on both the tables, then she tapped on the board with her chalk.

“See that? If you do this, you don’t even have to draw the graph. You can just figure it out from the tables,” said Isabella and scooted over to the table again, “It’s just an exam life hack if you’re only studying algebra for the SATs. Well, I guess it’s for just about anything that’ll require you to solve an intersection problem on which you don’t want to waste much time on.”

“Shit, that’s easy,” mumbled Josh.

“Language,” said Isabella offhandedly and closed her laptop, which was still connected to the monitor. After it closed, the monitor lost its feed and showed its blank blue feed with a big, bold ‘DISCONNECTED’ at the center, “Turn that off on the way out.”

“Why me?” he grumbled.

“Because I said so. That, and you swore,” said Isabella as she put the laptop into a small briefcase. She didn’t bother zipping it up. After all, she’d have to unzip it after placing it in the teachers’ room that wasn’t even half a corridor away.

And that meant it was close.

“Everyone says that,” he countered.

“Yes, but you happened to say that when you were the last one in the classroom so that’s the only swear that matters,” she said, “You hear anyone else swearing right now?”

Josh was short so that meant he had to either jump or put a chair under himself to reach the projector’s off button. Due to some brilliant design, which one would use to describe the design as strictly sarcastically, it was hanging from the wall instead of being placed somewhere at the back of the class.

Despite this major flaw, it didn’t have a remote.

Isabella could maybe reach it if she stood up on her toes but why would she do that when she could order around the kids?

She heard him drag a chair to the projector, which was no easy feat, quite frankly. The desks were meant for two students each and the chairs behind them were joined together by two pipes of metal. On top of that, the legs were made of metal and stretched out through the entire length of the chair after it reached the ground, meaning that it was far heavier than it had any right to be.

In fact, dragging the table around would be easier but it had a slight slope that would make it dangerous to stand on. Most resorted to chairs and that was for the better. Being a bit more tired was better than falling from atop a table.

There came a loud sound and the next thing she noticed, she was back on her chair.

“So basically, if I just draw the graph, I can find where the intersection is without the complicated formula,” said Josh with narrowed eyes, standing next to the board once again. His hand was on his chin and he was stroking an invisible goatee.

“Huh?” she mumbled.

“What? You didn’t know that?” asked Josh.

That broke Isabella out of her stupor.

“No, no. I just expected more from you,” said Isabella and scooted over to the board once again and drew the same table, then circled the same columns as before, “You can just use a table like this. It’s easier and saves more time. It’s an exam life hack but try to learn the formula.”

This wasn’t the first deja vu she’d experienced but it was too vivid to be called that, as if she was shot back in time.

“That’s… easier. I didn’t see that,” said Josh and nodded his head, his hand still on his chin. Then his eyes locked onto hers and narrowed even further, however that was possible. His mouth opened slightly and he raised a finger. Then he froze for a few seconds before finally moving again, which made him point straight at her face, “Y-your eyes. They’re glowing. Like, actually glowing. Litera-”

The door slowly creaked open and she turned to look that way. Not a moment sooner, another boom sounded out and she was back on her chair.

“So basically, if I just draw the graph, I can find where the intersection is without the complicated formula,” said Josh again, his eyes locked onto the blackboard.

It was peculiar how with every time she’d seen this same scene, she was picking up more details.

“Look at me,” said Isabella, a small smirk on her face as she spun on the office chair to face Josh.

This was too odd to be a mere coincidence and that remark about glowing eyes. If she wasn’t mistaken and if returning to the same moment twice in a row wasn’t the most severe case of deja vu one could experience, then it could only have one answer.

“Huh? Why?” he groaned and slowly turned to her, rolling his eyes as he did so. But once again, their eyes connected and he was frozen. Slowly, his mouth opened, and just like before, a few seconds after that, he pointed at her and stuttered, “Y-your eyes. They’re glowing. Lit- literally.”

“They’re glowing,” she said and let out a scoff, “They’re actually glowing.”

She pulled out her phone from her pocket and took a glance at herself in the reflection, and there, Isabella saw her eyes gleaming a purple light. It reflected off the black screen and could be easily made out.

“Oh, shit. You’re a fucking Super,” said Josh and stepped away slightly, “Like, literally Super.”

“Language,” said Isabella but she was too busy looking at herself in the mirror that was her phone screen to care.

“Yeah, yeah. I am a Super,” said Isabella and hopped up to her feet, a spring beneath her heels, “I’m a Super.”

“Ah! The plane. You were on the plane too!” said Josh and shook his head. He rubbed his forehead and slowly sunk back to one of the seats, hands raised, “So umm, am I in trouble? Should I like… keep this thing a secret?”

“Okay, I see, I see. It’s interesting,” said Isabella and nodded her head a few times. She walked up to the door and took a glance at the digital clock on her phone after clicking on the power button, which she was still holding in her hand.

It was 12:07.

The door creaked open and this time, the one that opened it jumped back.

It was a girl with long cocoa hair that reached her neck, tied up into a neat ponytail. She wore the uniform: a black jacket with red lines around the collars and the edges along with a skirt that reached her knees, the bottom of which was lined with red lines. Adjacent to the heart, there was the insignia of a red trident.

Isabella knew who she was.

In her hand was a pistol, aimed straight at Isabella.

The boom came again.

“So basically, if I just draw the graph, I can find where the intersection is without the complicated formula,” said Josh, and this time, Isabella could see that his eyes were bloodshot around the edges. They were glassy and glimmered in the electric lights, for the curtains were closed for the slideshow to be actually visible.

Natural light on a sunny day was far brighter than that of electric light and it ended up making what the projector showed on the white cloth next to the blackboard, which served as a screen for the projector, invisible.

She pulled out her phone, not even minding the question, and simply said, “Use a table.”

It was 12:04.

That meant that everything had happened in 3 minutes.

“That’s… I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” said Josh and stomped once. He scratched his head vigorously and turned to the door.

He almost left the classroom but turned on his heels and walked back to the desk closest to the projector without even paying a mind to her eyes, actively looking away from her, “Actually, I should turn this thing off.”

“Well, that’s sweet of you,” said Isabella slowly as she took a glance at the clock again.

It was 12:06 and that left her with anything between a minute and two minutes. The clock on the lock screen didn’t show the seconds, after all. She couldn’t tell what time it was exactly.

This time, she could hear soft steps coming nearer amidst the sound of Josh dragging a chair to the projector. The little gremlin that shot her was outside the door. That meant that she didn’t have much time.

Isabella sneaked up to the door, as calmly as possible.

Figuring out what her power did was a breeze. Whenever she got shot, it seemed that she was returning in time to the moment that Josh asked the question. She couldn’t feel any exhaustion so it was apparent that she wasn’t pushed her limits yet.

It was awesome.

Then she stood right behind where the door would be once opened.

“Your parents didn’t teach you to knock, Miss Miller?” asked Isabella, throwing a witty line, just for fun.

Just for fun.

The girl had a gun and Isabella was here, having fun. That brought a smile to her face. Being a Super was… fun. Intoxicating, even. Not being afraid of a gun in the least, knowing that it could do nothing to her. Even if it did, she’d just have another chance.

There came a boom and the next thing she knew, she wasn’t back in her chair.

She was already standing and was on her way to the door. A sneak glance at her phone showed her that it was 12:07.

Was she getting exhausted?

That could be the reason that she jumped only a few seconds back in time rather than minutes. It meant that she didn’t have an infinite amount of lives and that made her almost stop in her tracks.

The door slowly creaked open and once she caught the brat’s face, the boom came.

Once again, standing in her position from before, which was 3 steps away from the door. She could almost feel Giselle standing outside that door, with the gun in her hand. Soon, the door would creak open and the gun would be shot.

Whether she’d be on the receiving end of it remained to be seen, though, and this time, it wouldn’t be.

Isabella couldn’t play around if she was truly exhausted. She had time at the moment —time she wouldn’t have if she kept returning looping to where she started, exhausting her powers more and more. That meant at some point, she’d die and there’d be no time to avoid it.

The door started to creak open and Isabella stepped aside, toward the side that wasn’t covered with the door. Slowly, Giselle walked in, holding the gun in her hands. She was using both hands to hold it and was aiming it straight forward, her arms fully extended.

“Where is she?” asked Giselle from the corridor outside.

The question was directed at Josh who abruptly raised both hands and stepped back. He visibly shrunk back and stuttered out, “W-who?”

“Obviously, that bitch. I heard her inside just now,” hissed Giselle. Before Josh could open his mouth, she added, “You lie and I’ll use your head for target practice. And trust me, I’ve practiced enough with this thing.”

“Y-yeah. She’s behind the door,” said Josh quickly and visibly gulped.

“Oh, there she is, then,” hummed Giselle, and quite loudly, she continued, “If you try to close the door or pull anything smart, I’ll put a bullet in his head. You don’t want that, do you?”

Wallowing in her strength and arrogance, Giselle stepped in, not assuming for a second that Josh had lied. Slowly, but surely, she made her way past the door, failing to look behind her.

That was when Isabella jumped in and rather awkwardly, she managed to catch Giselle from behind and knock the gun out of her hand. Using her slightly heavier body, she managed to push her to the ground and land atop her.

That’s how Isabella herself would have described it but anyone with at least a tiny bit of fighting experience, or rather, anyone with eyes, would see that it wasn’t her pushing Giselle to the ground as much as her tripping and dragging the student down to the ground with her.

“Call security, quick,” said Isabella, and Josh nodded eagerly.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Giselle, but Josh didn’t listen to her. He broke off in a sprint and jumped over the two women lying atop each other in a rather uncomfortable manner. After Josh had left, Giselle continued, “Oh, my. He’s taken the fall for me.”

“And why is that?” asked Isabella.

By now, she was fully aware that the younger girl wasn’t trying to fight back.

“Because the camera feed is disabled and I bought off the security,” said Giselle and chuckled slightly, “As the law will see it, it’s him who was trying to shoot you.”

“I’ll testify,” said Isabella.

“You won’t unless I let you. I can delay you before you reach the courtroom,” said Giselle, “Even if you do, I’ll have bought off the judge. You’ll be late and poor little Josh will be taking the fall, just because he tried to get help.”

“Yet you’re here, trying to kill me with your own hands. Something tells me that your father doesn’t let you get away with everything. You didn’t have his men do it for you, after all,” said Isabella.

“Oh, he does let me get away with stuff. As long as it’s too late to stop the actions, that is,” said Giselle and she scoffed, “You can get off me now, Miss Blair. I’ve already won the game. In fact, dad might just have his men get rid of you now that it’s come to this.”

“What if there was no one to pin it on?” she asked.

“Oh, but I knew there would be. With how much of a crush poor little Josh has on you. There’s no way he wouldn’t be with you today,” said Giselle.

That kid? Crushing on a teacher?

Isabella scoffed at that.

“What? Didn’t know? I suppose that’s why you’re still single with those looks of yours,” said Giselle, “But I suppose there’s that personality of yours too. Doesn’t really shout girlfriend material, you know?”

“I have to ask? Why, though? Because I failed you last semester?” asked Isabella and slowly shook her head, “That takes salty to a whole new level.”

“You failed me!” she screeched, her tone taking an instant turn from her calm and composed one. She forced her neck up and spat up, which failed and fell back down on her cheek, but Giselle didn’t care about that, “Do you know how much I suffered because of you? All my allowance taken away! I lost all my friends! And… dad hit me because of you!”

“Should’ve studied better, then,” said Isabella.

Giselle scrunched up her nose, opened her mouth as if to say something, and closed it after failing to articulate what she wanted to say. Or perhaps she realized it was too dumb to say out loud.

“That’s it? That’s all of it? That’s all it takes to make you kill a person?” asked Isabella after a minute of silence, exasperated.

“That’s all?” parroted Giselle slowly, as if tasting each word and then far quicker, she said, “That’s all, you ask? You ruined my life. You broke my whole… image and- and you ask me, that’s all? Let me tell you. That’s everything I had. You took it away.”

“You’re unbelievable,” mumbled Isabella.

“No, you are,” she screamed out, tears streaming down her eyes and her voice cracked, “You’re the one in the wrong! You failed me. You didn’t take the bribe. You snitched on dad. It’s all your fault!”

“Money isn’t everything,” said Isabella.

“But it is,” said Giselle, “When you have money, you can do anything.”

“What happens when your father dies, then? How are you going to make money? Do you think it grows on trees? You’ll have to work for it and what will you have then?” asked Isabella and after a few moments of silence, she explained, “You’ll have your head. That’s why you have to study. So you can make money at all.”

It was quiet until security came.

There were two guards at school, both of them armed. With the frightening amount of Supers in the town, it was a necessity to have them, though not many of them would even bother attacking schools. However, it was better safe than sorry.

“To use that money at all, you have to stay innocent,” said Isabella and stood up from her with security behind her, “You aren’t innocent now.”

“I am, though,” said Giselle as she dusted her clothes, finally up to her feet, “The good cop’s outside with Josh. Isn’t that right, Mr. Green?”

“This is ridiculous,” said Isabella and shook her head.

“She’s clearly innocent, Miss Blair,” said the grumpy big guy that stood next to her. It was like those shades were a part of his face with how much he wore them. Even if Isabella was a Super that could return to the past and take her chances, there was no way that she’d be able to beat this one, “The kid with the gun is outside and has been cuffed by my partner. Everything’s fine now.”

It was one thing to tackle a kid that barely attended P.E and it was another thing to down a grown man with a gun.

Almost everyone was in the cafeteria in another wing and if the camera feed was wiped clean, then they could frame Josh after downing her. But the timeframe wouldn’t match, so she was safe… probably safe.

Even if she did die, Isabella could return to the point when she was standing near the door and then tell Josh to call for the principal without touching the gun.

That could save both him and her, but she didn’t like her chances. If she did return in time and it was too late, then she’d have wasted a perfectly good opportunity to walk away scot-free by antagonizing them.

Unless she could record the entirety of Giselle’s evil monologue…

Yeah, she could do that.

Isabella took a deep breath and walked back into the room, headed straight for the window. She pushed the curtains aside and hopped onto the windowsill, then she opened the window.

“Hey, what are you-” started the security guard but Isabella had already jumped.

The wind ripped through her hair and made it latch onto her face as she did so. There was a small sense of fear. A part of her thought of what would happen if she didn’t die and simply mutilated herself, just like that. Another part of her thought what would happen if her power would return to her to a point at which jumping to her death wasn’t necessary, say, after the security guard was already there.

The next thing she knew, she was atop Giselle as she started her monologue.

“Oh, my. He’s taken the fall for me,” she said and Isabella humored her, getting her admission of guilt as an audio recording.

When the security guard came this time, she tried to open her jacket to put her phone in but realized that she was wearing a sweater. Inwardly, she cursed for not wearing a suit but placed it into her pant pockets.

“Fine, you won,” said Isabella through her teeth, acting as if she was angry, “Are you happy now?”

“Not yet,” said Giselle, waving her hand slowly as Isabella entered the teachers’ room.

Bingo.

Giselle was done.

That put a grin on Isabella’s face.

This power was great. Perfect, even.

It made her feel like she was invincible, and maybe, just maybe… she was.