"You know what? I don’t care anymore!" Alexia blurted out, her voice echoing in the room as she threw her hands up in exasperation. "I’m just gonna live my life like nothing ever happened."
Without a second thought, she yanked out her phone, the determination in her eyes hardening with every passing second. "First step—buy myself a nice, sweet ride!"
She scrolled through endless listings, her fingers tapping rapidly on the screen as she searched for the perfect car. After a while, her eyes lit up. "That’s it. The GoldenBull Hurricane XS600. Sporty and futuristic design, 700 horsepower, all-wheel drive, scissor doors, super sleek interior, and pretty reliable for a supercar. All for 489k credits."
A satisfied grin spread across her face, but before she could revel in her decision, she heard frantic footsteps rushing toward her office. The door swung open, and Clayton burst in, panting heavily, his face pale with urgency.
“Alex... Alex...” he huffed, trying to catch his breath. “Did you see the news?” He pointed toward the TV, still struggling for air. “The giant pit… it might be related to your case. The timing is too much of a coincidence.”
Alexia barely glanced up from her phone. “I don’t care anymore, Clayton.”
He blinked, stunned. “Really? Are you sure?”
She raised her chin, the indifference almost defiant. “Yeah, 100% sure.”
Clayton stared at her, disbelief etched across his face. “So... you’re just gonna move on with your life? Just like that? You don’t want to know what brought you here?”
“Yep, I am already here, might as well enjoy it while I can, and it’s not like I love what I was doing back in my world, I did horrible things, truly disturbing things, eh whatever, I don’t want to talk about it” she replied, her voice casual.
“....By the way, I just decided what car I’m getting.” She held up the phone, showing him the sleek, futuristic design of the GoldenBull. “I’m gonna twin-turbocharge it, maybe install a widebody kit, and race it on the track every weekend.”
"What horrible things? You know what, forget it... I got you." Clayton shook his head, rubbing his forehead as if trying to wipe away what he had just heard. "Maybe this is for the best. Less stress, more fun, right? So, when are you getting this car?"
"Today. After lunch," Alexia replied with a smirk, her thoughts already racing ahead to her new life—where fast cars and carefree weekends replaced giant pits, the fact that she was isekai’d, shady organizations, and all the mysteries that had turned her world upside down. For a moment, the weight seemed to lift off her shoulders, replaced by reckless abandon.
Clayton raised an eyebrow. “Meet you after lunch, yeah?”
Just as he turned to leave, Alexia's voice stopped him. “Hey, Clayton, before you go, can we talk for a moment?”
He paused, glancing back with an exaggerated sigh. “Sure, it’s not like I’m busy running your company or anything,” he quipped, leaning against the doorframe, though there was no real bite to his words.
“Please?” she asked, her tone softening just enough to nudge at whatever patience he had left.
Clayton gave her a long look before rolling his eyes with mock irritation. “Alright, alright. Only because you asked nicely,” he said, stepping back into the room. "What's on your mind?"
“Can you tell me a little bit about your world? I need to know at least the basics if I’m going to live here,” Alexia asked, her tone more serious than usual.
Clayton gave her a nod, gesturing toward the sofa. “Fair enough,” he said as they walked over to sit. “But only the important stuff, yeah?”
“Sure, sure.” Alexia settled in, ready to absorb the information. “Well, where do I begin? Let’s start with the planet. It’s called Iterria. Sixty percent of the planet’s surface is covered by water. We’ve got four continents—two big ones, one medium, one small—and a bunch of islands scattered around. One of the big continents has only three countries on it, and they hate each other. If it weren’t for our president, they’d probably be at war by now.”
“Powerful president, I see,” Alexia chimed in, intrigued.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to that later. May I continue?”
“Sorry! Didn’t mean to cut you off.”
Clayton shot her a look but carried on. “The other big continent has 13 countries, relatively peaceful. The small one? Seven countries. They’re poor, riddled with corruption, a supervillain's paradise and not exactly places you want to visit unless you have to.”
“And where are we?” Alexia asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
“Alex!” Clayton sighed, clearly trying to keep the flow of his explanation.
“Sorry,” she muttered, holding up her hands in mock surrender.
“Some of the islands have countries on them. I don’t know the exact number—could be 10, 15, 20. Who’s counting, right? But most of them are peaceful. At least 70% of them, anyway. Our country, Vorenthia, is on one of the islands. We’ve got the biggest island—about a quarter the size of the small continent.”
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“Okay, thank you, Clayton,” Alexia said, thinking he was done.
But Clayton shook his head. “Not finished yet…"
Alexia groaned, sinking deeper into the sofa as Clayton continued. She felt like she was trapped in a lecture, but she was determined to listen—barely.
“Now, the important stuff,” Clayton began, his tone shifting into something more serious. “Not all countries allow superhumans to roam free. In fact, they tag superhumans and limit their rights. Why? Because about 60% of countries are paranoid that the supers would take over. Ironically, it’s that paranoia that led to most of the problems—pushing some supers into becoming villains and killing a bunch of people in those countries.”
Alexia couldn’t help it—she smiled brightly, clearly amused by the absurdity of it all.
Clayton noticed her expression and frowned. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Nothing,” Alexia replied, trying to suppress a laugh. “It’s just... they shot themselves in the foot with that one.”
“You’re probably right,” Clayton muttered, “but don’t laugh at it.”
“I didn’t laugh, I just smiled,” she corrected, still grinning.
“Whatever…” Clayton waved her off, though his face softened a bit. “Now, back to our own country, Vorenthia, which is what really matters. Here, supers and normal humans live in harmony. It’s a peaceful place—one of the best in the world if not the best. But what’s really interesting is that not all supers can become superheroes. And just because you’re human doesn’t mean you can’t be one either.”
Her eyes lit up, hearing this fact. Curious.
“Being a superhero here is a job, just like any other. There are tests to pass to get the license so you can actually call yourself a hero. Everyone—whether you have powers or not—can become a superhero.”
Alexia leaned forward, finally fully engaged. “That’s actually fair, and smart!”
“Yep,” Clayton nodded, “so, if you’re thinking about it, you’ve got options.”
Alexia raised an eyebrow, her smirk creeping back. “Might just add ‘superhero’ to my new life checklist. Do they get paid?”
“Yeah, just like any other job,” Clayton responded, his tone picking up. “Here, the superheroes have the same role as the police and the military. That’s why our crime rate is the lowest on the planet. For regular humans, it’s nearly impossible to outrun a superhero, and for supers, well… it’s a lot smarter to be a hero than a villain.”
Alexia tilted her head, intrigued. “Interesting. So, is that why the president is so powerful? Having supers protecting the country?”
Clayton chuckled. “No, it’s not just that. Actually, You’ve met our president. Mr. Cassian Kane—the Sunstriker, the most powerful being on the planet; physically, politically and financially.”
“Whoa, how did he become the president?” Alexia’s eyebrow shot up. “That sounds like a gamble. What happens if one day he decides to become a dictator? No one will be able to stop him then”
Clayton shook his head, a knowing smile on his face. “The people chose him to become the president. And honestly, he’s the best leader we’ve ever had. Thanks to him, we’re the happiest, healthiest country out there. No poverty, no hunger, no pandemics. While the rest of the world struggles, we’re thriving. Economically, militarily, we’re untouchable. So no, he’s not the ‘dictator’ type.”
Alexia leaned back, arms crossed, skepticism written all over her face. “Sounds like... it’s too perfect. Everything’s just... working? No way, things shouldn’t be like that. There’s always yin and yang, balance, right?”
Clayton chuckled, shaking his head. “Wow, you’re such a hater. So, it’s wrong for things to be perfect, huh?”
“No, no, it’s just...” Alexia waved her hand dismissively, biting back her thoughts. “Never mind. You can go back to your job now. I won’t take up more of your time. Thanks for the insight on your world, really, it’s been... enlightening. Dismissed.”
Clayton raised an eyebrow, smirking at her sudden shift in tone. “Wow, like that, huh? Alright, alright. I see how it is. Bye.”
“See you at lunch?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, walking off with a casual wave.
Left alone in her office, Alexia stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind drifting.
“Super President?, crazy world, there is a lot to process here, so many questions…. Lunch is 3 hours away. I can’t sleep. What am I supposed to do now?” She felt the weight of drowsiness pulling her down. Yet, sleep was impossible because once she stopped thinking, an overwhelming buzz of voices—conversations, footsteps, distant sirens, all crashing into her mind like waves.
“How can I turn off this stupid power?” she muttered in frustration. “Ugh…”
The voices only intensified, blending together as her focus faded. She rubbed her temples, sinking into the plush sofa, trying to shut it all out.
“What do I do?” she whispered to herself, reaching for her phone to download some games to kill time. As the download bar slowly inched forward, her lack of sleep made her mind slip into a memory she hadn’t thought of in years—one she wished she could forget.
“19! 19! YOU DON’T GET TO SLEEP!” a harsh voice bellowed from her past.
A sharp, cold metal rod struck her back, the sting reverberating through her, making her drop the wooden dagger she’d been holding.
“I-I’m sorry… Mrs. March,” her younger voice trembled, desperate. “It won’t happen again… please, don’t hit me.”
Mrs. March’s scowl deepened, her voice dripping with contempt. “What a useless disappointment. This is the third time you’ve made the same mistake. You sleep when I tell you to sleep. Understand?”
“Yes, Mrs. March,” Alexia whimpered.
“That’s it. No more leniency.” Mrs. March’s fury twisted her features as she grabbed Alexia by the hair, dragging her across the room.
Alexia’s heart raced, panic flooding her. “Please! I’m sorry, Mrs. March! I swear it won’t happen again! Please don’t send me to that place!” she sobbed, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.
With a cruel twist of her wrist, Mrs. March flung her into a dark pit. The impact of the fall hit Alexia hard, the pain shooting up her spine.
She gasped, her eyes snapping open as the memory dissolved. She was back in her office, her body trembling from the phantom ache, her breath uneven.
“God damn it! That bitch…” she screamed, her body still reeling from the torment that had been buried for so long. She could almost feel the old bruises, and hear the crack of the rod.
Her phone buzzed on the table, breaking the tension in the air. “Download completed” flashed across the screen.
Alexia wiped her eyes, breathing heavily as she tried to shake off the memory. The game was ready, but the pit in her stomach remained.
Just like that, she spent the next three hours completely absorbed in her phone, the video game proving to be an effective distraction. It was enough to bury all her problems for a while. Time slipped away without her even noticing.
“Bitch, it’s lunch time,” Clayton called from the door, leaning casually against the frame.
Alexia glanced up, feigning shock. “Hey, rude! You don’t get to call me that, we’re not that close….yet.” she said, flashing a playful smile.
Clayton smirked, rolling his eyes. “Oh, please. Hurry up.”
“Wait… don’t just walk away like that!” Alexia scrambled to her feet, still smiling. “Let me grab my bag first.”
“You’re so slow,” Clayton called back, laughter in his voice.
“Oh, shut up! You just can’t handle my grace,” she shot back with a grin, slinging her bag over her shoulder and hurrying to catch up.