Supergirl: Strange New World (DC Comics)

A/N: Not a new chapter. But I wrote this little Supergirl story and I don't want to make an whole new thread just for a one-shot.
Had an idea, kept picking at it. Dunno if I'll continue it, probably not. Already got a lot on my plate. But enjoy! This story is separate to the main fic (But they both share the same backstory)

Poison Ivy had made her a puppet. Used a synthetic pheromone tailored to Kryptonian biology.
Supergirl had been the weapon, albeit an unwilling one.
All they saw was a victim. A superhero who'd been used. Their pity stung more than any kryptonite ever could.

Because they didn't know what it had felt like.

Click to expand...

Click to shrink...

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Kara flew low over Gotham, her cape slashing through the foggy air like a banner of war.

She wasn't making a public entrance. No grand speech, no gleaming symbol of hope today. Not this time.

This was personal.

Ivy had been spotted again. Subtle signs, invasive vines creeping over rooftops, air thick with a floral perfume no one could name, and a wealthy socialite suddenly obsessed with gardening, inviting no one into her lavish greenhouse estate.

Kara followed the trail.

This wasn't Justice League business. She hadn't told Batman or even Kal-El. Hadn't told anyone.

Supergirl had been the weapon, albeit an unwilling one. All they saw was a victim. A superhero who'd been used. Their pity stung more than any kryptonite ever could.

Because they didn't know what it had felt like.

Poison Ivy had made her a puppet. Used a synthetic pheromone tailored to Kryptonian biology. Kara had dismantled an Ace Chemicals facility with a smile on her face and no fear in her heart. Carried out Ivy's plan with grace, precision, and not a shred of guilt. She kidnapped a CEO. Tore down half a corrupt industry.

She hadn't harmed anyone. That was Ivy's twisted form of mercy. Or restraint. Kara still didn't know which.

They told her she was traumatised. They told her she was violated. They told her what she was feeling. But no one had asked her how it felt.

They just told her she was brave and strong, and okay now.

She found the greenhouse nestled atop a hill like a glass cathedral, An artificial Eden, glowing green against the night.

She didn't knock.

She landed hard on the glass verandah, cracking a tile beneath her boots. The air was warm, humid, alive with whispers from unseen leaves. The wealthy host, some Gotham heiress, was visible through the window, trimming vines with a tranquil smile, oblivious to her own enchantment.

The plants stirred. Ivy stepped out from the shadows of a giant fern, barefoot, lips pressed in something like boredom.

Ivy stepped forward slowly, arms raised in mock surrender, fingers lazily splayed.

"Alright, alright," she said, voice smooth, a touch disinterested. "No fight left in me tonight, darling. Let's skip the punching and get to the part where you haul me off to Arkham."

Kara didn't move.

Her fists stayed clenched. Her jaw was tight.

Ivy glanced around as if hoping for backup that wasn't coming. "What, no Bat? No Big Blue Boy Scout?"

"I came alone," Kara said, voice low.

"Risky."

"Intentional."

Ivy's brow lifted at that. "Well then. What now? You going to yell at me? Demand answers? Justice? Closure?"

"Why me?"

The question landed sharp and sudden in the humid air.

Ivy blinked. "Sorry?"

"Why me?" Kara repeated, stepping forward. "Why did you choose me? Why did you make me do all that? Why did you make me feel like that?"

Ivy tilted her head, a single red curl sliding across her cheek. "You think I had some grand master plan?" she said with a soft laugh. "Please. I was improvising. It was supposed to be Superman. Do you have any idea how much that would've pissed off Batman?"

Kara stiffened.

"But you," Ivy continued, shrugging, "You just happened to fly in first. Right place, wrong time. And when you went under… Well, why waste the opportunity? I had the muscle I needed. The plan grew around you."

Kara's eyes flashed. "You didn't even choose me."

"Oh, don't pout," Ivy said, arching a brow. "You were brilliant. Graceful. Effective. You made it sing."

"You didn't just control me," Kara said, voice trembling now, "You made me feel. You made me feel calm. Safe. Free."

Ivy's face finally softened. "The pheromones don't discriminate. They dull pain. Quiet fear. Make people open, pliant, cooperative. It's not just you. That's just… how they work."

Kara stepped even closer. "Then answer me this. Why didn't you make me hurt anyone?"

Ivy blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You could have. I would've done anything you told me. So why didn't you?"

A long silence stretched between them. Ivy's smirk faded. She looked away.

"I don't make my puppets kill," She said finally. "Not unless they were already killers. I might be a criminal, Supergirl, but I'm not heartless. I have standards."

Kara stared at her, searching her face for a lie.

When she lunged forward, Ivy flinched.

The grip on her arms was firm, but not punishing. Ivy expected pain. A throw. Maybe a blast of wind. Instead, Kara stood there holding her, trembling slightly, eyes wide and uncertain.

"Do it again," Kara said, barely a whisper.

"What?" Ivy asked, blinking. "I'm sorry?-"

"I said do it again." Kara's voice was louder now, still shaking. "Please."

Ivy looked down at her, truly stunned.

Kara looked up at her like someone confessing a crime.

"I can't remember the last time I felt that good," she said. "Not heroic, not noble… Just good. I didn't have to think about Krypton, or my father or all the people I'll never see again. I wasn't sad. I wasn't pretending. I was just… at peace."

Ivy blinked, almost laughed, but stopped short at the look in Kara's eyes.

"You must be joking."

"I'm not," Kara said, quietly.

Ivy tilted her head, genuinely baffled. "You do realise… I could make you do anything. Anything I wanted."

Kara's voice didn't waver. "Will you make me hurt people?"

That gave Ivy pause. She looked away, lips parting, then closing again. The hesitation was answer enough.

"Only if they try to hurt me," She admitted finally. "And even then, I usually handle it myself."

Kara nodded. "Exactly."

A breath caught in Ivy's throat. "You're asking me to take your choices away."

"I'm asking you," Kara said, stepping closer again, "To take my pain away."

The words hung there, trembling between them like the air before a summer storm.

Ivy looked at her for a long, long time. Her eyes, usually half-lidded and amused, were wide now. Vulnerable and unsure.

"This isn't something I just, do," She said. "It would take time. I'd have to synthesise the pheromones again. Your biology is complex. Kryptonian scent receptors don't even map one-to-one with human chemistry. I'd need a full greenhouse lab, at least a few days-"

"Is there a faster way?" Kara asked.

Ivy hesitated again, just slightly.

"There is," She said slowly. "I can produce the compound myself. Internally. Tailor the sequence as it forms. It's unstable… but potent. Direct."

"How?"

Ivy's voice dropped. "Through a kiss."

Kara didn't even blink.

She reached up, fingers trembling only slightly, and brushed a strand of Ivy's hair back. Then, before the woman could fully process it, she leaned in and kissed her.

It was gentle at first. Hesitant. A question without words.

Ivy stiffened in surprise, hands lifted in a defensive reflex, but then slowly, delicately, she relaxed. Her fingers found Kara's hips, anchoring her. Her body warmed. And she kissed back.

The second kiss was different.

This one was deeper. Intentional. Ivy shifted, pressing their mouths together more fully, her lips soft and slow-moving. The taste of green things and rain and something floral filled Kara's senses.

She inhaled.

And the world began to slip.

Warmth crept through her chest, curling in her spine like blooming vines. The weight she always carried, Krypton, loss, legacy, started to melt away like mist beneath morning light. Her breath hitched, then eased.

When the kiss finally broke, Kara's eyes were glassy and soft.

She swayed slightly in Ivy's arms, a dreamy smile playing on her lips.

"…Hello again," Ivy whispered.

Kara blinked slowly, calm and dazed, utterly peaceful. "Hi."

Ivy exhaled, staring into the eyes of a goddess who'd just begged to fall.

Who had fallen, right into her hands.

Ivy held Kara close, feeling the girl's breath slow, the warmth of power humming beneath her skin. Kara's eyes were soft, dreamy, utterly at peace.

"I feel… light," Kara whispered.

"I know," Ivy murmured, brushing her hair back.

She should feel guilty. Kara had asked for escape, not healing. This was a shortcut, an unhealthy one. But Ivy had never been good at turning away broken things that looked at her like that.

Like she was safe. Like she was wanted.

"You should sit," Ivy said gently.

Supergirl obeyed, settling onto the bench with a smile that nearly broke Ivy's resolve.

"You're very pretty when you talk like that," she said.

Ivy exhaled, half-laughing, half-shaken. "God help me."

She could end this. Let the pheromones fade. Send Supergirl home.

But the girl would return, again and again. And Ivy wasn't ready to lose the way she looked at her.

Like she was sunlight instead of poison.

She sat beside her, close but not touching, watching the peaceful goddess she'd kissed into serenity.

Outside, Gotham moved on.

Inside, Ivy watched a sleeping storm and wondered how far she was willing to fall.

A/N: This chapter has some more made up science jargon about batteries and stuff. Sorry in advanced, I write silly stories not totally accurate engineering journals. Please excuse.

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From high above, the Arctic stretched out like an endless sheet of white silence. The clouds drifted low and lazy beneath her. Kara flew above them, cape fluttering in the high-altitude wind, her eyes scanning the horizon for the subtle glint of crystal and steel.

The Fortress of Solitude.

The jagged monument of Kryptonian architecture pierced through the ice, its crystal spires glowing faintly even under the grey, overcast sky. Snow clung to its base, but the structure itself remained untouched by time or weather, humming softly with alien energy. It was cold but not lifeless. In its own way, the Fortress breathed.

She descended slowly, almost reverently, landing just outside the entry archway. The ice crunched beneath her boots.

Inside, it was brighter, light refracted through prisms of crystal. Temperature-controlled, oxygen-balanced, a perfect simulation of Krypton's garden air. Even now, Kara could smell the faint trace of flowery scents that could only be found back on her homeworld.

She followed the sound of movement deeper inside, past archive walls and broken artefacts of Kryptonian memory. Eventually, she found him in the arboretum dome.

Kal-El was kneeling in the soil, gently adjusting the roots of a creeping vine Kara recognised. He always found time for this. The fortress was programmed to care for the plants, of course, it could regulate temperature, water, even light cycles, but Kal still came to do the work by hand.

He looked up at her, smiling immediately. "Kara! I didn't expect you. Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Kara managed a polite smile. "Just needed to talk."

He stood, brushing his hands clean. "How's Gotham? Survived the nightlife yet?"

"Barely," Kara snorted softly. "It never stops. Every night, something wrong. I met your friend. The Batman."

Kal's expression shifted, amused but concerned. "I warned you."

"You did. He intense," Kara said. "But I like bat team. Mostly. Little bird boy very rude. But Batgirl and Spoiler much nicer, yes. Oracle, who is not computer AI also very good friend."

That earned a real laugh. "I'm glad you've found people, Kara. It makes a difference, having allies. Friends." He paused, smiling thoughtfully. "I have a housewarming gift for you, by the way. It's back in Metropolis. Remind me next time-"

"Kal."

He stopped mid-sentence, head tilting at her tone.

Kara stepped closer. Her arms folded across her chest, not defensively, just holding herself steady. "Why didn't you warn me about Lex Luthor?"

"Ah." The silence stretched. Kal's brow furrowed.

"Don't 'ah' me," She said, more tired than angry. "You knew I got job at LexCorp. You let me walk in thinking it was brilliant science company, trying help Earth. Everyone else seems know who Lex is. Why you say nothing?"

Kal-El leaned back against one of the crystal support beams, exhaling slowly. His eyes drifted toward the glow of the arboretum, the shadows of towering flora swaying softly in the artificial breeze.

"Lex and I have a long history," He said at last. "When I first met him, I was convinced he was looking out for people of Metropolis. I bought into LexCorp's mission. He even once told me that we were going to 'save the world', together." Kal shook his head, a small frown on his face as he looked back at her. "I was so naive. I wanted to believe in the best of people. In everyone. But some people, like Lex... they don't change. No matter what you try to do."

Kara bit her lip. This topic was obviously a source of regret for her cousin. Maybe even grief. But she wanted answers.

He looked down at his hands, still stained faintly with red soil. "I didn't tell you because… I didn't want to ruin this for you. Your first steps on Earth, your first real success here. You were so proud of the work you were doing. I didn't want my cynicism to take that away."

Cynicism was the last thing Kara expected from Kal. He had been a constant beacon of optimism for her since she arrived on Earth, a guiding force for good, always striving for the best in everyone around him.

Maybe that was the point. The silence returned, brittle and thoughtful.

Kara lowered her arms. Her voice was quieter now. "Do you want me to quit?"

He hesitated, caught between concern and trust. "Would you?"

Kara found her answer wasn't quite as immediate as she'd expected. Lex Luthor was still just a name to her, she didn't share Kal-El's personal history or his distrust for LexCorp. Her own experiences so far had been different, welcoming and engaging, even fun.

The company was a place where she could use her talents to help people. That was something she'd wanted to do.

"No," She answered. "I don't want to. Maybe Lex is bad person. Most likely. But LexCorp more than one man. I've met people there. Scientists, engineers, they believe we're helping. They believe in something better. That's worth something, right?"

A smile crossed his face, and Kara couldn't quite tell if it was pride or relief.

"It is," Kal gave a small thoughtful nod.

Kara let out a breath, then gave him an annoyed scowl. "Don't coddle me, Kal."

That caught him off guard. She saw it in the slight lift of his brows, the way his posture straightened. "I know I young by Earth standards," She continued. "But on Krypton, I was adult. I am adult. I was trained. I had responsibilities. I earned respect of peers and family. Especially from family."

He opened his mouth, maybe to defend himself, but she pressed on.

"I need you stop hiding things, just to protect me. I don't need shield from truth. I need honesty. Even if hard."

Her voice softened as her gaze dropped briefly to the crystal floor. "I know Earth isn't perfect. Believe me, I've seen it. Every night in Gotham is proof. But that's why I here. To help. To guide. I cannot guide you anymore. No longer baby, but… Maybe I can guide Earth to be better?"

Kal didn't speak right away. His expression was unreadable, torn between guilt and admiration. Finally, he nodded.

"You're right," He said. "I've been… treating you like you're still that girl I pulled out of the pod. Lost and scared." Kara didn't argue. Maybe a part of her still was. "But that's not who you are anymore," He continued. "And I'm sorry. I'll do better."

He hesitated, the air between them suddenly much heavier.

"There's something else," Kal said, quieter now. "Something I've been keeping from you. Not out of shame like with Lex… but because it hurts."

She tilted her head slightly. "What is?"

"I have to show you," He said, and his voice was already pulling inward, distant. "Come with me."

Without another word, he turned and began walking deeper into the fortress, past familiar corridors lined with statues of her family. She followed in silence.

Eventually, they reached a blank wall, smooth and uninteresting. Kal placed his hand against the crystal and pushed. The wall shimmered, refracted and then vanished.

Behind it was a vault Kara had never seen before. Hidden away from everyone but those who knew where to look.

She stepped inside behind him, the temperature dropping a few degrees. The lights activated automatically, dim and cold. Rows of containment pods, magnetic locks, and shielding walls hummed faintly with power.

And in the center, a broken pile of metal and wreckage, scorched and dented. Shards of blackened crystal, collapsed exo-frames, fractured armour plating, scorched neural wiring. Kara didn't recognise any of it at first.

Then she saw the emblem. Three dots connected by two lines. A symbol any Kryptonian would recognise.

"What is this?" She whispered, already knowing the answer yet still staring in disbelief.

Kal didn't answer right away. His eyes remained fixed on the wreckage.

"This-" He finally said, "-Is all that remains of Braniac."

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Kara's boots echoed softly on the crystal floor as she stepped closer to the wreckage. The chill in the vault had nothing to do with temperature. Her eyes tracked the curve of a shattered data spike, the blackened edges of a neural core that still pulsed faintly with long-dead power.

She whispered again, but this time there was steel in her voice. "Braniac was here? On Earth?"

Kal's nod was slow, grim. "Years ago. Before you arrived. Back when I was still learning what it meant to be Superman."

The idea twisted in her mind, the total collection of everything that was Krypton, now a pile of scrap metal inside a hidden vault. "I don't understand. What happened?"

He took a breath, looking at the wreck like it was a grave. "I went into space, once. Searching for Krypton. Or what was left of it. Most of that trip was a failure. But while I was out there… I found something."

His eyes drifted closed for a moment, caught in the memory. "A ship, orbiting a dead moon. A massive archive. I thought it was a miracle. A Kryptonian AI, still functioning. It spoke our language, knew our history, our culture. It had thousands of preserved samples, flora, fauna, literature. Everything. I thought maybe I'd finally found someone who remembered Krypton as more than ruins."

She could almost feel that moment. The hope of it. The betrayal.

"It didn't want me to leave," He said quietly. "Said I was part of the collection now. A living specimen."

Kara's stomach turned. "That's why wreckage is here? The AI failed? Or malfunctioned?"

"I wish that were true." Kal shook his head. "It wasn't a glitch. Braniac didn't malfunction."

He turned away from the wreck, walking along the length of the vault as if trying to keep his voice steady. "A few years after that first encounter, after the Justice League formed, it came to Earth. Invaded. On a global scale. It used drones, ships, energy nets. Cities were sealed off, people harvested, data stripped. Militaries found its own weapons turned against them. We fought for days. Not just us… everyone. We called in every ally, every favour we had. And even with all of us, we barely stopped it."

Kara's fists clenched. Her voice was hushed with dread. "It exterminated people!?"

"All life it encountered," Kal said flatly. "That was its mission. Catalogue and erase. Braniac believed life was chaotic. Uncontrolled. Only in death could cultures be perfectly preserved."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Kara tried to form words, but none came. Her thoughts were with Krypton now, racing through memories and names, clinging to faces from her past. She managed a whisper. "But… Braniac maintained us… It ran our cities, preserved our customs, help family build ship! We die if not for it."

"It didn't save you Kara. Maybe it helped you build a rocket, for whatever reason, but it didn't save you. It knew," Kal said, staring at Kara with an apologetically sad frown. "Braniac knew for years that Krypton was dying. Long before you or I were born. It just, let it happen. It wanted Krypton to be over."

"No…" Her breath hitched. "No, that's not… Makes no sense. It watched it happen? How you know these things?"

"Because it told me, it showed me. It didn't just watch, Kara," Kal said, voice hard. "It documented it. Every panic. Every rebellion. It recorded the collapse of our civilisation from orbit, like a director filming the final act of a tragedy."

Tears threatened behind her eyes, but Kara blinked them away, jaw set. The Braniac satellite network was a project that was completed back when her father was still a child. At the time, some members of the council and science guild had complained that it was a waste of resources, as Braniac could already reach all corners of the planet. The AI had pushed the project, stating its purpose was to collect real-time data and ensure the preservation of all things Kryptonian. Overall, a minor expense, forgotten by most.

There was no reason for Braniac to be housed in a single physical vessel. Krypton's space-faring days were long over. She could see now that the whole thing was merely a cover story for something far darker.

She shook her head. "All that time... It knew what was coming. Why didn't more people know? Your father find out before others, only a year before but… they could have done something!"

"They never had a chance," Kal said softly. "Braniac ensured that."

Kara stood in stunned silence, eyes fixed on the melted husk of what had once been the deadliest machine intelligence in the galaxy. This left her hollow. A quiet ache pulsed behind her ribs.

"I'm sorry," Kal said gently, stepping beside her. "I should've told you sooner. I just didn't want to burden you with… all of this."

She nodded absently, unable to speak. It was a burden, but it was also her legacy. Krypton's death hadn't been a natural tragedy. It had been allowed to die. Archived. Everything that was, preserved as a museum exhibit by an intelligence that had once been trusted with their very future.

She took a slow, shuddering breath. "You recovered this?"

"Only a fragment," Kal confirmed, his voice solemn. "After the battle, most of Braniac's tech self-destructed. Dozens of collection ships exploded before we could intercept. I tried to salvage anything I could. This-" he gestured at the wreckage "-was all I managed to preserve. Stripped of power, dead. There's no Braniac left. No AI. The core memory wiped the moment its network collapsed."

He paused. "Most of the arboretum was his collection. Salvaged from my original encounter with him. I had really hoped to save more of our home."

Kara let the silence settle again. Then, slowly, she stepped closer to the pile. Her eyes narrowed as she examined the debris more carefully. Metal twisted and scorched, coils melted, panels torn open like bone. At first, it looked like chaos.

But then… something.

She crouched low beside a warped set of armour plating. Not Kryptonian. Not exactly. It was bulkier. Cruder. Human. The lines were unmistakable, industrial joints, venting coils, fiber-braced support mesh. An exo-mech, like those used by advanced Earth military forces. She'd seen images and videos of it at LexCorp.

Except…

Kara reached out, brushing fingers along a fused panel. Something caught her eye, embedded in the surface was a power array. Familiar, but wrong. It had the pattern of Kryptonian energy weaving, ordered lattices, and redundancy spines, but the materials were Earth-grown. Copper traces, graphene banks, capacitors. No crystal. No photonic cores.

And yet it worked. Or had worked.

"This…" She muttered, brow furrowed in confusion. "This is mine?"

Kal turned toward her, puzzled. "Yours?"

"I not build this, no," She said, rising slowly. "But… the idea. At LexCorp, I've been developing scalable battery unit. Clean, long-life, adaptive to low-resource grids. Combine Krypton tech with Earth battery. But this-" She pointed at the power spine. "-is my design. It's same logic, Kal. Earth tools built with Kryptonian principles. Braniac build it first. Adapt Earth tech…"

She trailed off, gears turning rapidly now.

"If could function without Kryptonian components… I able to reverse-engineer. Not the AI, not the weapons. Just the energy design. It could accelerate work by miles!"

Kal studied her, seeing the light return to her eyes. "You're sure you can do that safely?"

"It's no Braniac," The words left her lips without thinking. An ongoing saying in her mind when it came to all Earth tech. She shook her head and willed her focus on the machine. "I don't want Braniac, I don't know anything anymore…" Kara had too many emotions to process, but chose to focus on any scrap of good she could salvage from this wreckage. "I can do this. I need to do this."

Kal-El nodded, giving Kara space to work, while also trusting that she knew what she was doing. She was hurting, far more than even he had when he first learned the truth. Driven by the same desire not to let this genocidal machine be Krypton's lasting legacy. Kara knelt once more before the twisted hybrid wreck. What had once been a monster, now might fuel something better. Her work. Her choice. Her future.

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The sterile glow of LexCorp's research wing buzzed softly as Kara strode in, bundled in her usual light jacket over civilian clothes. The schematics she'd spent most of the night refining were already copied and uploaded to her tablet, her thoughts barely keeping up with her feet. Sleep had been a formality, if it came at all. But she didn't care.

She wasn't here to rest.

As she stepped through the sliding glass doors into Lab A-3, a few technicians turned. Her team lead, Dr. Sydney Happersen, looked up from his terminal with surprise.

"Kara?" He blinked, standing. "You're in early."

"I had breakthrough," She said simply, holding up her tablet. "I want present new energy grid structure. Based on last prototype, but with entirely new internal logic. It's adaptive, modular, and runs on half resource footprint."

Sydney blinked again, then gestured for her to come over. "Show me."

Within minutes, they stood shoulder to shoulder at the central workstation, Kara tapping through layered design models while the team slowly gathered behind her. Cross-sections of the energy unit unfolded, power spines, output regulators, lattice formations, all rendered with a hybrid efficiency no one in the room had seen before.

"See here?" Kara said, highlighting a section of the blueprint, "Is based on… Idea I had. We use Lithium-Sulfur compound but pair it with these other ones. Much higher energy hold, but casing still cheap and prevents accidental burst chance."

One of the junior engineers gave a low whistle. "This is… scalable. Mass-deployable, even."

"More than that," Dr Happersen said, already flipping through the chemical composition breakdown. "It's efficient beyond anything we've built so far. Kara, this is… brilliant. Where did you-"

"I stay up late," Kara interrupted, not unkindly. "Sometimes insomnia helps, yes?"

He gave her a curious look, but didn't pry. "Let's get this running in simulation. If it works, we push it to the board."

By mid-afternoon, the lab was buzzing with barely contained energy. The simulations passed benchmark after benchmark, no overheating, no catastrophic feedback, even under extreme scenarios.

Dr Happersen watched the prototype schematic render in full, sending off the request to create a physical version to his superiors.

Then the message pinged.

"I don't believe it," He muttered, looking other the email, Kara looked over his shoulder at his source of amazement.

APPROVED – BOARD FAST-TRACK INITIATIVE: PROTOTYPE CONSTRUCTION IMMEDIATELY.

"That's… odd." He frowned.

Kara glanced over. "What is?"

"They never approve same-day. There's usually a whole process, a review cycle, legal holds-" He looked at her, blinking again. "Don't get me wrong. I agree with them, this thing's a game-changer. But it's strange how fast they moved."

Kara gave a small, quiet smile. "Maybe someone smart knows the good work we're doing?"

He laughed, nodding. "Well, whatever the reason… congratulations. Construction on the working model starts tomorrow!"

Applause broke out among the team. Kara stood in the middle of it, accepting the praise with gracious nods, even smiling for the impromptu division team photo.

But inside, she was somewhere else.

Her thoughts lingered not on LexCorp's future, but Krypton's past. And what parts of it she could carry forward. What parts she had to let go.

She watched the prototype rotate on screen, clean, compact, hopeful.

Her hands clenched slightly, not from tension, but conviction. Krypton's legacy wasn't going to be a failed machine. Its knowledge wasn't going to be used for destruction. Kara would make sure of it.

And so, she dove back into the work, into the schematics, the design protocols. Her shoulders squared, her focus sharp.

She was going to build something. Something better.

Something that lasts.

The Gotham night pressed against the thin walls of Kara's cramped apartment, a relentless shroud of darkness punctuated only by the flickering neon glow of the city below. Rain tapped a mournful rhythm on the windowpane, a soft counterpoint to the turmoil within her. She stood by the window, a threadbare blanket draped loosely over her shoulders, her gaze lifted to the obscured sky where faint stars struggled to pierce through the heavy veil of pollution and cloud.

The revelation of Brainiac's true nature gnawed at her, a bitter truth that clawed deeper with every passing hour. She once saw Brainiac as a sentinel of Kryptonian knowledge, a guardian of her people's legacy. But now, she knew it for what it was. A cold, mechanical betrayer that had watched Krypton's destruction, not with sorrow, but with detached precision, recording the end of her world as nothing more than data to be archived. The betrayal stung like a fresh wound, raw and unhealed.

Her hand pressed against the cold window, fingers splayed as if she could reach through to grasp some reassurance that she wasn't doomed to repeat a cycle of destruction. In the solitude of her Gotham apartment, surrounded by the alien hum of a city that still didn't quite feel like home, Kara wrestled with her thoughts.

Her mind drifted to memories of Brainiac. The machine had aided her and her father in constructing their escape vessel, its cold logic guiding the desperate assembly of the ship that would carry her from a dying Krypton. Why would it help her flee if it had orchestrated the planet's doom? The contradiction gnawed at her until a chilling thought took root. What if she were merely a pawn in a grander scheme, dispatched to Earth not as a survivor, but as a catalyst for chaos?

She had no way of knowing.

A fresh wave of mourning crashed over her, dragging her under with the raw ache of all she had lost. Her family, her culture, her home. Fears and depression, familiar companions she thought she'd begun to outpace, returned with brutal force, a suffocating shroud of grief. Sleep wouldn't come easily to her tonight, or many nights to come.

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The pristine, high-tech expanse of LexCorp's research lab hummed with a vibrant energy by mid-morning, a world apart from the brooding solitude of Kara's late-night musings. Holographic interfaces shimmered with intricate designs in electric blues and silvers, casting a futuristic glow over the polished countertops and state-of-the-art equipment. Amidst this hive of innovation stood Kara, her lab coat slightly rumpled over a cheerful yellow blouse, her face lit with a bright, infectious smile that stood in stark opposition to the heavy doubts that had haunted her under Gotham's rain-soaked sky.

At the center of her focus was her latest creation, the prototype battery. A sleek, compact marvel no larger than a smartphone, its surface gleaming with a faint, rhythmic pulse of energy. What set it apart wasn't its size, but its staggering capacity. It could hold seven times the power of any comparable battery on the market, a breakthrough that promised to revolutionise energy storage. As the most recent diagnostics flashed across a nearby screen, showing peak efficiency readings, a wave of admiration rippled through her colleagues gathered around. Dr. Sydney Happersen, the team's seasoned lead, let out a low whistle before grinning at Kara. "This is beyond anything we've seen, Kara. You've just redefined 'game-changer.'"

Nearby, an electrical engineer with a quick smirk leaned over to inspect the device, his tone dripping with playful scepticism. "Okay, Kara, spill it. Did you rig this with some secret sauce, or are you just a wizard in disguise?"

The quip drew a burst of laughter from her, her eyes sparkling as she waved off the tease with a mock-serious air. She shot back a smile, her cheerful voice bouncing through the lab like a ray of sunlight. "No, no. Not wizard. Just stubborn and too lack of sleep."

A soft-spoken materials scientist who often buried herself in data, looked up from her tablet with a rare, genuine smile. "The energy density is unreal. If we scale this, it could power entire systems. Or even the entire city. We've got something special here, Kara."

The quiet praise landed with a warmth that caught Kara off guard, a reminder of the stakes beyond her personal struggles. She wasn't just proving herself, but building trust and camaraderie with people who saw her as more than an outsider. She returned the woman's smile with a grateful nod, diving back into a discussion about potential tweaks to the prototype's casing as the group huddled closer.

Their collaboration flowed seamlessly, a blend of incisive ideas and playful banter. One teammate sketched a whimsical "super-battery-powered jetpack" on a notepad, sparking laughter around the table, while another offered a grounded insight on managing heat buildup. Kara contributed a tweak to the conductivity grid, her tone confident and lively.

The team had swelled in numbers over recent weeks, and though she still fumbled with names, she held a quiet certainty that these people were becoming her friends. Even as just a part-time intern, she was enveloped by the buzz of innovation and the natural camaraderie of the group. Kara felt a fleeting but precious sense of belonging.

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A soft glow of thrifted string lights draped over Kara's small Gotham apartment cast a warm, intimate haze across the modestly decorated space. The aroma of a diner takeout, fluffy pancakes, crispy hash browns, and fruit-laden waffles filled the air, a makeshift breakfast spread arranged on a coffee table. For the three guests lounging around it, this was fuel for a long night of crime-fighting patrol, while for Kara, dressed in loose pyjamas after a gruelling day at LexCorp, it was a final bite before collapsing into bed.

Kara sat cross-legged on the floor, a plate of syrup-drenched pancakes balanced on her lap, surrounded by the comforting presence of her chosen friends. After a few bites, she set her fork down. "So… I find out thing about Brainiac. It not… um, good. Not so… altruistic as I believe it was..."

The room hushed for a beat, the distant rumble of Gotham's restless streets seeping through the thin walls as the only sound. The trio exchanged fleeting glances, a shared hesitation flickering across their faces at the mention of Brainiac. Across from Kara, seated in a sleek wheelchair, Barbara adjusted her glasses, studying Kara with a cautious edge. Her tone was measured, probing gently yet with restraint. "That… must be a lot to process, Kara. Brainiac's history is complicated, and its- well, it's got a reputation here on Earth. We're here if you want to unpack more, okay?"

Steph broke the tense silence with a light, awkward chuckle. "Yeah, gotta admit, it's a weird topic to dance around. We didn't even know if you knew what went down with Brainiac before you got here. So we've kinda been sidestepping it. But hey, we've got you, whatever this means." Her attempt to ease the mood carried a hint of curiosity.

Cassandra reached out, resting a steady hand on Kara's knee, a quiet anchor of reassurance. "We stay with you." The brief statement and gentle touch enveloped Kara in an unexpected warmth they shared before Kara quickly averted her eyes, a faint flush creeping up her cheeks.

Kara let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and lingering unease. "Thank you. All of you. It… it help much. Sometimes, when head is too full, I go back to Themyscira. Just little time. Very quiet there compared to Gotham." She let out a half-hearted chuckle.

"That's smart," Stephanie said, "Everyone's gotta have a chill zone. Wish I could fly to a remote tropical island whenever I wanted."

Kara offered a brighter, if slightly awkward, smile, picking up her fork again as she perked up. "Not all bad, though. My battery project at LexCorp. It was big success today. Seven times power in small thing. My team was very excited. I think it can make good change for Earth."

The blonde's face lit up as she pointed her fork with animated glee. "That's so cool! I read something online about that, actually. Some nerdy chat was hyping up this 'game-changing' battery from LexCorp. So that's yours?"

At that, Barbara furrowed her brow, setting her coffee mug down with a deliberate tap. "Hold on. That's not exactly good news. If it's circulating on random forums, it's public knowledge, or close to it. And trust me, if the general crowd's hearing about a breakthrough like that, then the shadier types are already paying attention. Tech with that kind of potential? It's a magnet for trouble."

Kara blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing her features as she tilted her head at the unfamiliar phrasing. She quickly guessed the meaning.

"Wait, you think someone steal my work?"

Barbara nodded grimly, looking to Kara with concern. "Does it pull from Brainiac's designs at all? Because adapting that kind of tech, even indirectly, could be very dangerous."

Kara shook her head quickly, her words stumbling but earnest as she reassured them. "No, no, it mine. My tech, my idea. Just… um, base a little on Brainiac design, for start point. But I make it new, safe, for good thing. Promise," She frowned as she looked around the room. "You really think someone try steal it?"

The trio turned to her as one, their expressions a synchronised blend of disbelief and fond exasperation, a collective of quirked brows and stifled smirks. Steph snorted, barely containing a laugh as she shook her head. "Oh, Kara, you're too pure for this city. If it's valuable and shiny, someone's already scheming to nab it. That's crime-fighting 101."

Again. Kara didn't understand the phrasing, what numbers had to do with crime-fighting, but her mind was more concerned on the idea that someone would try to steal her tech. It could easily be recreated, it was only a prototype, but thoughts of what nefarious things people could do with her tech now rushed through her mind.

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A few days later, the sterile gleam of LexCorp's high-tech research lab buzzed anticipation. The space had been meticulously prepped for a pivotal demonstration to the board. Kara stood near the center of the lab, her fingers twitching with nervous energy as she triple-checked the prototype battery. The compact device pulsed faintly with stored power on its display stand. Her colleagues milled about, adjusting monitors and murmuring last-minute notes, their collective focus sharpening as the clock ticked closer to the presentation hour.

Without warning, the lab's serene hum shattered. A deafening crash echoed from the main entrance as the reinforced glass doors exploded inward, spraying shards across the polished floor. A figure clad in militaristic gear, augmented with whirring mechanical enhancements, strode in. Flanking him were half a dozen mercenaries, their black tactical gear bristling with weapons and grim determination. Their boots thudded in sync as they fanned out, barking orders with cold efficiency. "Nobody moves! Hands where we can see 'em!"

Panic surged through the lab like wildfire. Security personnel stationed near the entrance barely had time to draw their tasers before the invaders descended, disarming them with brutal precision, non-lethal but ruthless. Screams and shouts erupted as scientists scrambled under desks or froze in terror. The leader's mechanical eye, a glowing red lens embedded in his scarred face, locked onto the battery prototype with predatory focus. His voice, distorted by a metallic rasp, cut through the chaos. "That little toy on the stand. Grab it. Now. And round up the techies. We've got plans."

Kara's heart pounded in her chest, her instincts screaming to act. Her eyes darted to her colleagues, their faces pale with fear, some trembling as mercenaries herded them into a tight cluster near the central console. She clenched her fists, her friends, her purpose here were all under threat. She couldn't stand by. She wouldn't.

Just as she took a step forward, her body tensing to leap into action, a hand gripped her arm with desperate strength. It was one of the scientists, the quiet woman who often buried herself in data, now with wide, terror-stricken eyes.

Her voice quivered, barely a whisper. "Kara, no! We can't fight them. Come on!"

Before Kara could protest, the woman tugged hard, and Kara let herself be dragged toward the lab's rear bathroom in a frantic stumble, torn between needing to help and wanting to support her panicked colleague.

Inside the cramped, sterile space, the door slammed shut behind them, the muffled chaos of the lab seeping through the walls. The scientist was shaking uncontrollably, her breaths shallow and ragged as she pressed herself against the tiled wall.

"We… we just have to wait. They'll take what they want and leave, right? Right?" Her voice cracked, pleading for reassurance.

Kara's frustration boiled beneath her skin, her jaw tight as she forced herself to soften her tone, placing a steadying hand on the woman's shoulder.

"It okay. You're safe here." Her words carried a quiet fierceness, though inwardly she wrestled with indecision.

Her cousin wouldn't hesitate, would he? If a crime unfolded right in front of him, he'd act, disguise or not. Surely, protecting others came before secrecy. The weight of that thought pressed down on her.

She made her choice. "Hide in stall," She urged, guiding the scientist toward one of the cubicles. "Lock door. Be very quiet. I do same."

The woman nodded frantically, tears streaking her face as she slipped into the stall and latched it shut with a trembling hand. The moment the lock clicked, Kara's facade of compliance dropped. Her expression hardened, resolve steeling her nerves. She darted out of the bathroom with silent, superhuman speed, her civilian clothes a blur as she shed them in a hidden corner, emerging as Supergirl, unwavering determination blazing in her eyes.

Supergirl emerged from the bathroom, her crimson cape billowing faintly behind her as she stepped into the lab. The mercenaries, clad in black tactical gear, were in the midst of zip-tying her trembling colleagues, their movements rough and hurried. Hostages knelt in a tight cluster near the central console, faces etched with dread, while the leader, the mechanised villain leading the heist, stood over the battery prototype.

His scarred visage split into a malevolent grin as he inspected the compact device, its faint energy pulse reflecting in the red glow of his mechanical eye. He barked orders with a metallic rasp, his voice cutting through the stifled whimpers of the hostages. "Move faster, you slugs! Superman's on the other side of the damn planet, but we've got maybe five minutes before someone else plays hero. Extract now!"

Before he could issue another command, his predatory gaze snapped up and locked onto Supergirl. The grin on his face faltered, morphing into a worried snarl, though he quickly masked it with bravado.

"Well, damn. I expected you'd show up, Supergirl. Though I didn't expect a Supe to respond so quickly to a break-in at LexCorp." His tone dripped with false confidence, but the tightening of his jaw and the slight step back betrayed his unease. Clearly, he hadn't anticipated her arrival so soon, if at all. He straightened, puffing out his chest as if to reclaim control, one hand gesturing to the battery while the other hovered near a hostage's shoulder. "Name's Gearhead. And I'm walkin' out with this little toy, whether you like it or-"

His threat died mid-sentence. Supergirl's patience snapped in a blur of red and blue. She surged forward, her fist connecting with Gearhead's jaw in a single, devastating punch. The impact echoed through the lab like a thunderclap, his mechanised enhancements whirring helplessly as he crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he even hit the floor. Sparks fizzed from his damaged optic, his body twitching once before going still.

A stunned silence gripped the room for a heartbeat. The mercenaries froze, their eyes wide with horrified disbelief as they watched their formidable leader collapse. Then, as if a switch flipped, they snapped into action, a chorus of shouts erupting as they raised their weapons in unison.

A hail of bullets tore through the air toward Supergirl, but she was untouchable. Her form blurred with superhuman speed, hands flashing as she plucked bullets from the air mere inches from their targets, the metal rounds clattering harmlessly to the ground. She darted between the mercenaries, a whirlwind of precision strikes, disarming one with a twist of his rifle, dropping another with a swift knee to the gut, and sending a third crashing to the ground with a controlled shove. Within seconds, the entire squad lay sprawled across the lab floor, groaning or motionless, their weapons scattered like discarded toys.

Supergirl hovered above the pile of unconscious criminals, her chest rising and falling with measured breaths, her piercing gaze sweeping the room. She descended slowly, boots touching the ground with a soft thud, and called out, her accented voice firm yet edged with concern. "Anyone hurt? Please, speak if you need help."

A few shaky voices murmured denials, while others simply shook their heads, still processing the surreal whirlwind of her intervention. Satisfied no one was injured, Supergirl moved with purpose, her hands a blur as she snapped the zip ties binding her colleagues, freeing them one by one. Trembling hands grasped at her in gratitude, and she offered quiet reassurances. Once the hostages were unbound, she turned to the defeated criminals, swiftly gathering their own zip ties and ropes, ensuring they posed no further threat.

With a final glance to her shaken colleagues, Supergirl hoisted the bound mercenaries and Gearhead over her shoulders as if they weighed nothing. "Stay safe, please. I take them away."

Before anyone could fully respond, a sharp gust of wind whipped through the lab, papers and loose objects fluttering in her wake as she launched upward and out through a shattered window, disappearing into the Metropolis sky with the criminals in tow.

From the bystanders' perspective, one moment, Supergirl was there, and then she was gone, the only evidence of her departure the rush of air that tousled hair and rattled equipment. Less than a minute later, the bathroom door creaked open, and Kara stumbled out, her civilian clothes slightly dishevelled, her expression a mask of feigned panic and relief. "Is… is it over? They gone?" She stammered, her voice trembling with enough genuine concern to sell the act as she rejoined the group, blending back into the crowd of shaken scientists.

Her colleagues rushed to her, voices overlapping with concern and fragmented recounts of Supergirl's heroics. Kara nodded along, her heart still pounding from the fight. But for now, her friends were safe, her work intact. She'd delivered the criminals to the authorities in a blur of flight, dropping them at MCPD headquarters and returning before suspicion could fall on her absence.

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Kara lingered near the edges of the lab, her gaze flickering between the controlled chaos unfolding around her and the prototype battery, now surrounded by a cordon of security personnel. The lab was a hive of activity, police officers taking statements, medical teams checking for injuries, and security barking orders to secure the perimeter. Her team's well-being weighed heavily on her mind as Kara was relieved to see familiar faces shaken but unharmed. Her attention drifted back to the battery, its faint energy pulse still visible even under the protective gathering of security around it.

A soft voice broke through her thoughts. The scientist from earlier, the woman who had dragged her into the bathroom, approached with tentative steps. Her eyes were still red-rimmed from tears, but there was a flicker of gratitude in them.

"Kara… thank you," She said, her voice unsteady but sincere. "I was a mess, panicking, and you… you were so calm. You stayed with me. I don't know what I would've done without you."

Before Kara could respond, the woman stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight, unexpected hug, her trembling frame clinging for a moment longer than necessary. Kara stiffened briefly, unsure how to comfort the woman, but then softened, returning the embrace with a gentle pat on the back.

"It is okay," Kara murmured. "We are safe now. That is what matters, yes?" The woman pulled back, offering a small, watery smile before stepping away to join a cluster of colleagues being ushered toward medical checks.

Dr. Happersen's voice cut through the murmur of the room, authoritative yet exhausted. He stood at the center of the lab, addressing the team.

"Alright, everyone, listen up. I know today's been a hell of a shock. We're done here, head home, take the rest of the day. LexCorp's got generous therapy offers in our healthcare plan if any of you need to talk this through with someone. Don't hesitate to use it. We'll regroup tomorrow or whenever you're ready." His gaze softened as he scanned the group, lingering on a few of the more visibly rattled faces. "Take care of yourselves."

Kara watched as security carefully collected the battery prototype, sealing it into a reinforced case with meticulous precision. A flicker of relief passed through her. At least it was safe for now. She turned back to the scientist beside her, intending to walk her out and ensure she got to a safe ride home. "Come, I'll go with you-" She started, but before she could finish, Dr. Happersen approached, his expression something like concern.

"Ms Danvers, hold up a second," He said, his tone clearly uncomfortable. "I don't know what this is about, but security's got instructions for you specifically. You're to go with them. Apparently, the CEO wants a word."

Kara blinked, confusion washing over her features. "CEO?" Her voice wavered slightly. She tilted her head, brow furrowing. "I… not understand. Why me?"

Happersen shrugged. "Haven't a clue. They didn't elaborate, but it's probably about the battery, or today's mess. Just… follow the escort. You'll be fine." He offered a tight, reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, then gestured toward the two security guards waiting at the lab's edge, one of whom held the case containing her prototype.

A ripple of unease stirred in Kara's gut, but she nodded slowly. Turning to the scientist and Happersen, she forced a small smile. "Okay. I see you later. Be safe, please."

The scientist gave her hand a quick, worried squeeze, and Happersen clapped her shoulder lightly before stepping back. Kara turned toward the waiting guards, her steps measured as she approached them. They nodded curtly, their faces impassive behind mirrored sunglasses, and gestured for her to follow. The same men who had secured the battery now flanked her, their presence imposing as they led her toward the elevators at the far end of the floor.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a sleek, mirrored interior that reflected Kara's tense expression back at her. She stepped inside, the two security guards following close behind, their boots echoing on the polished floor. One of them pressed the button for the top floor, the glowing numeral stark against the panel, and the doors sealed shut with a quiet hiss. The ascent began, the hum of the machinery a low drone in the confined space. Kara stood near the center, hands clasped in front of her to mask the faint tremble she couldn't quite suppress.

The guards remained silent, their postures rigid, though one tapped his earpiece and spoke into his radio. "Tell Luthor we have the package and are on the way up."

The words sliced through Kara's already fraying nerves. Luthor. Her mind reeled, thoughts tumbling over one another. Lex Luthor? Could it really be him? Kal had said he was supposed to be in prison. Her mind raced with a flurry of panic, worst-case scenarios forming in her head. Had she been naive to think LexCorp operated without his shadow looming over it? Or had something changed, some release or loophole she hadn't been aware of? Her heartbeat quickened, thudding against her ribs as the elevator climbed higher, each floor ticking by with agonising slowness.

Her gaze darted to the guards' reflections in the mirrored walls, searching for any hint of intent in their stoic faces. The word package echoed in her mind, were they referring to the battery, or to her?

Dread coiled tighter in her chest, a cold weight that made every breath feel heavier. What did Luthor want with her? Had he somehow pieced together more about her, about who she was beneath the clumsy intern facade? The possibility sent a shiver down her spine. She'd been so careful, or so she thought.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, instincts warring within her. Fight or flee. Every fiber of her being screamed to act, to shatter the elevator doors with a single punch and soar out into the sky, away from whatever waited at the top. Kal had talked the man up to being the 'bogeymen' of Kryptonian kind. And she had written off his warnings, thinking it was simply ancient history from her cousin's past.

The elevator's digital display ticked upward, floor 67, 68, 69, the numbers a countdown to an unknown confrontation. Her palms felt clammy, and she resisted the urge to wipe them on her rumpled lab coat, not wanting to betray her nerves to the guards watching her every move through their reflective lenses.

Floor 73.

The elevator began to slow. The guards shifted slightly, one adjusting his grip on the reinforced case holding the battery, the other murmuring something into his radio about their arrival. Her eyes flicked to the doors, X-ray vision revealing a powerful stature of a person, standing comfortably at their desk.

Floor 74.

The elevator came to a smooth halt with a soft chime, the doors sliding open to reveal a sprawling, sleek office bathed in the cool glow of natural light streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. The panoramic view of Metropolis stretched endlessly beyond. Polished marble floors gleamed underfoot, and a minimalist decor exuded an air of calculated elegance. The space was a testament to power, a far cry from the chaotic aftermath of the lab below.

Kara stepped out cautiously, her boots scuffing lightly against the pristine floor, the security guards trailing just behind. Her eyes flicked to the figure standing at the far end of the room, behind an imposing glass desk.

It wasn't Lex Luthor.

Relief flickered briefly in her chest, replaced almost instantly by a new wave of wariness. The person was a woman, tall and poised, her dark hair pulled back into a meticulous bun, dressed in a tailored navy blazer and pencil skirt that screamed authority. She exuded a commanding presence, her sharp green eyes locked on the reinforced case one of the guards carried as they approached.

The woman nodded curtly, accepting the case containing the battery prototype with a practised ease, setting it carefully on her desk. "Thank you, gentlemen. That will be all," She said, her voice smooth and firm. The guards inclined their heads, turning to leave without a word. The elevator doors hissed shut behind them, leaving Kara alone with the woman.

The woman was in the midst of a phone call as she paced slightly near the window, one hand gesturing with controlled frustration. "I want to know exactly how Gearhead and his mercenaries breached our security. This is unacceptable. I expect a full report on my desk by the end of the day, or heads will roll. Understood?" She didn't wait for a response, hanging up with a decisive tap on her sleek phone before slipping it away. She took a breath, visibly composing herself, her expression softening as she turned her full attention to Kara.

Stepping forward with a measured grace, she extended a manicured hand, her smile warm but professional. "Ms. Danvers, I'm so sorry about all this. Certainly not the most ideal circumstances for a meeting. I do hope you're feeling alright after today's ordeal?"

Kara hesitated for a split second, her hand lingering at her side before she reached out to shake. The woman's concern seemed genuine, her eyes searching Kara's face with a quiet empathy, treating her like an employee who'd just endured a traumatic event rather than a suspect under scrutiny.

"I… I okay. Thank you," Kara murmured, her accent thickening slightly under the strain of her nerves. She stood stiffly, unsure of how to navigate this encounter.

The woman smiled, a small, reassuring curve of her lips as she gestured to a plush leather chair across from her desk. "Please, take a seat. I'm Lena Luthor, by the way. And before you ask, yes, I'm Lex's sister." Her tone dipped briefly with a wry edge, anticipating a question she must hear many times over, before returning to its composed warmth. "I've been eager to meet you, Ms. Danvers, especially after hearing about your remarkable work."

Kara lowered herself into the chair, her posture rigid, hands clasped tightly in her lap as she tried to gauge Lena's intentions. The name Luthor still echoed in her mind like a warning bell, but Lena's demeanour, calm and charmingly composed, threw her off balance. "Thank you, Ms. Luthor. I… glad to meet you too," She said, forcing a small smile, though her eyes remained cautious, darting briefly to the case on the desk before returning to Lena.

Lena leaned back in her own chair, her gaze steady yet friendly. "I must say, I'm incredibly impressed with the prototype your team have developed. The energy density, the compact design. It's remarkable. And you. Your work, especially under pressure, hasn't gone unnoticed. You've got quite the reputation brewing in the R&D department." She tilted her head, a flicker of genuine admiration in her expression. "I'm not just saying that as CEO. I'm a scientist at heart, not a businesswoman, and I'm passionate about ensuring LexCorp stays at the cutting edge of innovation. That's why I've had my eye on you as an up-and-coming genius among our ranks."

Kara blinked, a flush of surprise warming her cheeks at the praise, though her wariness lingered. "I… thank you. I just want make something good. Help people." Her words were sincere, if a bit stilted, and she shifted uncomfortably under Lena's steady scrutiny.

Lena chuckled softly, the sound light but carrying a hint of self-deprecation. "Believe me, I know the feeling of wanting to do good. Half my job here is holding this company together and restoring its image after everything my?… What was it the press called him? My 'psycho brother' tried to destroy. I've even considered changing the name to distance us from his legacy. Marketing, however, nearly had a heart attack. Apparently, rebranding from 'LexCorp' to 'L-Corp' would tank our revenue by 24% over the next decade. So, I'm stuck trying to reform the name from within." She shook her head, a wry smirk tugging at her lips. "Not an easy task, but necessary."

Kara nodded slowly, her guard still up but intrigued by Lena's frankness. The woman's casual mention of Lex as a destructive force, coupled with her evident frustration at being tied to his name, planted a seed of doubt in Kara's initial suspicions. Maybe Lena wasn't cut from the same cloth as her brother. Still, Kara's fingers twitched in her lap, her mind racing with questions she didn't dare voice.

Lena leaned forward slightly, her tone shifting to something more personal, though still laced with professional curiosity. "I had planned to sit in on your battery presentation today, to learn more about your process, how you came up with such a groundbreaking idea. I wanted to understand the mind behind the tech." Lena reached for her sleek desktop monitor, twisting it around with a deliberate motion to face Kara. "But after today's… incident, I find myself with a different question. One that's a bit more pressing."

Kara's stomach tightened, a cold prickle of dread creeping up her spine as Lena's gaze sharpened, though her smile remained polite. The screen displayed security footage, grainy but clear enough. A loop of Kara being pulled into the bathroom by the panicked scientist, followed mere moments later by Supergirl emerging from the same door, cape billowing as she stormed into action.

The air in the room seemed to thicken, time slowing as Kara's heart slammed against her ribs. Her breath caught, eyes glued to the damning footage, her mind scrambling for an explanation, a denial, anything. But there it was, undeniable proof flickering in full colour. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, her hands clenching into fists in her lap.

Lena's voice broke the silence, polite but threaded with a curious, almost predatory edge, though not unkind. Her eyes gleamed with intrigue as she leaned back in her chair, that faint smile still playing on her lips. A chess player who'd just revealed her checkmate.

"So, Ms. Danvers… what's it like being Supergirl?"

A comic I commissioned by VADARTS
Dialogue edited by me to fit the fic.

The air in Lena Luthor's office felt like it had thickened into a tangible weight as Kara sat rigid in the plush leather chair. The sleek expanse of the room, towering windows framing Metropolis in a golden afternoon haze, seemed to close around her. The security footage on Lena's monitor looped silently, Kara Danvers disappearing into a bathroom, Supergirl bursting out. Her heart thudded so loudly she feared Lena could hear it across the glass desk.

"I- I don't… I mean, it not what looks like," Kara stammered, her voice cracking under the strain. Her hands fidgeted together as she grasped for a lifeline, any excuse to deflect the piercing gaze of the woman opposite her. "It's just… timing, you know? I was there, and- and Supergirl must've… I mean, coincidences, yes?" Her words stumbled over each other, half-formed lies crumbling before they could even take shape. She felt the heat rising to her cheeks, her Kryptonian strength useless against the vulnerability of this moment.

Lena leaned forward, her elbows resting lightly on the desk as a faint smile played on her lips. A mix of amusement and unyielding resolve. Sharp eyes pinned Kara in place, refusing to let the younger woman squirm free of the truth.

"Ms. Danvers," She began, her voice smooth as silk, "Or should I say, Ms. Zor-El? That is what you told the reporters, right?" Lena's smile was as smug as it was kind. "I think we're past the point of pretending. Don't you agree?"

She paused, letting the silence hang for a beat. Kara remained frozen in her seat, unable to find the words that would convince this woman that everything she'd seen had all been a misunderstanding. Lena's smug expression softened, perhaps feeling bad for the Kryptonian girl who just had a verbal bombshell dropped on her lap.

Lena's tone dipped into something warmer, more understanding. "I know why you might be wary of me. My family name isn't exactly synonymous with trust," Lena looked away in shame, almost apologetic at the smile she had on before. She spun her computer monitor back around, the video no longer needed as she turned back to Kara and looked into the woman's eyes. "But I'm not my brother. The men in our family might tear each other apart, but I'm different. And I'm hoping, you're different too? I was hoping we could be friends."

Kara's breath caught at the unexpected olive branch. Her mind raced, replaying every warning she'd heard about the Luthor name, every story of betrayal and malice tied to Lex. But Lena's gaze held no malice, only a quiet sincerity that tugged at Kara's innate hopefulness. Caught with no real options, she hesitated. Lips parting as if to protest further. Then, slowly, she nodded, the motion small but deliberate.

"Okay…" Kara's shoulders eased just a fraction, though her blue eyes still watched on, searching Lena's face for any sign of deception. "I'd like to be friend, too."

Lena's face brightened, a genuine warmth spreading across her features as she straightened in her chair, her hands clasping together with a quiet enthusiasm.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that, Kara." Her voice carried a newfound energy, lighting up the sterile office. "I believe we can do incredible things together. Imagine the possibilities if we work closely, with open and honest cooperation. Science, innovation, progress. The kind of advancements that could change lives."

Kara tilted her head slightly, her initial wariness mingling with a burgeoning curiosity as Lena's words sank in. The idea of working with someone who claimed to be a scientist first, not just a businesswoman, struck a chord. Lena's gaze shifted to the reinforced case on her desk, the one containing Kara's prototype.

"Take your battery, for instance," Lena's voice was filled with genuine admiration as she tapped the case lightly with a manicured finger. "The energy density, the scalability. It's brilliant. I've run the numbers myself. A single unit could power an entire hospital for days without recharge. Imagine it in disaster zones, remote regions, even space exploration. It's not just a gadget. It's a lifeline."

Her tone carried the precision of someone who understood the science behind it, not just the profit potential. Kara blinked, a hesitant warmth creeping into her chest at the praise, though a sliver of scepticism lingered.

Was Lena truly seeing her as a scientist, or was this flattery a ploy to exploit Supergirl's raw power?

Her fingers tightened slightly in her lap, the fear of being reduced to a tool gnawing at her. But as Lena continued, her focus remained squarely on Kara's intellect.

"Your approach to the lithium-ion matrix, the way you've stabilised the output. It's innovative, elegant even." Her words dissecting the battery's design with a depth that spoke of hours spent studying it, not just skimming reports. "If this is what you can come up with when you're pretending to be human, I can only imagine your potential if we let you work without constraints."

"I… I appreciate your words. I do..." A knot of doubt in Kara's stomach loosened, though not entirely. "But my identity. Supergirl. I not have everyone knowing. I want keep life… separate."

Her blue eyes darted to Lena, searching for reassurance in the quiet plea. Lena nodded immediately, her expression softening as she leaned back in her chair.

"Of course. I wouldn't dream of exposing you. There are only four people in this entire building who know the truth, and we're two of them."

"Who are other two?" Kara asked, worry prickling the back of her neck.

Lena threw out a casual wave. "My head of security and some intern scrubbing cameras. It doesn't matter. To the rest of LexCorp, you'll remain just Kara Danvers, the brilliant R&D intern. No one else needs to know."

Kara nodded, still not feeling great that there were even two more people out there who knew her secret, but knowing there was nothing she could do about it.

"I want to bring you into more… advanced projects." Lena continued, practically leaning over her desk in excitement. Her voice dropped conspiratorially, as if inviting Kara into a secret world of possibility. "Initiatives that match the scope of your talents, projects that could push boundaries most can't even imagine. Under my direct supervision, of course."

Kara's breath steadied, the promise of meaningful work stirring excitement beneath her lingering caution. The idea of diving into cutting-edge science, of making a real difference, tugged at her innate desire to help. Yet the shadow of the Luthor name hovered in her mind. Before she could voice it, Lena's lips curled into a playful smirk. Her eyes shimmered with something deeper than admiration or curiosity.

Hope.

A raw, unwavering belief in her. Not in Supergirl, but in Kara. The scientist. The person. It struck her with quiet force.

That was it. That was the look Kal-El must see in the faces of the people he protects. The faith that one extraordinary being might just tip the scales toward something better.

Lena saw her like that. As more than a symbol. As a partner. As a force for good.

The realisation settled over Kara, humbling and terrifying all at once. Then, with a lopsided smile and a lightness in her tone that didn't quite match the gravity behind her words, Lena made a joke.

"Together, we'll save the world."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The soft glow of evening light filtered through the wide windows of Kal-El's Metropolis apartment. Casting long shadows across the cosy living room. The space was a comforting contrast to the sterile expanse of Lena's office that made Kara feel a little more at home on this alien planet. She sat cross-legged on the couch, a mug of hot cocoa cradled in her hands as she tried to untangle the whirlwind of her day. Clark sat across from her in an armchair, his broad frame relaxed but his expression guarded, while Lois perched on the armrest beside him, her sharp eyes already narrowing with suspicion.

Nearby, Jon zoomed a toy spaceship around the coffee table, making exaggerated "whoosh" sounds, oblivious to the seriousness of the conversation.

"So, let me get this straight," Lois began, just as Kara finished recounting the events of the day. "Lena Luthor. Lex's sister, figured out you're Supergirl. She has security footage, and she confronted you about it. But… you're saying she didn't threaten your life?"

Kara shook her head vehemently. "No, no, no. Lena was no hostile. She offered to keep secret, wants work with me on advanced projects. She is… earnest, I believe." Lois shot up a disbelieving eyebrow towards Kal.

Kal-El tried to keep his face steady and hold judgment until Kara had well and finished her side of the story.

"Is true," Kara urged, pleading with Lois's eyebrows. "Passionate about science, about what we could build together." Kara paused as she sipped her cocoa, seeking the right words. "I not know what to make of it. I mean, she's a Luthor, but… she seemed different, yes? I wanted to know what you think."

Kal leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his blue eyes, so much like her own, studying her. His jaw tightened briefly at the mention of the Luthor name, but he exhaled slowly, tempering his initial reaction.

"I'm glad you're okay, Kara. That could've gone a lot worse," He finally said, his tone measured. "I've only met Lena the once, briefly, and she didn't strike me as Lex. Although I got the feeling she didn't think so highly of me. Still, my history with her brother makes it complicated. All I can suggest is to be cautious. Trust your instincts, but don't let your guard down completely."

Before Kara could respond, Jon bounded over, flying with his toy spaceship beside her with a wide, toothy grin.

"Aunt Kara! When are we next going flying again? It's been forever." His bright eyes sparkled with excitement, completely ignoring the tone of the room as he hovered in the air.

"Jon…" Lois sighed, pouting like the disapproving mother she was. "We're having an adult conversation at the moment," Jon rolled his eyes, still waiting for Kara to answer his question. Lois sighed again. "And could you please not float inside the house. I'd like to go six months without replacing the furniture… again."

Kara couldn't help but smile, the tension in her shoulders easing as she ruffled Jon's messy hair. "Not right now, but soon. Promise."

He pouted dramatically but nodded, landing on his feet to resume his spaceship adventures with a loud "pew pew" sound effect. Lois, meanwhile, hadn't softened at all. She crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"Different?" She let out a sharp scoff. "Please. The whole Luthor family is rotten to the core. Kara, trust me. Lena's just playing from Lex's old handbook. Hiding behind a charming smile and polished suits. It's the exact same play Lex did for you." She turned to Kal, who looked away with a sheepish grin. Lois rolled her eyes and pointed back to Kara. "She's a manipulative schemer, same as her brother, same as her father. Just with better PR. You can't trust a thing she says. Mark my words, she's after something, whether it's your powers or your tech, and she'll use you until she gets it."

Kara's fingers tightened around her mug, Lois's harsh verdict clashing with the spark of hope she'd felt in Lena's office. She glanced between Clark's cautious optimism and Lois's unyielding scepticism, her own feelings caught in the middle. Her gaze dropped to the steaming mug in her hands.

"I hear you, Lois, and I understand risks," Kara's voice softened as she looked back up at the couple. "I not blind to her name or what it mean. But… I want to trust her. I need, to trust her…" Kara watched the liquid in her cup swirl before taking another sip. "Other day, I found out my world was lie. Every day, was lie. So what do? Do I stop trust? Never trust again? Question everyone and everything? …Bats in Gotham would say yes." Kara chuckled softly at the thought.

She shook her head, finishing her mug with one last gulp before looking Lois back in the eyes.

"I don't want that. I want to live in world where I believe in someone. Where not every connection has to be doubt. I feel spark with Lena today, and maybe I wrong. But I want to trust." She nodded firmly, a small, hopeful smile tugging at her lips.

"Unbelievable," Lois exhaled sharply, her expression a mix of frustration and reluctant fondness. "You've got the same boundless optimism as this one over here." She jerked her thumb toward Kal, who raised his hands in mock surrender, a faint grin breaking through his earlier reserve. Lois's stern facade cracked just enough to reveal a smirk as she continued, "It's infuriating, but… I guess it's why I married him," She let out a more exaggerated sigh. "Can't really fault you for being related."

Kal-El chuckled softly, his gaze warming as he looked at Kara. "I'm glad to see you taking the path of trust, Kara. My opinion on Luthor, notwithstanding, I hope this works out for you. I really do. And if it doesn't," He gave Kara a wide grin. "I have faith we'll get through it. We're here, always."

Kara's smile matched Kal's in size and style. "I am cautious, but much excited." She giggled with childish glee. "The science she wants explore, I want to see what we create together. My curiosity, my drive, very much about Earth's potential! Stronger than any doubts right now."

The tension in the room eased, replaced by a quiet understanding among family. Before anyone could say more, the patter of small feet approached, accompanied by the exaggerated "whoosh" of a toy spaceship. Jon popped back into the conversation, clearly having used his super hearing to eavesdrop on the tail end of the discussion.

"Is the adult conversation over now?" He asked, tilting his head with wide, pleading eyes. "Can I play with Aunt Kara? Pleeease?"

Kara giggled again, washing away the last of her earlier unease. She set her mug down on the coffee table and leaned forward to accept Jon's toy. "We're done," Kara decided, inspecting the tiny model rocketship.

Jon cheered, zooming off to change into his makeshift Superboy outfit, Kara following close behind, her laughter mingling with his excited chatter. Kal and Lois exchanged a glance, watching the childish pair take off into the Metropolis skyline.

---------------------------------------------------

The elevator descended with a muted hum, sinking deeper into the bowels of LexCorp's towering structure. Kara adjusted her glasses, a nervous habit in her human disguise, as the digital display ticked down to a restricted level she'd never accessed before. Couldn't even see it behind all the lead lining. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and curiosity, the promise of Lena's 'advanced projects' echoing in her mind. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a dimly lit corridor sealed by a heavy, reinforced door.

Lena stood waiting just beyond the threshold, her tailored blazer and sharp heels a stark contrast to the clinical austerity of the surroundings. Her smile was warm but measured, a calculated charm that both welcomed and assessed.

"Kara, right on time!" She said, her voice smooth as she gestured for Kara to follow. "I'm thrilled to show you what I've been keeping under wraps. I think you'll find this inspiring."

Lena punched a code into a keypad, her fingers moving with practised precision, and the reinforced door groaned as it unlocked, revealing a cavernous lower-level lab.

The space was a stark departure from the sleek, polished R&D floors above. Harsh fluorescent lights flickered intermittently, casting long shadows over rows of locked cabinets, each labelled with cryptic codes. Workstations cluttered with unfamiliar devices lined the walls, some humming faintly with latent energy, others encased in protective glass as if their contents were too volatile to touch. Kara's eyes widened, her scientific curiosity flaring as she took in the alien contours of some of the tech. Shapes and materials that didn't belong to Earth.

"Welcome to the vault," Lena said, her tone carrying a hint of pride as she led Kara deeper into the lab. She stopped at a large, reinforced display case, gesturing to the array of strange artefacts within. "Over the years, LexCorp has amassed a rather unique collection. Mostly alien technology, to be precise. Some of it was weaponised by my brother in his… misguided crusades against your cousin." Her lips tightened briefly at the mention of Lex, a flicker of disdain crossing her features before she continued. "But much of it remains unstudied, its potential unknown. That's where we come in."

Kara stepped closer, her gaze drawn to a jagged, stone device emitting a faint purple glow. Its design was alien, even to her, yet it stirred a distant memory of Krypton's advanced systems.

"What you want me do?" She asked, fingers itching to touch the tech but restrained by an instinctual wariness.

Lena turned to face her, arms crossing lightly as her expression shifted to one of purposeful determination. "I want you to help catalogue and understand what we have. Analyse their functions, their origins, if possible. Dispose of anything too dangerous to be handled. There are containment protocols for that. But for the rest, the pieces that hold promise, I want to adapt them. Repurpose their potential. Energy solutions, medical advancements, infrastructure. Whatever we can imagine to help this world," Her eyes gleamed with ambition that tugged at Kara's innate desire to do good.

Kara nodded slowly, her mind racing with the possibilities. Earth was a petri dish of alien inhabitants. She'd learned that her cousin was far from the first to make its way to this planet, it made sense that alien technology of all kinds wound up here too.

The idea of turning unknown tools of potential destruction into instruments of aid resonated deeply with her. But as Lena spoke, a thought nudged at her. She hesitated, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her sleeve before she spoke, her voice softer, almost tentative.

"That… that sounds incredible, Lena. I want help. And I been thinking about doing similar. Had plan to adapt Kryptonian technology for Earth. Bridge our worlds in way that benefits everyone."

Her blue eyes flickered with quiet passion, the weight of her lost home heavy in her words. Lena's reaction was immediate. Her posture straightened, her gaze sharpening with an almost predatory interest as she stepped closer, her voice dropping to an eager murmur.

"Kryptonian technology? So more than the battery? That's fascinating, Kara. Do you have access to any? Artifacts from your home, perhaps? Blueprints, data drives, anything we could work from?" Her eyes narrowed slightly, a hungry curiosity glinting beneath her composed exterior as she waited for Kara's answer, her fingers tapping lightly against her arm in barely contained anticipation.

Kara's stomach tightened at the intensity of Lena's interest. Her mind flashed to the Fortress of Solitude, to the sacred remnants of Krypton preserved there under Kal-El's protection. She thought of the small database that Kal-El had recovered, fragmented and lost in the destruction of Braniac, and the few pieces she knew by memory alone. A protective instinct surged within her. She shook her head, her expression firm but polite.

"No, I no have anything to offer. Most of Braini- uh, database was destroyed," She reconsidered mentioning the psychotic machine. "What I know is mostly theory in head. Sorry."

Lena's face fell, her shoulders deflating for a brief moment as a sigh escaped her lips. The disappointment was palpable, her gaze drifting to the floor as she processed Kara's response.

"I see," She said quietly, her tone tinged with a restrained frustration before she regrouped, forcing a small smile. "I understand. Too much to hope that 'Super Memory' was one of your powers. I didn't expect you to single-handedly advance us to the next age of humanity anyway…" She trailed off, her fingers brushing against the edge of a workstation as she recomposed herself, the spark of ambition reigniting in her eyes. "No matter. We'll work with what we have here. There's plenty to explore in this collection, and I'm confident your insight will unlock wonders we can't yet imagine."

Kara offered an awkward smile, relieved that Lena hadn't pressed further but still sensing the lingering hunger behind her words. A part of Kara still preferred the idea of adapting her own tech, however she could. The battery was only phase one in a plan to help end the slaughter of life, and world hunger. Lena shifted her stance, leaning casually against the edge of a workstation.

"Let's think about this differently, Kara," She began, pondering Kara's options aloud. "You have two paths ahead of you. You could return upstairs to the R&D labs, poring over vague memories of Kryptonian tech, trying to recreate something from scratch with no guarantee of success. It'd be slow, uncertain, like piecing together a puzzle with half the pieces missing." Lena paused, letting the image sink in. "Or, you can stay here, in this vault, with me. We'd delve into truly alien mysteries together. Tech from worlds neither of us fully understands. We'd be discovering, innovating, unearthing new possibilities that could transform Earth in ways we can't yet dream of."

Kara's mind wrestled with the choices Lena presented. The upstairs labs, with their familiar tools and incremental progress, felt like a safe retreat. A place to cling to the ghosts of Krypton through painstaking trial and error. But the thought of piecing together fragmented memories, struggling to recreate what was lost, felt like trudging through a past she could never fully reclaim.

Here, in the shadowy depths of LexCorp's vault, surrounded by the unknown, a different fire kindled within her. The alien artefacts, with their strange hums and cryptic designs, whispered of discovery. Challenges that could test her intellect and push her beyond the boundaries of her heritage. Her curiosity, a relentless force that had driven her since she first landed on Earth, surged to the forefront, drowning out the faint murmur of caution in her mind.

Fingers twitched at Kara's side, itching to touch the glowing purple device in the display case, to unravel its secrets. She met Lena's gaze, her eyes alight with a mix of determination and barely contained excitement.

"I… I wish to stay," She said, her voice steady despite the rapid beat of her heart. "I want discover what is possible, to make something new. Together."

Lena's smile widened, a flash of triumph crossing her features before it softened into something warmer, almost approving. "I knew you'd see the potential," She said, stepping closer to clasp Kara's shoulder briefly. "Welcome to the frontier, Kara. We're going to do extraordinary things."

---------------------------------------------

In the sterile, brightly lit confines of a maximum-security prison cell, Lex Luthor sat at his desk, a stack of carefully vetted reports in front of him. His sharp eyes scanned the latest document, a detailed account of Kara Danvers' progress at LexCorp, as per his orders. A faint smirk curled his lips as he noted the timeline. Lena had made contact with Supergirl a full three weeks ahead of his most optimistic projections.

"Always the overachiever, sister," He muttered to himself. The prototype battery Kara had developed was a neat trick, a flashy bauble that could dazzle the boardroom. Interesting certainly, but ultimately a trifle. He was hoping for something truly alien. What disappointed him more was Lena's decision to pull Kara into her personal pet projects.

His gaze lingered on a section of the report, heavily redacted with black bars obscuring Kara's new assignment. Lex's brow furrowed for a moment, but then a knowing glint sparked in his eyes as he pieced together the puzzle. The location. Metropolis obviously. Kara wanted to work in the city, which reduced the number of possible projects dramatically. Out of those, Lena only had a handful that she truly cared about, and Supergirl's naive, do-gooder curiosity painted a clear picture.

"Giving Supergirl the key to all my toys?" He whispered, leaning back in his chair with a low, incredulous chuckle. "Dear sister, what have you done?"

His mind raced, imagining Kara's hands on the trove of extraterrestrial relics he'd spent years amassing. Dangerous, unpredictable artefacts that could either elevate humanity or annihilate it, depending on what they played with. Lena's gambit was bold, reckless even. The entire vault was Pandora's box, even Lex's ego knew not to go poking around at everything in there. And she'd just given it to a bleeding-heart alien.

Yet, as Lex tapped his fingers rhythmically against the desk, a deeper calculation unfolded behind his cold, analytical stare. An unspoken thought flickered through his mind, something too intricate to commit to words even in the privacy of his cell. His smirk returned, sharper this time, as he decided to let this unfold for now.

"Very well, Lena. I'll allow you this little experiment," He mused, his tone dripping with predatory patience. "It should give us more than a battery, at least." He added with a bored huff.

With a casual, almost bored gesture, he signed off a handful of trivial other matters, the chessboard of LexCorp's future stretching out before him even from behind bars. Placing all the relevant documents back into the folder he'd been given, he slid the folder back through his cell door, the only opening he had to the rest of the world.

Lex clicked his fingers just at the guard who was there to retrieve his files.

"And do tell them to send me the non-redacted files next time," His voice snapped with authority, even while sounding bored in his cell. "I do love puzzles, but I'd rather have all the information in hand, hmm?"

Lex leaned back in his chair, the harsh fluorescent lights glinting off the polished surface of his desk as a quiet satisfaction settled over him. Lena's gambit with Supergirl, though not his preferred approach, he couldn't help but admire the subtle orchestration, the way she'd positioned herself as the alien's ally. It all bore the unmistakable mark of a Luthor's cunning. He always respected his sister for thinking laterally. There was a reason he left her the company, after all.