A new world surged towards me, brushing against my mind and sending an electric jolt through me. I longed to give in to it and allow the world to pull me under, but something forced me to push it away. Reluctance thrummed within me as I did, and I paused, looking around the empty expanse I was floating in.

  I wasn’t sure what to do. Obviously, I wanted to fall into a new world and become someone new, but I couldn’t quite let it happen. Anxiety and fear pulled at me, making it impossible, and I hesitated before reaching out towards reality.

  Perhaps that was the problem, I realised. It had been a while since I’d been there, and I had to check to make sure nothing had happened without me noticing. Mom could be furious, ranting angrily, and I may not have reacted at all, which would have been awful. It would just make everything worse, and I knew that.

  The space began to fade around me, and I felt my body start to melt away for a moment before becoming more solid. Dizziness tugged at me as I slowly became aware of the seat beneath me.

  I blinked, looking around at my surroundings before letting my head fall back against the headrest. Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived. A fear crept into my mind, causing goosebumps to slowly spread along my arms.

  Was I actually home? The question had come out of nowhere, but it was impossible to dismiss. It felt like I was back in my reality. That was where I’d been trying to go, but it just seemed a little… off. I’d had that worry before, though. It had felt wrong in the past, but I’d been mistaken. I was pretty sure I had, anyway.

  My eyes flicked towards my mom, taking her in. Was there anything about her appearance that seemed different, I asked myself, trying to figure it out. That would prove whether I was in the right place, but I wasn’t sure. She looked the same as she always did, but there could have been a slight difference, a minuscule change, that I hadn’t noticed.

  Perhaps her hair was half a shade light? And had her nose always had that slight bump halfway along it? Maybe there was a version of her in another world who’d broken it before. It could have happened during her childhood?

  “What?” my mom snapped, noticing my gaze.

  “Nothing,” I replied quickly before feeling the need to add something else as she continued to watch me suspiciously. “I just thought I saw a fly or something. Might have just been some dust, though.”

  Mom’s head whipped around, and she swiped at the air, trying to catch the non-existent fly. I looked from side to side, keeping my expression as innocent as possible as I pretended to also search for it.

  After a few seconds, her hand returned to the steering wheel, and she shot me a suspicious glance out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t speak, though. I was grateful. I didn’t want to hear any accusations or pointed comments. The silence was much nicer. It was easier to handle, even though it made my mind almost immediately begin searching for something else to focus on.

  I hesitated as a familiar dizziness approached, the sensation tentative, as if it was unsure whether I’d accept it. I wasn’t sure, either. I felt conflicted. Part of me wanted to push it far away and refuse to return, but the other part was stronger. I allowed myself to be drawn in, pulled into the world, and I waited as it appeared around me.

  People were moving. I could hear them talking, but their voices didn’t quite reach me. They were warbled and too soft. It was impossible to make out any words, but I waited, knowing it was only a matter of time until they became clear. I was distracted and barely able to focus, anyway. Information was beginning to flow into my mind, bringing me up to date on everything that had happened since I’d visited the Academy last.

  Somehow, it was simultaneously a lot and not that much. All I’d been doing was going to class, but there had been so many. My eyes widened as the things I’d learnt appeared in my memories, startled by the sheer quantity of knowledge that I’d accumulated. It was jarring, and my brain felt full, unable to absorb anything else, but still, it refused to stop.

  I was enjoying it, though. The lessons. They were fun and surprisingly interesting. The first aid classes and survival were some of my favourites, I realised, the fact taking me by surprise. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I would enjoy them; they were just so… intense.

  They made me think about things differently. The tutor had been very clear that not only was it possible that we’d break bones, dislocate joints and have to deal with significant levels of blood loss, but it was actually quite likely. Most people experienced them. Or most field operatives did, anyway.

  But even if I never actually had to put that information to use in that world, it still felt useful to me. I think that’s part of why I was enjoying the classes so much. It was interesting to learn more about the human body, and it seemed like everything I was being taught was the same as in reality.

  That was good. If I ever got hurt or saw someone else get injured, I might be able to help them, and that thought made me smile. Not that I wanted it to happen, obviously. I just liked the idea of being helpful.

  Within moments, the smile slipped from my lips. Despite my enjoyment of the classes, something was tainting my happiness. The deep sense of loneliness persisted, informing me that I was still alone in the Academy without any of my friends or the rest of the cohort. They were still in the induction wing, and I missed them so much, but there was something else, another emotion, that had begun to overshadow it.

  Anxiety.

  It had only been a few days, a week at most, but what if they’d become closer without me there? What if Katie, Abbie, Scott and Seth realised my presence wasn’t actually needed? That it didn’t add anything to the group. Even just thinking that was crushing, but it could happen, I realised. It would have been so easy for them to realise that they didn’t actually like me.

  They seemed to when I was in the induction wing with them, but it could have just been a proximity thing. We were locked in there together. Katie and Abbie were my roommates, and we had no real choice. We have to become friends, really. What else were we meant to do?

  It could be different when they got out of the wing. Would they still want to live with me? Or would they immediately ask to be moved to a different dorm, somewhere far away from me? Perhaps whenever we passed in the corridor or had a class together, they’d ignore me and look the other way, refusing to ever talk to me again.

  That wouldn’t happen. I hadn’t done anything to them, and I knew that, but it felt so possible. I was spiralling. There was a vague awareness in the back of my mind, but that didn’t help. I was falling deeper and deeper into my panic, and I couldn’t claw my way back out. I tried, but it felt as though I was trying to fight against the tides. They were too powerful, just like my anxiety, and I wasn’t strong enough.

  I’d be alone in the Academy again, I realised. They’d be out of the induction wing. Everyone would get out of there, but I’d still be along. No one would want to talk to me. No one would be my friend, and I’d be miserable.

  No. That wouldn’t happen, I told myself, the thought surprisingly firm. If it did, if something happened and they realised they didn’t like me, I’d just never go back. It would be too painful. The world was fun and interesting, but it wouldn’t be worth it to me. Not after that. I would turn my back on it and never return, just like—

  “Grace?” a voice called, causing my head to snap up. “What do you think?”

  I stared at the teacher blankly, simultaneously recognising her and having never seen her before in my life. My mind was empty. I had no clue what she was asking me about. Fear roared in my heart as my vision turned black, and I fled far away from the world, returning to the safety of my void.

  It would be fine, I decided. I’d just wait until my friends were out of the induction wing, and then I’d go back. After that, if… things were different, I’d find another world. A place where I was actually wanted and had people who cared about me.

  Longing filled my heart, but I batted it away, focusing instead on the places before me. I needed another world, somewhere to go until I could return to the Academy, and there were so many options. They seemed to rush towards me, jostling for attention, and I couldn’t help but recoil away from them.

  It felt as though I’d had terrible luck with worlds recently. Or maybe it wasn’t luck. I wasn’t sure, but the last few I’d been to had all filled me with such pain or panic that it would have been better for me to stay in reality, if that was even possible. Part of me was terrified that the new world, whichever one I chose, would be the same.

  I eyed them nervously, trying to figure out which would be best. There was one, though. It seemed to glow with power, even in the darkness of the cavernous space I was in. It drew me closer before I even realised what was happening, and I didn’t notice its shadowy fingers wrapping around my ankle until it was too late.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Dizziness ripped through me, and my head slumped back against the headrest as I was dragged downwards. I tried to struggle, tried to fight against it, but the allure was too strong. I needed to know more about the power that hummed through the world and wanted to discover why it felt so different. Taking a deep breath, I let it consume me.

  There was a brief moment of nothingness. It felt as though I didn’t even exist, but then a crushing sensation gripped me. It forced the air out of my lungs as my head spun. My body cried out for more oxygen, my chest burning with need, but I couldn’t breathe. I tried to inhale, but nothing happened. My lungs weren’t listening to me.

  But I couldn’t return to reality either. I tried, but nothing happened. My mind felt too sluggish, my body too heavy to move. Was I about to die?

  Panic sparked in my heart again, but it was dulled. It didn’t seize me as it should have. Instead, it was quickly replaced with a strange emptiness as the dizziness finally drained from me, leaving nothing behind.

  My pulse thumped in my throat, the beat still a little too fast, and I sucked in a desperate breath before slowly opening my eyes. Immediately, I was blinded. The world was too bright, too dazzling, and I had to lift a hand to block out the sun that seemed to be shining directly into my eyeballs.

  Was I outside?

  I wasn’t sure. It felt like I was in a bed; I could feel the softness of my mattress beneath me and the duvet tucked around me, but why would it be so bright if I was inside? How was that even possible? Was there a spotlight shining on me?

  A flare of fear sparked again, but it faded quickly. I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case. I hadn’t discovered much from my brief view of the world; my eyes had refused to focus on anything, but I doubted there was anything pointing at me. I needed to try again to be sure, though.

  Suddenly, a siren split the air. The shrill alarm blared loudly, but my panic was removed. I wasn’t truly feeling it as I reached out, fumbling as I tried to find one of the stuffed animals that resided in my bed. I’d gotten rid of them years ago in my reality. They were childish, and only babies needed toys, according to my mom, but they were still there in the new world I’d found myself in.

  My hand closed around a round-ish shape, and a smile appeared on my lips as I lifted it into the air. I didn’t even bother lowering my hands from my eyes to look around before hurling it, but I didn’t need to. The satisfying thunk told me the plushy found the alarm clock I kept on my desk at the far end of the room, silencing it.

  Not that I expected to miss it. I hadn’t ever since I moved it over there. Initially, I’d hoped that the distance would mean I’d get up earlier. I thought I’d have to in order to stop it every morning. I wouldn’t be able to sleep through it anymore, but I was incorrect. Instead, my aim had just gotten much, much better.

  I really should get up, though. I knew I had to, but my bed was just so warm. It was so comfortable, and I snuggled in deeper under my duvet, pulling it up to my chin. I never wanted to leave. Maybe I’d miss school and just spend the entire day there, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and happiness.

  A contented sigh slipped from my lips. As wonderful as that truly sounded, I didn’t actually want to do it. Instead, I allowed myself one more moment of comfort before forcing myself to sit up and open my eyes.

  The brightness was slightly less blinding than it was before, and I blinked, rubbing my eyes before looking around my room. It was more colourful than my room in reality. The shades seemed slightly more vibrant, but the biggest change was the walls. They were yellow. The faint scent of paint remained, informing me that they must have been painted recently, which I vaguely recalled.

  Normally, I wouldn’t have liked the colour, but for some reason, it brought a smile to my lips as I reached for my phone. Scrolling through the many messages and notifications that I’d received overnight, I scanned them to check whether I actually had to deal with any of them. It didn’t seem like it, though. I could ignore them for now and do something about them later.

  Or maybe I’d just continue to ignore them. That idea also felt very appealing. I didn’t know most of the people who’d reached out to me, and it wasn’t that I didn’t care about them. I just… had more important things to deal with.

  Flicking through my apps, I located the one I was searching for and tapped it. A yawn escaped my lips, and I waited until it had stopped before lifting my phone and staring into the camera.

  The screen remained blank for a few seconds as it struggled to verify my identity, but that wasn’t particularly surprising. It always did first thing in the morning. Once I’d brushed my hair and my eyes were fully open, it would be faster. It usually was, at least.

  Reports appeared as the app loaded, and I read through them quickly. There was nothing particularly urgent there, though. A few minor crimes, some car thefts and a couple of murders, but nothing I really needed to worry about. None of them seemed to be the work of any of the villains or monsters we’d been monitoring. They seemed far too mundane for that. Unless fifteen year old Hondas were somehow necessary for someone’s evil plan.

  I smirked as I threw the duvet back and climbed out of bed. With my phone still clasped in my hand, I raised my arms above my head and stretched, hearing my back crackle satisfyingly. The sensation seemed to fizz within my spine, and I turned slightly, trying to get the spot in my lower back that needed to pop.

  “Yes,” I hissed as the noise sounded, immediately making my back feel a little better.

  It was a sign, I decided as I checked the group chat with the rest of my team. It was going to be a good day, and there would be nothing that needed my attention. It would just be a nice, quiet day.

  I needed that. We had biology just after lunch, and I really had to attend that class. For some reason, the attacks always seemed to happen on the days when I had a biology lesson. I’d already missed eight in the last couple of months since everything started, and that had made me fall so far behind on my work. I needed to catch up. There was a mock exam next week, and I felt woefully unprepared.

  During the last class I’d attended, I hadn’t understood a single thing the teacher had said. She was explaining something about cell walls or the structure or something, and it had gone straight over my head. I felt like she was speaking another language, and it was terrible, but I was honestly almost grateful when the alarm sounded.

  The fight was tough, obviously. The monster was a weird creature we’d never encountered before, and I didn’t think it was even possible for something to have so many arms, but that thing proved me wrong. We managed to dispatch it without too much difficulty, though. It was hard but definitely manageable.

  I slipped my phone into my pyjama pocket and started to walk towards my bathroom, my eyes finding the puckered skin of my forearm above the bracelet I hadn’t removed in almost six months. The scar was a present from that monster. A reminder of what it could do and that I shouldn’t underestimate things in the future. It wasn’t my fault, though. Not really. How was I meant to know that overgrown octopus thing had poisonous suckers? That wasn’t a thing normally! I was pretty sure of that, at least.

  It was healing fairly well, though, I told myself as I used the toilet and washed my hands. I’d gotten lucky too, and I knew that. The octopus had only grabbed my arm, but Melanie had caught a tentacle to the face. I grimaced at myself in the mirror before picking up my toothbrush and toothpaste.

  She hadn’t returned to school since then. She was completely fine, of course. Our enhanced healing made sure of that. She wasn’t in any pain anymore. Physically. Mentally, she was in agony. That’s what she’d told us in one of the many texts she’d sent yesterday and every day since the attack. Being stuck at home was boring, and she wanted to fly to the moon, just for something to do.

  We were torn on whether that was a good idea, though. Issy had refused to vote, meaning both sides were equally weighed, and Mellie decided to wait. She’d give it a go some other time and stick to consuming far too much terrible reality television for the next few days. She’d be back in school then. The swelling and marks were almost gone, and then she’d return.

  Not that there was anything stopping her from going back sooner. Not really, anyway. Physically, she could do it, but none of us liked to be there when we were visibly injured, even if it had stopped hurting.

  People always looked at us funny whenever that happened. It was why I’d been wearing jumpers and long sleeves for the last week. Even though it was uncomfortable, it was the best thing to do, and I knew that. The guilt was hard to deal with. It made people alternate between avoiding us, barely able to meet our eyes, and being overly nice.

  Both were irritating, honestly. It felt a little wrong to admit that, but they did annoy me. The reactions were motivated by guilt, and that was the issue, I think. People were so ashamed that me and the rest of my team, a group of kids, were the ones who had to take a stand against those who threatened to destroy the earth and everyone living there.

  Okay, not everyone we fought was trying to destroy the world, I reasoned as I dried my face and rubbed moisturiser in before tipping my makeup bag upside down. My hand shot out, grabbing my concealer before it rolled off the counter and into the toilet. Some of them were just weird monsters on brutal, murderous rampages, and the Shooting Stars were the only ones who could stop them because of our powers.

  I couldn’t help but stick my tongue out at myself in the mirror. A quiet chuckle escaped my lips, and I shook my head. The name was ridiculous. I wasn’t a fan of it, and neither was the rest of my team. It sounded so young. There was something infantilising about it, and I’m pretty sure the under-five’s running club my mom had taken me to as a kid had the same name, but it wasn’t our choice. We weren’t exactly consulted on it. People just started calling us that, and it stuck.

  We would have preferred something stronger. Something that radiated power. Earth’s Mightiest Guardians was Phoebe’s suggestion, but it was quickly shot down by the marketing team we’d been forced to meet with. Someone already held the copyright for that or something. I don’t know. I couldn’t remember. I’d barely been paying attention during that meaning, and honestly, they were lucky I hadn’t fallen asleep as they droned on and on about our image.

  Wait…

  I lowered my hand slowly, still clutching my mascara wand, and stared at my reflection as I ran back over what I’d just been thinking. Phoebe. She’d been the one to suggest the name, and that meant she must exist in the new world I was in.

  She did, I realised, unable to contain my happiness. A grin stretched across my face as I quickly shoved the mascara wand back into the tube and grabbed my phone out of my pocket, needing to double-check that she was the same person as my best friend in real life. I tapped on my messages, spotting her name pinned at the top right under the group chat called ‘EMGs’. Despite the marketing teams’ complaints, that was still what we called ourselves, I realised with a laugh.

  My eyes scanned the messages, reading through them as my heart thumped painfully. It was definitely her. Every single text sounded like one she’d send me in reality, and that realisation filled me with happiness. The picture above Phoebe’s name even looked like the same one I used in my reality. She existed in that world, and we were still friends.