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Project:Imagine
Chapter 52-Detention

Chapter 52-Detention

Jonathan sat in his office, shuffling through a stack of paperwork, his brow furrowed in concentration. The steady hum of the building provided a muted backdrop, the peace abruptly shattered as the door flew open. Mrs. Stone burst in, her expression a storm of barely restrained fury.

“Oh, Mia, what a pleasant surprise,” Jonathan greeted her with a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He didn't flinch as she marched forward, conjuring a blade of water that hovered threateningly near his neck.

“Why the hell did you send two of my students to detention with that lunatic?” Mia snapped, her voice seething with outrage. “Anastasia is unstable! You know what she's capable of.”

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, his smile never wavering. “They were caught engaging in destructive behavior,” he explained calmly. “This is the third time Iris has decided to redecorate a room with fire. And as for Anya—well, she had a chainsaw. Still trying to figure out where she got it.”

Mia’s grip on the water blade tightened, her gaze boring into Jonathan. “You don't pay me enough for this nonsense,” she muttered.

In response, the various venus flytraps dotting the room began to stir, their thick stems shifting as the large, toothed mouths opened wide, an unspoken threat in their silent movements.

“Careful, Mia,” Jonathan said, a hint of a taunt creeping into his tone. “You know how my plants feel when you start talking about pay raises.”

Mia gritted her teeth, her water blade flickering. “Just let them out, Jonathan. A couple of hours in a room with that psycho isn't something kids should go through. Not even Iris and Anya deserve that.”

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I'll let them out… in an hour or two. After they've had some time to cool off.”

Mia's jaw tightened, and she lowered her weapon, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Fine. If you won’t listen to me, then I'll find someone you will listen to,” she spat, turning on her heel and storming out of the office.

Jonathan’s smile faded slightly as the door slammed behind her, his eyes drifting back to the paperwork scattered across his desk.

Mia stormed into Wallace’s office with a force that nearly took the door off its hinges. The loud bang echoed through the room, startling Wallace awake from his nap at his cluttered desk. Papers fluttered to the ground as he jolted up, bleary-eyed, while Markus, who was lounging on the other side of the room, engrossed in his portable game console, chuckled at the sudden chaos.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” Mia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she conjured a swirling ball of water and hurled it at Wallace’s face. The splash snapped him fully awake, soaking his shirt and drenching the stack of paperwork on his desk.

“What the hell was that for?” Wallace groaned, shaking water from his hair as he glared at her.

Mia didn’t waste a second. “I need your help. Jonathan's being a complete ass,” she said bluntly, folding her arms in frustration.

Markus paused his game and hopped down from his perch, a grin spreading across his face. “Finally! I’d love an excuse to punch that tree-hugging bastard,” he said, cracking his knuckles in anticipation.

“You’re way too eager for this kind of thing,” Wallace sighed, grabbing a towel from a nearby chair to dry his face. “What did Jonathan do this time?”

“He threw two of my students in detention,” Mia began, pacing the length of the room. “And you can probably guess who’s watching them.”

Wallace rubbed his temples, a weary groan escaping him. “Anastasia. Of course. That trigger-happy psycho is still working here?”

“She’s more unhinged than ever, and Jonathan says he’s keeping the kids locked up for at least an hour,” Mia continued, the tension in her voice climbing with every word.

Wallace dropped the towel, a frown deepening on his face. “Those kids shouldn't have to deal with an hour with her; they’ll need therapy after five minutes.”

“Enough talking,” Markus interjected, already halfway out the door. “Let’s go punch some sense into that smug plant freak.”

With a resigned sigh, Wallace pushed himself up from his chair and followed after him. “At the very least, we’re going to get an explanation out of him. And if that means knocking some sense into Jonathan along the way… well, so be it.”

Mia smirked and strode after them. “Finally, some teamwork around here.”

The tension in the detention room crackled like static electricity as Iris and Anya exchanged a glance. Despite the mutual animosity that burned between them, an unspoken understanding passed through the air, they had to work together if they were going to escape.

Anastasia sat at the front, engrossed in her magazine, her eyes flickering up occasionally to watch them. Iris conjured a small, flickering flame at the tip of her finger, and with a subtle nod toward Anastasia, she gestured, silently asking if she should make a move.

Anya gave a quick, approving nod, and reached into her earring, pulling out a tiny grenade. The metallic object glinted ominously in her palm as she pulled the pin, her eyes locked on their captor.

In perfect unison, Iris flung the rapidly expanding fireball, while Anya hurled the grenade. The two projectiles arced through the air, their combined force aimed straight at Anastasia. But just as the attacks closed in, Anastasia’s head tilted ever so slightly, her eyes glowing with a sharp, vivid light.

The room erupted in a chaotic blast of fire and smoke as Anastasia's pistols appeared in her hands, seemingly from nowhere. Her fingers moved like lightning, firing two perfectly placed shots that detonated the fireball and grenade midair, filling the room with a blinding flash and a deafening roar. The smell of gunpowder and smoke filled the air as shards of metal and embers rained down harmlessly around her.

When the haze cleared, Anastasia’s glowing eyes pierced through the dissipating smoke, her gaze fixed on the two troublemakers. “My ability lets me see a few seconds into the future anytime an attack is directed at me,” she said, her voice calm and unsettlingly cheerful, as if she were discussing the weather. “So if you two think you can surprise me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

She slowly leveled her pistols at the girls, her fingers resting on the triggers. “Now, listen up. Not another word, and definitely no more escape attempts,” she warned, her tone hardening. “Otherwise, we’re going to have a much less pleasant conversation.”

For a moment, the room was silent as Iris and Anya seemed to weigh their options. But instead of backing down, they steeled their resolve. Iris’s fiery bow materialized in her hands, flames licking up its length, while Anya’s earring shimmered again, releasing another weapon—a sleek, silver chainsaw that roared to life as she gripped its handle.

Anastasia's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a wicked grin. “Oh, you’re bold,” she murmured, setting aside her magazine with a casual flick of her wrist. “Fine then. If it’s a fight you want, let’s make this interesting.”

The room was alive with tension and the echo of clashing wills. Anya lunged forward, the roar of her chainsaw filling the air as she aimed for Anastasia’s midsection. The weapon’s metallic teeth glinted hungrily as they spun, but Anastasia sidestepped the attack with a fluid grace, her smirk never fading.

"Too slow," Anastasia teased, her voice dripping with amusement. Without missing a beat, she whirled around, her pistols already trained on Iris, who was taking aim with her flaming bow.

Iris unleashed a barrage of fiery arrows, each one leaving a blazing trail in the air. Anastasia darted and weaved through the onslaught, her movements so quick and precise that it seemed like she was one step ahead of each shot. “It’s been a while since someone tried to escape from detention,” Anastasia laughed, her voice a blend of thrill and condescension.

She landed on her feet and raised both pistols, aiming directly at Iris and Anya. The twin barrels gleamed as she squeezed the triggers.

Iris summoned a shield of flames just in time, the bullets sizzling and evaporating against the intense heat. But Anya wasn't as fortunate; one shot struck her square in the forehead. The impact sent a jolt of pain radiating through her skull, making her stagger back momentarily.

A red mark appeared where the bullet had struck, but there was no blood, no break in the skin. The pain was searing, as if she'd been branded.

“Did you really think I’d kill a child?” Anastasia taunted, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. “These guns are designed to cause only immense pain—no bleeding, no wounds, just agony. I like to keep things clean.” Her voice dripped with mock concern, as if chastising them for expecting anything less.

Anya’s expression didn’t falter. Ignoring the stinging sensation in her head, she gripped the chainsaw tighter, revving it up again. "I don’t care what kind of tricks your guns have," she spat, rushing forward with renewed ferocity.

At the same time, Iris let loose another barrage of arrows, this time spreading them out to create a wide, fiery net. The heat intensified, warping the air around them. Anya zigzagged toward Anastasia, closing the distance while using Iris's arrows as cover.

Anastasia's eyes flickered, her ability kicking in as she foresaw the trajectory of each arrow. She flipped over one, sidestepped another, then fired a shot at Anya’s leg to disrupt her approach. The bullet hit, sending a jolt of pain through Anya’s thigh, but it didn’t stop her. She pressed on, gritting her teeth as she swung the chainsaw in a sweeping arc aimed at Anastasia's midsection.

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With a quick twist, Anastasia used the barrel of one pistol to parry the chainsaw, the screech of metal-on-metal ringing out as sparks flew. At the same time, she aimed her other pistol at Iris, who was preparing to unleash another fiery assault. The two were relentless, and Anastasia couldn’t help but grin at their determination.

As Anya pushed forward with her chainsaw, Anastasia gave a powerful kick, sending her stumbling back just enough for Iris to line up another shot. Flaming arrows whistled through the air, forcing Anastasia to shift her focus and dodge once more, but it was clear that they were pushing her further on the defensive.

The fight pressed on as the air thickened with tension, the smoke from Anastasia’s earlier bomb still hanging in the room, dissipating slowly. Anastasia twirled her pistols, laughing as she kept her eyes locked on the two girls.

“You two are fun, I’ll give you that,” she said with a sneer. “I’ve heard Markus has been subbing in for your combat teacher, poor things. Maybe I should take the job, Johnny might agree if I ask nicely.”

Iris and Anya exchanged a brief, tense glance. They weren’t just outmatched in strength—they were dealing with someone who had clearly seen more combat than either of them. As if to emphasize the point, Anastasia pulled out a smoke bomb from her pocket, hurling it in their direction. In the blink of an eye, she shot it midair, causing the bomb to explode prematurely, filling the room with thick, choking smoke.

Blinded, Iris barely had time to react before she felt a sudden, brutal impact in her gut. Anastasia’s fist connected with a force that knocked the wind out of her lungs, sending her crumpling to the ground, gasping for air. Before she could even try to recover, Anastasia stood over her, the cold barrel of a pistol pressed against her temple.

But Anastasia wasn’t content just with Iris. Her eyes glowed faintly as her ability activated, scanning the room in third-person vision. She could see exactly where Anya was lurking through the fog, trying to remain hidden. In an instant, Anastasia was on the move again, firing rapid shots into Anya's legs. The stinging pain forced Anya to collapse, her legs too weak to support her.

As the smoke finally began to clear, Anastasia stood tall over both girls, laughing maniacally.

Iris, still on the ground, managed a pained grunt, “Where was this psycho when the facility got attacked?”

“Oh, I may have faked being sick to go to a concert,” Anastasia responded, flashing a thumbs-up as if this were the most normal excuse in the world.

Iris and Anya groaned in unison, “Unbelievable.”

But the fight wasn’t over. Both girls forced themselves back to their feet. Anya, undeterred by the pain in her legs, stashed the chainsaw back into her earring and withdrew a new weapon: a pair of gauntlets, sleeker and smaller than the floating hands she had been using earlier.

“I wonder where a brat like you gets such a handy subspace artifact,” Anastasia remarked, eyeing the earring warily. Without hesitation, she aimed her pistol and shot at Anya’s ear, knocking the earring clean off.

Before Anya could react, Anastasia dashed forward and crushed the earring beneath her boot, twisting her foot into the ground. “No more items for you.”

Anya cursed under her breath as she quickly backed away, her gauntlets crackling with energy. Meanwhile, Iris conjured her flame bow again, reigniting her arrows, and preparing for the next strike.

Anastasia, unbothered, continued firing her pistols. The shots echoed through the room, each bullet forcing Anya and Iris on the defensive. The girls tried to dodge, but Anastasia’s shots seemed endless.

“Does she ever run out of ammo?” Anya groaned as she deflected a bullet with one of her gauntlets.

“Nope,” Anastasia said with a gleeful laugh, twirling both pistols again. “These beauties? Subspace artifacts in all of them. Infinite ammo. I could keep shooting until you two finally pass out from exhaustion.”

Iris gritted her teeth, unleashing a volley of flaming arrows. “We’re not giving up that easily!”

The arrows streaked through the air, creating a fiery wall between Anastasia and them. Anya, seizing the opportunity, launched herself forward, her gauntlets sparking with energy. She aimed a powerful punch at Anastasia’s midsection, trying to land a hit that could turn the tide.

But Anastasia, anticipating the move, sidestepped with ease. “Nice try, but it's going to take more than that.” She fired off another round of bullets, each one sending ripples of pain through the girls, but they pressed on.

Mia, Markus, and Wallace stormed down the hall toward Jonathan's office, their footsteps echoing with purpose. As they barged in, they found Jonathan deep in conversation with Baal, who sat on the edge of the desk, his expression unusually warm and affectionate.

“My beloved, it’s truly a blessing to see you,” Baal said, his voice dripping with adoration as he gazed at Mia.

Mia rolled her eyes, but quickly adjusted her tone, putting on an air of distressed helplessness. “Baal, my dear, could you please help us? Jonathan has thrown two of my students into detention, and I'm just so worried about them.” She conjured a watery tear at the corner of her eye for extra effect. “The one supervising that room is a complete psycho.”

Baal’s affectionate expression disappeared, replaced by a cold, seething rage. “Authority of gravity, activate,” he commanded. Instantly, the gravity around Jonathan increased tenfold, crushing him down to the floor. The chair he had been sitting on crumpled beneath him, collapsing under the immense weight.

“How dare you make my future wife cry?” Baal snarled, fury blazing in his eyes.

“We’re not getting mar—actually, you know what? Keep going, I’m so proud of you, my dear fiancé,” Mia said with a sly smile.

Markus, standing off to the side, chuckled quietly. “I wanted to punch him in the face, but watching a Demon King crush him like a tin can is pretty satisfying, too. Nice manipulation skills there, Mia.”

“I won’t deny,” Mia said with a sly wink, “his devotion is kind of cute.”

Jonathan gritted his teeth as the gravitational force increased even more, pinning him against the floor. “Damn demon… Always so dramatic,” he spat, his voice strained from the pressure.

Baal glanced over at Mia, his tone softening as he said, “Don't worry, my beloved. I’ll make sure he never disrespects you again.”

“Now, listen up, Jonathan,” Mia said, her voice turning icy as she stepped forward. “You have three council members against you. Release my students immediately.”

Groaning under the weight, Jonathan struggled to lift his head. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll release them. But I’m taking the damages they caused out of your paycheck.”

Baal’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and the gravitational force doubled again. Jonathan felt as though the floor itself was swallowing him. “You dare bargain with her?” Baal hissed.

“Okay, okay, I won’t touch the damn paycheck!” Jonathan snapped. “Just let me go.”

Baal relented, and the intense gravity dissipated. Jonathan gasped for air as he struggled to his feet, glaring at Mia and Baal. “You two are a real pain,” he muttered.

“Keep talking, and I might reconsider letting Baal have some real fun,” Mia said with a playful smirk, turning to lead the way. “Come on, let’s go get my students out of that detention room.”

The classroom was in utter chaos, scorching marks and debris everywhere, as Iris’s flaming arrows and Anya’s laser blasts scorched and shattered what remained. Despite the relentless barrage, Anastasia moved with effortless grace, evading every attack, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of combat.

Anya gritted her teeth and lunged forward, swinging a laser-coated fist at Anastasia. With a deft sidestep, Anastasia dodged the blow and fired a quick shot into Anya's calf, causing her to stumble. Without losing momentum, she spun to face Iris, who was charging in with her bow of flames fully drawn.

Iris released a fiery arrow aimed straight at Anastasia's chest. At the last second, Anastasia dropped low, avoiding the flaming projectile by inches, and launched herself up, driving a punch into Iris’s midsection. The impact forced Iris to stagger back, but she quickly shook it off, drawing another arrow as the fire intensified in her hands.

Anastasia tossed one of her pistols high into the air, her eyes tracking its path as she seamlessly drew another from her arsenal. She pressed the barrel of the second gun against her own temple, triggering her ability to foresee the next few seconds. The future unfolded in rapid flashes, Anya charging, Iris preparing another shot, and the trajectory of the falling pistol.

With perfect timing, she fired at the airborne gun’s trigger, and the weapon discharged in midair, sending a bullet flying into Anya's back. Anya gasped in pain, dropping to one knee as the impact coursed through her.

“I’m just showing off at this point,” Anastasia laughed, catching the falling gun mid-drop. She twirled it effortlessly, sending another shot ricocheting off the wall to clip Iris in the leg, causing her to collapse onto one knee.

Anya struggled to her feet, gritting her teeth. “She’s always one step ahead.”

Iris's flames flared dangerously, casting a searing glow throughout the wrecked room. “Enough games!” she shouted, her voice carrying a note of desperation as she drew upon every ounce of power she had left.

The temperature skyrocketed, and the walls began to buckle under the intense heat. The air crackled as Iris summoned a massive fireball above her head, while Anya’s gauntlets hummed with fierce energy, preparing to unleash a concentrated laser blast.

The door burst open, sending splintered wood flying as thick, flower-covered vines surged into the room, wrapping around Anya and Iris before they could react. Anastasia expertly dodged the writhing tendrils, watching with a mix of amusement and curiosity as they restrained the exhausted students.

“That’s enough,” Jonathan declared as he stepped inside, surveying the wreckage. The classroom was nearly unrecognizable, scorched walls, shattered desks, and the lingering heat of Iris's flames gave the room a chaotic, war-torn appearance. “You’re both free to go… but what in the world happened here?”

Anastasia smirked, holstering her pistols with a casual flourish. “We had some fun, Johnny,” she chuckled. “Maybe just a little too much fun.”

“She tried to kill us!” Iris snapped, still catching her breath as the vines slowly loosened their grip.

“Aw, come on,” Anastasia said with a dismissive wave. “You’re still standing, aren’t you?” Her smile grew wider as she turned back to Jonathan. “Speaking of which, Johnny, I’ve got a little request. I’ve been thinking about a career change. How about making me their permanent combat instructor? It’d be a blast, don’t you think? My combat skills speak for themselves.”

“Don't do this, she’s insane!” Anya interjected, wincing as she rubbed the bruises forming on her legs.

Jonathan gave the room one last look, weighing the decision for a moment. “Fine, I’ll allow it,” he finally said, giving a small nod. “But as for you two, head back and get some rest. The joint training exercise is tomorrow, and you’ll need to be in top form.”

He released the vines' hold on the two girls, who exchanged a wary glance as they stumbled toward the exit, grateful to be leaving.

“And Anastasia,” Jonathan added, his tone sharpening, “consider your pay docked for the damages. This place is a mess.”

Anastasia burst into laughter, tossing her hair back as she shrugged. “Worth every penny,” she grinned. “These kids have potential, that much is clear. Prodigies, both of them. Though they could stand to work on their teamwork a little more,” she mused. “But overall, they show serious promise.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “High praise coming from you.” He gestured toward the door. “Go take your smoke break. There’s plenty of residual fire in the room if you need a light.”

“Don't mind if I do,” Anastasia said with a wink, her laughter echoing as she strolled out of the ravaged classroom, leaving behind the lingering scent of gunpowder and smoke.