Risebelle's thoughts were consumed by the overwhelming surge of her Water Magic energy. Memories from her past life began to resurface.

  ‘I've seen their cruelty," Risebelle thought with a deep-seated anger surging. ‘Humans. Greedy, power-hungry, stepping on everyone like they’re ants on the sidewalk. I’ve lived it.’

  Risebelle delved deeper into her past life memories and soon found herself transported to a time when she was just a college student. She had returned home one day and faced her mother.

  Risebelle's mother stood by the kitchen counter chopping vegetables. Her long blue hair was striking mirror of Risebelle’s own. It was neatly tied into a bun. Her face bore no signs of aging, but her stern expression was more than enough to show the weight of her authority.

  She turned to face Risebelle and placed the knife in her hand down. “I got your report card,” said. She spoke as sharply as the knife she’d just put down.

  Risebelle flinched. “Uh… you mean my progress report?”

  “Same thing,” her mother said, waving off the correction like it offended her. “All A’s—except for Advanced Quantum Psychics. A B+? Really, Risebelle?”

  Risebelle blinked and thought, ‘Here we go…’

  Her mother leaned in with narrowed eyes. “What’s next? A C? A D? Do we just sell the house now? Should I start looking for a box on the street for us to live in?”

  “It’s just a B+,” Risebelle muttered.

  “JUST a B+?” her mother gasped, clutching her chest. “Do you know what B+ stands for? Banishment Plus. That’s what.”

  Risebelle tried to argue. “We’re doing fine now, Mom! Dad’s job is stable, we’ve got a nice house—”

  Her mother’s glare could have stopped time itself. “This is not about comfort! This is about PERFECTION. You don’t coast in life, Risebelle. You conquer. You—” She turned back to the vegetables and resumed chopping with a vengeance. “—don’t bring home a B+.”

  Risebelle’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about me, is it? This is about what the neighbors think!”

  Her mother froze mid-chop. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re afraid someone will find out, aren’t you?” Risebelle’s voice rose. “You’re scared Mrs. Magenta next door will say, ‘Oh dear, did you hear about the rich daughter with the B+? How tragic!’”

  Her mother spun around, She pointed her knife at Risebelle with a sudden flair. “Public perception matters! Reputation matters! Do you want people to think we’re average?”

  “Maybe average isn’t so bad!” Risebelle shot back. “I’d rather be happy than live up to some impossible standard just so Mrs. Magenta doesn’t gossip about us over her fifth glass of wine!”

  At that moment, the door creaked open and Risebelle’s father strolled in.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked with curiosity and exhaustion. He glanced between his wife and daughter.

  “She thinks a B+ is acceptable!” her mother declared

  “Mom’s obsessed with what the neighbors think!” Risebelle countered while crossing her arms.

  Her father let out a deep sigh. "Ah screw this shit, I need a drink." He walked to the fridge, opened it and pulled a beer from it.

  "You're not going to help me with your daughter?" Risebelle’s mother demanded in a voice as sharp as a knife's edge.

  “Nope,” the man replied after taking a long swig of his beer. “I’ve seen where this train’s headed. Not riding it today. Maybe tomorrow, but not today.”

  Risebelle’s life had taken a sharp turn from the days of heated arguments in her kitchen. College had transformed her into a star student that everyone aspired to beat—or befriend. Her academic achievements earned her the nickname ‘A Ranked Girl’ among her peers. Plus, her beauty made girls envy her and guys fall head over heels.

  The day her perfect report card arrived, Risebelle felt a sense of vindication. “Take that, Mom. No B+ in sight.”

  While strolling through the school hallway, her friends flocked to her like moths to a flame.

  “Risebelle,” Angie teased while placing an arm casually over Risebelle’s shoulder. “You’re so smart, you’ll need to find a guy who can match your grades—or at least not fail by comparison.”

  Risebelle flashed a mischievous grin. “Oh, you know me, Angie. I’m holding out for someone who can recite Shakespeare while solving calculus proofs in real time.”

  Another friend whom she knew barely, but was in her class named Clarissa rolled her eyes dramatically. “And he should probably have a Nobel Prize waiting in his back pocket, huh?”

  “Bare minimum,” Risebelle replied with a cheeky smirk. “And he better look fresh. I can’t settle for anything less.”

  The group burst into laughter, and Risebelle soaked in the moment.

  When Risebelle arrived home that evening, she saw her father sitting on the couch in the living room with a somber look on his face. When she entered, he began to speak. “Baby girl…we need to talk."

  Risebelle frowned, setting her bag down. “Where’s Mom? I finally did it, Dad! All A’s on my report card—look!” She held it up as though it were a trophy. She sounded almost childlike.

  Her father looked at the paper but did not smile. Instead, he sighed and gestured for her to sit opposite him. "Your mother. she isn't here right now. And this isn't something we need her for, really."

  "What is it, Dad?" asked Risebelle while sitting sat down.

  “It’s gone,” her father replied.

  Risebelle looked at her father, puzzled. "Eh? What do you mean, Dad? What's gone?"

  Her father sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s all gone, Risebelle. All of it. Every penny.”

  Risebelle’s eyes widened. “The hell do you mean it’s ‘gone’? We’ve got savings, we’ve got backup savings…”

  The man shook his head slowly. “Gone. All of it.”

  A flash of anger sparked in Risebelle’s chest. “The backup savings too? The emergency fund we always talked about?”

  “Gone,”

  Risebelle leaned forward. “What about the money? The money you keep under the bed? The one in the safe you always thought nobody knew about?”

  Her father’s eyes darted toward the hallway. “Hey now! You’ve been sneaking around our room way too much.”

  Risebelle’s jaw clenched. “Don’t change the subject, Dad! You’re telling me that all of it—the savings, the backup, everything’s just…gone?”

  Her father shifted uncomfortably before speaking again. “It’s not just that, Risebelle. The money’s gone, but there’s more… much more.”

  Risebelle’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, more?”

  The man's eyes fell to the floor. "With all of the money gone, I'm in debt. It's…alot. We're talking numbers I couldn't even wrap my head around. I tried making it work, but now… now it's too late. I'm in deep trouble, Risebelle."

  Risebelle clenched her fists. “Dad, I’ve got a perfect report card! I can get that job I’ve always wanted now, no sweat. I’ve got the grades—this is my shot!”

  Her father’s eyes shot up to meet hers, but his face was grim. “It’s not quick enough, Risebelle. We need that money, and we need it now. That job isn’t going to help us in time.”

  “What do you mean it’s not—”

  Risebelle’s Father interrupted her. “I did something. Something… drastic.”

  Risebelle’s blood ran cold. “Dad, what did you do?”

  Her father’s eyes suddenly held a coldness that she had never seen before. "I've made arrangements with some... ‘influential’ people. They can erase our debts and secure our financial future, but they had a condition."

  Risebelle’s heart pumped in her chest. "What condition, Dad? What do they want from us?"

  Suddenly, Risebelle turned to see a group of men in black tuxedos and sunglasses entering their home. She didn’t even hear the front door open.

  Risebelle's eyes widened. "Dad, what the hell? Who are these people?"

  Her Father replied."Risebelle, it's the only way. They want you to... ‘Work’ for them. You'll have to do things you won't like. Don’t worry. You’re a Straight A Student. You can handle doing a few things you don’t like to do, can’t you?"

  Risebelle’s breath caught in her throat. Her pulse hammered in her ears as a chilling thought struck her like a bolt of lightning.

  "Now it makes sense..." she whispered. “This... this is why Mom isn’t here, isn't it?"

  Her father gave a weak chuckle. “Actually, funny thing about that... Your mother and I, we’re divorced now."

  Risebelle’s eyes widened. "Divorced?!... How the hell did that happen so quickly? Court cases don’t happen that fast."

  Her father remained silent with a distant look in his eyes. With tears streaming down her face, Risebelle's hands trembled. “You’re not human,” she spat out with hatred. "You’re a monster. You’ve always been a monster. How could you do this to us? To Mom? To me?"

  The man leaned back with a smirk. “You still don’t get it, do you, Risebelle? This is what being human is. Struggling. Fighting against the problems that come up. We all have them—some worse than others. You think you're above this?”

  Her father made his way to the kitchen. "I’m done with this conversation," he said, opening the fridge to pull out one of the last beers he would ever be able to afford. "I’m also done pretending I’ve got answers for you. Get this ‘stranger’ out of my house."

  Risebelle’s life had twisted into a nightmare. Stripped of her dignity, she was now clothed in the rags of a slave. The usual brightness in her blue eyes had was replaced by emptiness.

  Risebelle sat on the unforgiving floor of the cell she was placed in. She whispered to herself with venom, “I’ll kill them all. Every single one. Even my parents… They will pay for what they’ve done.”

  Her mind wandered ahead to the moment of her awakening in Dr. Kintovar's lab. She didn’t remember the moments of her death, but she remembered awakening one day in the coldish environment of the lab, encased in a pod. A blinding light greeted her as Dr. Kintovar stood before her. The doctor wore her signature shades, but not her pink headphones.

  Dr. Kintovar was in the midst of a hurried conversation with another woman. She spoke with urgency. "This is a long shot, but if we don't act quickly, the humans will discover the lab."

  The other woman cried out with tears streaming down her eyes. "Oh, my God! If they find out where we are, we'll be to listen to bad elevator music while were tortured and then executed!"

  Dr. Kintovar’s focus went on the pod containing Risebelle. She noticed her eyes open and exclaimed, “Aha! She’s awake! Good! Risebelle, Welcome to--"

  Before Dr. Kintovar could finish her sentence, Risebelle exited the tank and knocked Dr. Kintovar to the ground.

  "You're a human!" Risebelle hissed while gripping Dr. Kintovar's neck. She tried to choke the life out of her. "You're one of them! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!"

  But Dr. Kintovar quickly activated a concealed device, and a small explosion erupted within Risebelle's body. The pain was excruciating, and Risebelle writhed in agony on the cold lab floor.

  Dr. Kintovar got up from the ground and said, "Risebelle, I have yet to explain, You are a creation, and I am your brilliant creator, Dr.Kintovar. You will do as I say, or you will be getting another one of those.”

  Risebelle’s fists clenched. “You think you can control me? I won't be your damn puppet!"

  Dr. Kintovar's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Oh, you misunderstand me. I don't seek to control you. I seek to guide you in the right direction towards your potential. Together, we can make use of your talents and make those humans pay. Are you listening now?"

  Risebelle's eyes narrowed. "What the hell do you want with me?"

  Dr. Kintovar stepped closer, "You have been gifted with extraordinary abilities, Risebelle! I want you to use them to eliminate those who have caused us so much pain. Humans who deserve nothing but retribution. Together, we will rewrite the future."

  "Rewrite the future?” Risebelle scoffed.

  Dr. Kintovar smiled and raised one finger. “Yes, but first, we must destroy the ones who stand in our way."

  Risebelle’s gaze hardened with the intensity of a predator stalking its prey. "You say 'we,' but it's not really about 'we,' is it, Kintovar? I’m just a tool to you."

  Dr. Kintovar didn’t flinch. “I prefer to think of it as giving you the power to do what your heart desires. Right now, it has a desire for vengeance, doesn’t it?”

  Risebelle stood silent for a long moment and thought to what had brought her to this point—her father’s betrayal, her mother’s obsession with reputation, the weight of expectations. A lifetime of being crushed beneath their desires for perfection, for control and validation.

  She realized. ‘The whole damn world is built on this sick game of manipulation and power. But I don’t have to play by their rules. I can make my own.’

  She turned to Dr. Kintovar with a gaze of cold resolution. “Fine. I’ll join you. But on my terms. I’ll destroy them all—humans, your enemies, anyone who stands in my way but don’t ever forget this: You may ‘think’ you created me, but I am the one who will decide how this ends.”

  Risebelle's memories faded into the background. The present reasserted itself. Her body trembled with the overwhelming surge of her Water Magic energy and her surroundings blurred. She struggled hard to contain the power within her.

  The system suddenly flashed in her mind:

  "30% of Project Z.A.B Data Collection is complete."

  Risebelle briefly acknowledged the message from the system with annoyance. "Damn… this system.”