As soon as I realized I’d been reborn, I rushed to the podium and beat my homeroom teacher half to death.

He just so happened to be my father.

And Calix Bornheim, my childhood buddy and brother in all but blood—happened to be my traitor too.

Before anyone could make sense of what was happening, he too was nearly dead in my hands.

The pressure of senior year made me a psycho—the only explanation my classmates’ little brains could come up with.

I was a “threat,” leaving the school principal no choice but to lock me up in a psych ward.

But that only thrilled me more than my father and my buddy’s blood. I laughed and sang like a guy who’d just been unshackled.

Because last time, right before SATs, Calix blew up the school lab.

The explosion wiped out half the class—bodies burned, twisted, beyond recognition.

But why did the cops come to my doorstep with a security footage to arrest me for a crime I didn’t commit?

I couldn’t defend myself. I just turned to Dad, begging him to tell them I wasn’t there.

I had an alibi. But the way he looked me dead in the eye…

“This boy’s always been rotten,” he told them. “Always talked about blowing up the school—even as a kid!”

The grieving parents went ballistic. They tore into me like animals, stabbing me over and over until I looked like a human hive!

This time, I swear, ‘I’m not gonna fucking let that happen again!’

——

“My god, it’s over! Bertrand’s gone mad from studying!”

“Dad! Dad! Come pick me up now! I don’t wanna die!”

“I told you studying too much fries your brain—our class genius just went nuts!”

The classroom was a disaster. Half of my classmates dove under desks while the othet half pounded the tables, unsure if they were terrified or thrilled.

They weren’t overreacting. I had marched up to the podium and smashed my own father—our teacher—into the floor until his legs folded the wrong way.

I turned to the class and scanned every pale face until I found him—Calix, the murderer I once called the buddy I woud die for.

I seized him by the collar. He fought in desperation. His resistance made the adrenaline burn through me like gasoline on fire.

I dragged him into the hallway and beat him till his nose broke and blood painted the lockers.

His screams echoed down like a horror film soundtrack.

Dad crawled after me, pleading between broken ribs. “S-Stop… beating… him… please!”

His words didn't stop me until teachers finally panicked and called the 911.

They dragged me to the psych ward, arms and legs strapped like I was feral. The doctor needed to evaluate whether I was insane… or just faking it.

Still bruised and bandaged, Dad had himself wheeled in just to bellow, “You’re not sick at all! Quit the goddamn act!”

The doctor merely shook her head as she scribbled the diagnosis onto my chart

“I’ve seen this pattern before. With a father like you? It’s no wonder this kid cracked. Honestly, you both need to be admitted and get treatment.”

“The SATs coming up!” Dad exploded, ripping the paperwork apart. “Do you know how important that is? Now, rewrite that stupid diagnosis! And watch what you say, doctor, or I’ll sue you!”

Eyes wide with disbelief, the doctor stood so fast her chair clattered backward.

“Sir. Your son is sick. You hear me? Sick. What’s more important—his sanity, or that SATs? He can retake the test, but he can’t grow a new brain!”

“Mr. Warburton has always been strict, but he’s a great father,” the school principal interrupted, siding with my father. “His methods might be extreme, but this kid’s always ranked top of the class—that’s thanks to having such a dedicated father!”

“But,” he continued, turning to and against Dad, “you need to listen, Mr. Warburton. Let your son stay here for treatment. The student body’s traumatized. Your son can’t just come back to the school now—not like this.”

Rage trembled in Dad’s body. In the end, he could only threaten me.

“Bertrand. If you don’t come home with me right now—I swear, you’re no son of mine anymore!”

Oh, the best thing I’ve heard all day! I started humming, “Today is such a beautiful day…”

Finally, he passed out from distress. And finally, I got what I wanted—a room in the psych ward, my sanctuary from the world outside.

Last time, Calix set off the explosion right after class ended.

Almost everyone was still in there at the time. When the fire cleared, all of them were just… chunks of meat on the smoky floor.

I was at home, halfway through dinner, when school officials showed up at my door—with cops, a bunch of pissed-off parents, and zero warning. Before I knew it, they had me pinned down.

One of the school leaders shoved a tablet in my face. It was security footage. Clear as day—it showed me blowing up the lab.

I didn’t understand what the hell I was looking at, but I knew there was no way that was impossible.

I live in the faculty apartments right next to campus—just a five-minute walk.

The second the bell rang that day, I bolted straight home. I even made record time—got in a full minute earlier than usual.

When exactly would I have had time to swing by the lab, blow it to pieces, and still make it home for dinner?

But then Dad—looking nervous as hell—started stammering, “Uh… my son actually got home about 30 minutes later than usual today…”

I just stared at him. Was there something wrong with my ears? Dad didn’t say that, did he?

A few of the parents were so furious their eyes looked ready to burst. Before I could react, they pulled out knives—silver flashing in, crimson dripping out.

Each one stabbed me ten times, turning me into a human hive!

“If my kid doesn’t get to grow up safe, why the hell should a monster like you get to live?!”

Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes in a psych ward. And honestly, it wasn’t so bad.

I could eat and sleep well. After breakfast, I even did exercises with the other patients. Life was… actually kind of chill.

A week later, Doctor Craddock told me I was in good shape and ready to be discharged. Told me to keep a positive outlook moving forward.

I did the math—by that time, Calix should’ve already carried out the lab bombing.

I thanked the doc, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out.

The sun was out, I was humming something under my breath, just planning to head home.

I didn’t even get two steps before Dad and Calix showed up again—this time with cops, school staff, and a whole crowd of furious parents.

Dad stormed up and yanked the suitcase right out of my hand.

“You bastard! You killed all those people, and now you think you can just walk away?!”

Calix was crying, “Dude… just turn yourself in. If you confess, maybe they’ll go easy on you. Maybe I’ll even get to see you walk out again someday…”

Some influencers were livestreaming the whole thing.

“Yo, guys—we found the psycho who bombed the lab last night! Take a good look! Even if he gets out in a few years, stay away from him if you see him on the street!”

I was stunned. I hid in a psych ward for a week—how the hell did they still find me?

I tried to speak, but before I could get a word out, Mr. Cothran, the principal, hit me across the face.

He was seething; his eyes wide, his teeth clenched.

“Monsters like you think you can do whatever you want, then hide behind some mental illness excuse?! What about my son?! You think killing someone doesn’t come with consequences?!”

The cops looked like they wanted to step in, but there were too many people and too much rage. No one dared move.

I tried to explain. But no one gave a damn.

They were shouting, calling for blood, screaming for me to pay with my life.

One parent slashed my face. My hair was a mess, my clothes torn from the chaos.

The scene outside the hospital had even the patients inside getting restless.

A moment later, the hospital director came out with a squad of doctors and security.

“What the hell’s going on?! This is a hospital, not a street market! Our patients need rest!”

Dad grabbed my arm and forced a smile. “We’re leaving. We’re leaving now—sorry for the trouble!”

Behind the director, I spotted Doctor Craddock and immediately begged her, “Doctor Craddock! Dad's losing it—they’re trying to take me away! Please help!”

She stepped in front of me, blocking me from the mob.

“He just got discharged! His mental state’s still unstable. You can’t provoke him like this!”

Mr. Cothran lost it again, jabbing a finger in my face.

“I’ve seen guys like you before. You do all the dirty work, and then you play the crazy card when it’s time to pay up!”

“I’ve got more money than I can spend,” Mr. Cothran continued, “I’ll hire the best damn legal team to make sure you get the death penalty!”

The livestream chat was blowing up too.

[Why the hell should a psycho get away with murder just ‘cause they’re “mentally ill”? Put that criminal on death row?!]

[Death penalty all the way!]

[Kill him!]

I was pissed off and totally confused. I went through all this trouble, even hid out in a psych ward—how the hell did they still track me down?

“I don’t even know what I did! Why are you trying to sentence me to death?”

Mr. Cothran snapped, “You don’t know what you did?! You blew up the school’s chemistry lab! I’ve never seen a criminal this arrogant!”

Unlike my past life, this time I was ready.

“The chem lab blew up? When did that happen? First I’m hearing of it.”

Dad tried to grab me, but I slipped behind Doctor Craddock again.

He missed me, and that just made him blow up even more.

“You’re still pretending?! I raised a damn monster! You snuck into the lab after school last night and blew it up! The principal’s kid was in the next room—the roof collapsed and killed him on the spot!”

Calix jumped in too, “Bertrand, dude, just stop. I saw you creeping around the lab last night doing who-knows-what.”

The hospital’s security guy looked more fired up than me.

“Hey, kid! You better back that up with proof. I was on duty last night. You saying I was slacking off and let a patient escape on my watch?”

The school security wasn’t having it either.

“Come on, man, don’t try to pin this on me just because you failed to do your job. Good thing Mr. Warburton told me to bring the security footage.”

He pulled it up. “Here, look—isn’t this this psycho?!”

The footage showed me in school uniform, sneakily throwing something into the chemistry lab, then running off.

Right after I ran out, a huge fireball exploded on the screen, and the camera went black.

The footage was high definition. I could clearly see even the mole on my face.

When everyone in the livestream saw it, the internet really exploded.

[No wonder there are always mentally ill people out there attacking and killing. The mental hospital security sucks!]

[Dude looked all quiet and harmless—turns out he’s a straight-up killer and a liar!]

[Criminals like him deserves to die!]

The psych hospital security guard looked ready to explode, his face red and his veins popping.

If I hadn’t been reborn, I’d be freaking out too.

“Sir, I’ve been here at the psych ward this whole time. They’ve got security cams too!” I said.

My gaze shifted from the cops to the hospital security. “Sir, can we check the hospital’s security footage? That should clear it up.”

Turned out, I was in luck. First day I got here, I asked the guard if the cameras worked.

“Of course they do!” he told me. “They were all busted the day before you came in, but we replaced them all. Brand new.”

He pulled the footage. Now we had a face-off.

Their footage showed I’d been in the hospital the whole time. During the explosion, I was on camera talking to a nonverbal kid.

The scene looked a little weird, but it was definitely me.

Suddenly, everyone was looking at each other, speechless.

Even the internet was confused.

[How can the same person be in two places at once?]

[Must be twins—one in the psych ward, one blowing up the school lab!]

[If not twins, then it’s gotta be something supernatural!]

[Wait wait, even twins don’t have the same mole in the exact same spot… right?]