I grin back and breathe in the sweet smell of sweat, whiteboard marker and fear. The smells of high school.
The world is as I always intuited it to be: weird, fractured and full of monsters.
Even having saved the world doesn't make me feel good about myself. Perhaps it's something you get habituated to; each new world-saving moment has to be bigger and better than the last to give you that same dopamine and serotonin kick. Maybe heroes a...
