"Hsss." The sound escaped from between my teeth as I attempted to bandage my face. Pretty-boy's fist had left a nasty slash across my cheekbone. As I worked, I thought back to the night before. The fire had raged for about two hours before they managed to put it out. Phantom Banshee, on the other hand, had vanished within minutes, after having her picture taken several times. Police had gone to search the roof where she had been seen, and what greeted them was her name, burned into the structure. This particular piece of art I had taken the time to do before setting of my bombs in order to speed my escape. Kacie had sent me another web page. I hadn't bothered to do more than skim the article, but I had learned that six were hospitalized, though no one was seriously hurt. The whole thing had been accompanied by two pictures. One showed the damage of the fire, blacked buildings, destroyed cars, the whole deal. The other showed two people mid-fistfight in an alley, the pair illuminated by bright lights. I looked pretty good for being in the middle of a brawl if I do say so myself. The picture showed my red coat drifting behind me elegantly as I kicked the detective in the chest with my lovely, black boots. My brown pigtails floated effortlessly as if I had just landed, and the whole thing was completed by a small, black, top-hat perched slightly off center atop my head. My face was hidden. Overall, I was proud of myself. Not only had I managed exactly what Wraith wanted, but I did so while looking amazing. I wasn't done though. In fact, I was just getting started. Wraith wanted the world in ruin, so ruin he would get.

I sighed as I set foot on campus. People had been looking at me oddly the entire way here, but now, they stopped to stare.

"What do you think happened?"

"Do you think she was in a fight?"

"Maybe she got caught in last night's fire."

I heard voices muttering to those around them, but no one asked me. As I walked, they started to back out of my way. The whispering continued all the way to my Virtualization class. Finally, I escaped into a room full of people who didn't care about anything if it wasn't a computer. Honestly, I love these people. No one asks you questions about yourself and they didn't mind you as long as you didn't screw with their stuff. I took a seat next to Elliot Gray, probably the most tech focused of the bunch.

"You okay? You don't look good." Weird... maybe he was sick or something.

I responded to his muttered question with a small nod and glanced at a new message on my phone.

"You can do better."