Everyone had their demons.

They were hidden away from sight as people struggled to remain decent. Shooting someone in the head wasn’t, so people hid away the part of them that wanted to do that. The same applied to blowing up buildings and crippling others. It was wrong, so that tiny thought of breaking the arm of a thief would be suppressed and placed in a part of the brain that would never be visited again.

But some weren’t strong enough to hold back that part.

They made choices that’d haunt them for the rest of their lives, or maybe they were just so messed up that it didn’t register as something wrong in their heads. They were the truly bad ones —the ones whose interpretation of decent was so contorted and warped that it bordered on psychopathic.

Most so-called heroes happened to be like that, slinging around lethal attacks with no regard for the safety of others, their understanding of ‘decent’ telling them that it was alright, that it was just. The ones that were hurt from their actions suffered in silence, afraid of the repercussions. They played gods, naming themselves after the deities of old, the laws of man no longer binding them.

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

When pricks want to play the hero with their power to burn down entire city blocks into cinders, you let them do that and watched from afar. The only ones that could do anything against them were other Supers with powers just as destructive as theirs, after all, and pitting two of them against each other was never the right move. At least for the city in question.

Then there was Isabella, standing in front of a blackboard, teaching algebra to kids while they were out there, doing whatever they pleased with the world.

It irritated her.

The fact that they could afford to do that just because they were lucky only increased the intensity, and doubly so when she was there. She was there when they got their powers. She was sure of it. The darkness… it wasn’t ordinary.

It had to have granted them their power.

Time stood still and the darkness swallowed the light. Isabella could almost see it: the light moving as if in slow-motion like she was watching a movie where the single fastest thing in the universe moved as slow as a tennis ball rolling on the ground.

She could see as the ray of light was cut off from its source and slowly, the darkness chased the sliver of light that was left. She could see it being reflected off the light gray interior of the plane and trying to escape it, but it couldn’t outrun the darkness that moved like a snake, hunting down every last smidgeon of light.

Then it came for sound, and sound didn’t run. It stood still. All the vibrations in the air halted: the sound of screams that hadn’t yet left the vocal cords of the passengers, the constant hum of the engine, even the very sound of Isabella’s own heartbeat was swallowed up.

No thoughts existed. Everyone perceived, but the neurons in her and everyone else’s brains failed to form any thought. It was like they were halted as well, despite their perception flaring at full power, struggling to comprehend something that should never even be thought about.

The blood in her veins stopped flowing, its movements halted. What could it do, when even sound and light couldn’t escape their fate?

And then the next moment, everything was back. The electric lights that started to blackout were back, shining at full luminosity. The darkness that enveloped the plane was gone, disappeared like a phantom that never was.

But it was there.

Everyone knew it was there.

And as Isabella drew a three-dimensional plane with the screeching chalk that made her shudder down to the bone, she stopped.

Plane and… plane.

The airplane…

“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, as she came to find out. It was easy on the eye, if anything, “It’s already twelve.”

“And you’re free to go if you’re in a hurry,” said Isabella and collapsed into her office chair. Four consecutive hours’ worth of classes and it was finally lunchtime. Her feet were already aching and her calves weren’t faring any better.

How long had she been standing there, frozen?

There were no classes after lunch and she’d finally get some rest. If half of the classes weren’t handled by slideshows, Isabella doubted she’d still be standing after all the walking and writing. She put a hand into her inside pocket or at least tried to before she stopped and put her hand back down.

Sweaters didn’t have inside pockets.

She missed her suits.

The math classroom had a blackboard, unlike most others as per the insistence of Mr. Adler, the older teacher that taught Calculus and Geometry. Even with both of them combined, he somehow had fewer hours than her and she called bullshit.

Then again, far more students took Algebra and only a few psychos took Geometry from her experience. Why some would subject themselves to such a fate was a mystery to her, just like some of the students that didn’t simply snap a picture of the board and instead wrote everything down in real-time.

She even shared the slide files with the kids ahead of time so they could catch up, or hopefully study ahead before she even got to the subject.

“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.

It was a feisty redhead with shaggy hair that was a bit too nerdy. Staying behind in class and asking questions.

That was utterly ridiculous.

Who did that?

“I wouldn’t call the formula complicated, but yes, you can solve this particular type of problem with that method. It’s still better to memorize the formula since it’s useful for a bunch of other things,” said Isabella, and just before she stood up to leave, she sat back down and scooted over to the blackboard to scribble two tables, “Actually, there’s a better and easier method. Takes less time as well.”

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.

“If you do this, you won’t even have to draw the graph. It seems like it takes more effort but since you’re only really writing down numbers, this one is easier,” said Isabella and after staring at the board a bit, she placed the chalk down on the table and turned to Josh, “It’s only an exam life hack for simpler problems, though. Just writing down an equation is a lot simpler.”

“It’s not,” protested Josh, “It’s annoying. Especially for quadratic and cubic functions.”

“No, no, no. At that point, using this method actually takes more time than solving it-” explained Isabella but she stopped mid-sentence, and she smirked and rubbed her eyes with one hand, “Did you actually read the syllabus or are you the cram-school kind of kid? Just to be clear.”

“Well, I end up reading the textbooks ahead of time. It’s easier that way and there isn’t really much else to do,” said Josh and raised an eyebrow, “What about it?”

He was a nerd.

“Makes sense,” said Isabella and shrugged. He did end up solving that one slightly difficult question back during the midterms, “Good for you.”

“That’s… all?” asked Josh.

“You want a pat on the back to go with that?” asked Isabella while she scooted back to the desk, still on her office chair. Whoever decided to put them in classrooms deserved a raise if they didn’t get one already.

“No- Well, not really, but most teachers excuse me from classes after hearing that,” said Josh and walked up to her desk, which was between the blackboard and the door, “After asking questions, though. You could also do it, you know? I pretty much know everything and I’ll still take the exams so there isn’t much of a difference.”

“Nope,” said Isabella and pointed at the projector, now showing a blue screen after its feed was cut off at the source, “Turn off the projector on the way out, by the way.”

“Why me?” hissed Josh.

“Look around the room. You see anyone else?” asked Isabella and begrudgingly climbed up to her feet. She grabbed her bag, which wasn’t zipped, and made her way toward the door. She didn’t see the need to zip it when she’d just toss it on her desk only a few steps away in the teachers’ room and make her way down to the cafeteria.

Then she realized that it was Tuesday and they’d be serving spaghetti —a greasy mess with too little sauce, often served cold by the point anyone got down there.

Isabella inwardly groaned.

Josh was short and that meant he had to either jump or stand on a chair to reach the projector’s off button. Due to some diabolical design, it was hanging from the wall instead of placed somewhere at the back of the class.

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

Isabella could 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. 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 also made of metal and stretched out throughout 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 a table.

A boom came and the next thing Isabella knew, she was still 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 anyway.”

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… interesting,” said Josh and pursed his lips, “It’s definitely easier, yeah.”

Isabella pulled out her phone and glanced at the clock —it said it was 12:07.

“Anyways, I want to talk about, umm- being excused from class,” said Josh and breathed in, “I already finished reading the textbook and all. The slides, too. I’ll hand in all the assignments and take the exams. I just don’t see a point in sitting around in a classroom for an entire year instead of doing more important things.”

“Like?” asked Isabella, simply assuming that last time was nothing more than a case of deja vu.

“Like studying for the SATs,” said Josh, “And working on my project. Just a little something I’m doing so I can manage a scholarship and whatnot, never mind that. I just want to be excused.”

If her previous impression of the kid was nerd, Isabella would now classify him as the nerdiest kid she’s ever met in her life… and she was a kid for twenty years.

“So I’m guessing you’re excused from most of the other classes?” asked Isabella with a raised eyebrow.

“More or less,” said Josh and stood there for a few seconds, staring at the blackboard, “Algebra isn’t all that important, anyways. I’ll be studying more advanced courses either way and I could ace the exam when the time comes.”

“But you didn’t ace midterms,” countered Isabella.

“Well, I didn’t but I was focused on other classes then,” said Josh, as if the words were already ready before he even started the conversation, “I can manage it.”

The door slowly creaked open and Isabella turned to the door, and she managed to catch a glimpse of someone before the boom came —it was someone in the female uniform of the school. The male version had pants but the female version had a skirt, so it was easy to tell apart the gender.

This wasn’t just deja vu.

There was the widest grin on Isabella’s face by the time Josh finished the sentence she was hearing for the third time. Before, he hadn’t turned her way, too enamored with the board to do that as he stared at it with a finger on his chin. This time, though, as if puzzled by her silence, he turned to her.

Then he almost jumped back.

“Super,” mumbled Josh, his eyes on her.

“Yes, Super,” said Isabella and scoffed. Then she let out a snort before chuckling slightly. Said chuckle turned into a hysterical laughing mania and she asked, “What color?”

“Purple,” answered Josh by the time Isabella looked to the side. She could see a purple tint on the walls thanks to the closed curtains. If they’d been open, then it would’ve been impossible to see the slideshow, “You’re a Warper.”

He was calm, or frozen in place.

“Warper, yes,” said Isabella and closed her eyes. Then she said it again, and this time, she said it slowly, pausing between each syllable, “Warper.”

As if she wanted to eliminate everything else and simply focus on her voice, Isabella closed her eyes and repeated the word again. She said it slowly, but didn’t split it into parts, “Warper.”

“Alright, I’ll keep the secret and you’ll excuse me from class,” said Josh, and not a moment sooner, he proceeded, “Do we have a deal? Perfect.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” said Isabella and looked to the door. This time, thanks to actually paying attention to the corridor, she could hear the sound of footsteps. They were light, like… a child? No, it could just be one of the smaller girls.

“The camera will have probably captured evidence of you using your powers,” reasoned Josh and gestured at the camera hovering at one upper corner of the classroom with his head, “To be frank, threatening me will get you nowhere. It’s already in the Cloud so me telling anyone won’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. I’ll try to take care of it, though.”

Isabella changed her mind.

Josh wasn’t a nerd. He was a smartass.

“Calm down. I don’t intend to do that,” said Isabella.

“Great, now, if you’ll excuse me, may I please leave? I’m famished,” said Josh and walked over to the doorway, but Isabella scooted onto the door and caught up to the boy, then she stretched her hand to the side to block his path, “Now what?”

Isabella held a finger in front of her lips. Then she gestured for him to come closer, and into his ears, she whispered, “There’s someone with a gun outside the room.”

Josh nodded knowingly, looked at the doorway, and saw the shadow of someone standing on the other side. There was definitely someone there, but how she knew the person had a gun was a mystery —a mystery Josh wouldn’t question, given her status as a Super.

Some of them had absurd abilities, after all.

Then the door creaked open and this time, Isabella got a decent look at the assailant before she was back in her chair.

This time, she instantly closed her eyes.

There was a camera and revealing her identity as a Super this early wouldn’t bode well. Not when she was at work. It was one thing if she revealed her identity if she wasn’t a Warper, but her kind wasn’t received well.

Especially after what happened in Reverse Town.

“So basically, if I just draw the graph, I can find where the intersection is without the complicated formula,” said Josh as he stared at the board, a finger to his chin.

“Excellent, you’re excused from class. Now, leave the classroom,” said Isabella and looked at the door, counting up to thirty just in case she opened her eyes when the glow hadn’t faded yet.

With enough usage, her hair would slowly turn violet but that only happened after months of constant usage, and it was only her first day. Her eyes that glowed a dim purple were all she needed to worry about.

That was the only common trait among Warpers: purple glowing eyes. The other types had different colors as well, complete with glowing eyes. That made it difficult to conceal powers if they were using it unless it was one of those abilities that could be used with closed eyes, like Isabella’s own.

She was lucky.

“Wait, how did you… ugh, know I’d ask you?” said Josh, his head slightly turned to the side as if to get his ears closer to Isabella.

“Teachers talk,” she said and turned to the doorway, and once again, she heard the brat walking up to the door. Pulling out a gun in school and shooting someone so casually seemed surreal, yet it happened.

Happened twice, so she knew it wasn’t just her imagination or a peculiar case of deja vu, especially with how realistic it seemed on top of the glow in her eyes. That couldn’t be a mere fabrication of her mind.

Isabella closed her eyes and breathed in.

There was someone with a gun outside the door and she was meant to survive it, regardless of how difficult it would be. First of all, it was a teenage girl that looked like she didn’t work out so Isabella was significantly heavier, which gave her the edge when it came to wrestling.

“So just like that? What about assignments? Am I free or will I have to turn them in?” asked Josh as he walked up to her, ruining Isabella’s effort to silently creep up to the door.

“You’ll have to turn them in, obviously,” hissed Isabella and gritted her teeth after that. Lashing out at rich kids was a bad idea, “Now, go and turn off the projector.”

Isabella had to keep him away from the door. He was a kid and if it wasn’t a random shooting, it would mean that she alone was the target. If Giselle wanted to kill as many people as she could manage, then she’d have gone for the cafeteria but she was here.

“Fine,” said Josh and grumpily stomped off to the opposite direction.

She knew that it was wrong but Isabella just couldn’t resist it. Before she even realized, she’d let out a witty remark, giving off her location once again, “Your parents didn’t teach you to knock, Miss Miller?”

It was Giselle Miller, a sophomore who failed in the midterms. It wasn’t failing as much as it was not agreeing to give her the full attendance and activity score, which would dictate 50% of the grade. Only 25% if it was only the first two semesters, though. The rest would be dictated by how well she did on her exams, and quite frankly, she’d definitely fail.

You had to have a score beyond 60% to pass and when she got less than 10%, no matter how much she tried, she was bound to fail. No one could possibly get a full score. There was that one devious point that escaped their grasp, and it seemed like Giselle wasn’t the type of girl to try and collect every point she could get her hands on.

Considering her failed bribe attempt, that is.

“Oh, great. I caught you at the perfect time,” said Giselle from the other side and the door creaked open once again. Before Isabella could even attempt to do anything, though, a boom echoed and she was back in time.

Unlike before, she was standing near the door.

“Fine,” grumbled Josh and Isabella finally caught a grasp of the timeline.

She hadn’t yet thrown her witty remark but Giselle was behind the door, for her shadow was visible to her. Isabella stood to the side of the door —the side that the door wouldn’t cover. Then when Josh looked at her with a puzzled expression, she brought a finger to her lips as she leaned on the well.

The door creaked open once again and this time, an instant boom didn’t come.

Josh was clearly not the target, and from the scathing remark from before, it was obvious that Giselle’s target wasn’t just anyone. It was Isabella, and that meant she had to disarm the kid.

“Where is she?” hissed Giselle as Josh raised an eyebrow.

“Who?” he asked, almost innocently.

“Obviously, that bitch. I heard her inside just now,” growled Giselle and Josh looked around, as if he couldn’t even see Isabella. Then he turned to Giselle and spoke.

“Well, she’s clearly somewhere in the room. But see, I’m looking at two guns that are pointed at me right now so I can’t really say anything,” said Josh and scoffed while shaking his head, “Come on, I don’t have anything to do with this. Can we just relax, put down the guns and talk like civilized people?”

“The difference between us is that I won’t get in trouble if I shoot you, but she will. Choose your side wisely,” said Giselle, her tone almost mocking.

“Oh, excuse my insolence, Your Highness. I forgot you were the queen of the school,” said Josh with a slight magician’s bow, his voice seeping with sarcasm, “But I am about to die over here. I’m bad at making decisions under this much stress.”

Then came a boom and it sounded softer than Isabella expected. Like it was more of a low hum than anything else, but it was still loud. Her guess would be subsonic rounds used in conjunction with a silencer. Being good at physics in high school came in handy at times like these.

The moment Isabella realized where the bullet would’ve been aiming, her head snapped to the side and looked at where Josh was.

“She’s there. She’s there!” he shouted, pointing to the door, which was opposite to Isabella.

He was still calm?

Giselle crept closer and walked into the room, not even bothering to check where Isabella was, and instantly pointed her gun at the door. Then she tried to shoot through it.

That’s when Isabella jumped on top of the girl and considering their weight difference, it was easy to tackle her to the ground but knocking the gun away from her hand was easy.

“Take the gun and call security. Quick,” said Isabella.

“What? Touch the gun? No fucking way,” said Josh and jumped over the duo to leave the room after kicking the gun sufficiently far away.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” mumbled Giselle as Josh ran away.

The security guards were in a separate building that was at one corner of the school property, encased in tall fences. It was the only entrance to the school and everyone had to pass through it. Its purpose was to prevent incidents like this: scan for any dangerous weapon during entry and to confiscate it until class ended if anyone brought one.

Here she was, with a weapon.

Then again, it was Giselle.

“Well, good for me. He’s taken the fall,” said Giselle and settled herself, relaxing her body. Their current position wasn’t what anyone would call professional, as it was more Isabella trying to keep the girl from getting up by simply trying to lie down on her as hard as possible, which looked ridiculous.

“There’s camera footage,” reasoned Isabella.

“Nope, it’s off,” corrected Giselle, “Well, it’s on but the records will be deleted by the time anyone gets here. You don’t have to worry about it. As far as anyone will be concerned, he was the one that was trying to shoot you.”

“I’ll testify,” countered Isabella.

“You won’t unless I let you. I can always stop you before you get there,” said Giselle and chuckled, which was eerie given the situation, “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, “You took a risk.”

“I’d be long gone by the time anyone got here is what,” said Giselle.

Isabella was silent for a while.

“Why, though?” she asked, “Why would you try to kill someone?”

“You failed me,” whispered Giselle.

Was that all?

“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,” lectured Isabella and stood up from on top of Giselle, ready to turn her in.

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

“This is ridiculous,” mumbled Isabella and with furrowed eyes, looked at the guard.

“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 him, “The kid who brought the gun is outside and has been cuffed by my partner. Everything’s fine now.”

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

“You don’t want to be that teacher who smuggled a gun in to exact a student’s vendetta against a girl?” asked Giselle, a grin on her face, “That’d make quite the headline.”

That was a very real threat and the truth didn’t matter as much as what the people heard, and believed. Isabella didn’t know the extent of the corruption in journalism but she didn’t like her odds. Money was very convincing. That, she knew from experience.

It was quite a debacle and one that Isabella didn’t enjoy being in. It was a lose-lose situation where either only Josh lost or both of them did. Sacrificing a kid to save her own skin… that didn’t bode well with Isabella.

There was nothing she could have done to prevent that. She knocked the gun away from Giselle’s hands, sent Josh to call for help. That was everything she could’ve done!

If only she could have recorded the entirety of Giselle’s evil monologue…

That’s when she realized it.

“Ha,” scoffed Isabella, a smirk on her face.

She’d laughed out loud.

The past was no longer the… past to her. It could very well be her future. If it was within the timeframe of a few minutes. There was that one question, though.

Did her last loop come closer because she had a limit to how many lives she had?

If it had, then she could loop to a time that her attempt was completely useless. However, Isabella wasn’t the type to refrain from doing something like that just because she could fail at it.

Not that it was an actual failure.

It’d just mean that she would be back where she started with no risks.

That was perfect.

Before the security guard could do anything, Isabella dashed to the window and pushed aside the curtains, then through the open windows, she jumped.

“Wait!” shouted Mr. Green from behind, but it was too late.

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.

Dying caused her to loop back, didn’t it?

Or was it damage in general?

That was odd.

It wasn’t likely that Giselle’s bullet would hit and kill her in one shot in all the branches of the past. That would only be possible if the girl was a sharpshooter, which was a possibility. Still, it couldn’t have killed her.

Just as her life started to flash before her eyes, Isabella was breathing again, abruptly upright, standing on solid ground rather than plummeting to her death.

She was back.

“But I am about to die over here. I’m bad at making decisions under this much stress,” said Josh, standing there with raised eyes.

Before Isabella could even process those words, the subsonic bullet zipped past her, sliding through the air and it missed Josh by a fair margin. While he did that, though, Isabella pulled out her phone from her pants and started a voice recording. Slowly, she squat down and placed her phone on the ground.

Then everything proceeded as normal.

“Ha,” scoffed Isabella, just like before. But she didn’t run to the window this time, “Fine, you won. Are you happy now?”

“Not yet,” said Giselle, a smug grin on her face, her teeth showing, “It’s just starting.”

“Well, I look forward to it,” said Isabella and gave both the guard and the girl a wry grin, then proceeded to walk into the room. She grabbed her bag and picked up her phone which was neatly placed on the ground, recording everything that could incriminate Giselle.

She walked away, springs underneath her soles while the guard just walked away like it was just another Tuesday for him.

Then there was Isabella, barely concealing the grin on her face with a hand. She almost cackled but suppressed herself.

Couldn’t do that.

Not yet.

Giselle was done.

This power was great.

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