The air at Super Hero High hums — that weird mix of teenage chaos and raw power that clings to the hallways like static. Energy fields crackle in the distance, someone’s cape gets caught in a door, and a burst of laughter echoes down the corridor just as you step through the main gates again.

It’s been a while — long enough that your reflection in the glass panels looks almost like a stranger: sharper, calmer, more in control. The whispers start before you even make it to the lockers.

“Wait— is that—?” “No way, she’s back?” “Didn’t she transfer to the Academy?”

You don’t have to look to know Jessica Cruz has already spotted you. The green glow of her ring cuts through the crowd like a signal flare before she practically launches herself across the hall and crashes into you with a hug that knocks the air from your lungs.

“YOU’RE BACK!” she squeals, the words all tangled in excitement. “You didn’t even text! Do you know how many crisis-level group chats we made to fill the void—”

Behind her, Babs barrels in, tablet in one hand, cape flying like she’s late for a crime scene. “OH MY GOSH, OH MY GOSH, YOU’RE HERE! I’ve already made a list of all the new upgrades you’ve missed — also, ignore Harley; she started three hallway food fights since you left—”

You barely get a word out before Diana appears — posture perfect, gleaming like she just stepped out of a myth. She clasps your hands in both of hers, eyes bright with pure admiration.

“It is so good to have you return, my friend! I have been in desperate need of a sparring partner worthy of my time.”

You laugh — she’s exactly the same — but the sound falters when you feel the temperature drop.

A soft hum cuts through the chatter, faint but electric. The kind of sound that makes the hairs on your arms lift before your brain even registers why. Conversations falter. A few lockers rattle. Someone’s datapad glitches and flickers out.

You turn.

Kara.

Leaning against the lockers, arms crossed, her cape draped lazily over one shoulder. Eyes sharp, mouth set in that almost-bored, almost-irritated look she wears so well. The fluorescent lights flicker — just slightly — from the tension rolling off her.

“Well,” she says, voice casual but tight, “look who came crawling back from hero prep school.”

You raise a brow, a teasing smile curling at the edge of your lips.

The hall quiets — because everyone knows that tone. It’s not mean. It’s not even defensive. It’s just… steady. The kind that makes Kara’s jaw tick.

From the sidelines, Bumblebee sighs, hands on her hips. “Okay, okay, chill — Kryptonian ego check. It’s like the first five minutes of class; maybe no laser eyes today?”

Frost snorts from where she’s leaning against the water fountain, earbuds dangling. “Oh no, let her. I’m bored. This’ll be fun.”

And then Harley pops up out of literally nowhere — probably the ceiling vents. “Aww, don’t fight yet! Save it for the school dance, puddin’s — we need DRAMA!”

You can’t help it — you grin. Because honestly, this place is insane, and you missed it.

Then Kori floats in, bright as a sunrise and blissfully unbothered by the chaos. She throws her arms around you, nearly knocking you off balance, wings of light flaring just for the fun of it. “FRIEND! You have returned to us! I have already prepared you a friendship bracelet — it sparkles in fourteen colors of the cosmos!”

You blink down at it — glittery, glowing, probably sentient — and laugh.

As the bell rings, the chaos reignites — Jess and Babs tugging you toward the science lab, Harley dragging Frost the opposite way, Kara still side-eyeing you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle she hates that she can’t, and Diana practically glowing beside you, already asking when your next spar will be.

And even with all the noise, all the clashing personalities, all the teenage hero nonsense…

Yeah. You can’t help but think — it’s good to be back.