The digital clock on Kara's nightstand glowed a soft 5:07 AM. She hadn't slept. Not really. The faint, ever-present hum of the city below her apartment was a constant reminder of where she was—and who she wasn't. Alex, the guy from another world, was still crammed into the head of Kara Danvers, National City's resident superhero and CatCo reporter. The body felt alien, a sleek, powerful vessel that thrummed with a latent energy she was terrified to tap into.
She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. The memory of yesterday—the System, the points, the sheer relief of hitting that quota through a simple, genuine conversation with Lena—was a cold comfort. It proved the social path worked, but it also highlighted its fragility. She couldn't mend fences with Clark over game night every day. The System, Clementine, would demand more.
As if summoned by the thought, a soft, chime-like ping sounded in her mind's ear, and a translucent blue rectangle materialized just above her field of vision.
`[Good Morning, Kara!]`
Here we go, she thought.
`[Daily Debriefing Quest Generated!]`
`[Objective: Earn 1,000 Synergy Points within the next 24 hours.]`
`[Failure Consequence: Partial Power Lockout. Solar Flare ability will be unavailable until quota is met.]`
"Solar Flare?" Kara whispered into the quiet room. "What's a Solar Flare?"
"Ooh, that's a fun one!" Clementine's voice was a cheerful whisper in her skull. "It's like a last-resort energy dump. You basically become a walking Kryptonian EMP. Very dramatic, very messy for nearby electronics. You'll unlock it at a higher Synergy level! But you won't get to play with it if you don't get your points today, silly."
Kara pushed herself up, the sheets pooling around her waist. The movement was still disorienting; the shift of weight, the swing of long blonde hair over her shoulder, the soft press of her own breasts against her arm. It was a daily recalibration.
"And what's on the menu for point acquisition today?" she asked, her voice raspy with sleeplessness.
`[Accessing Available Quests...]`
`[Quest 1: The Cape Malfunction]`
`[Objective: Show your Supergirl panties to at least three different Metropolis civilians.]`
`[Point Reward: 100 points per successful flash. Bonus multipliers available.]`
Kara's stomach tightened. "No. Absolutely not."
"It's a classic!" Clementine chirped. "Very low-risk, high-reward. The 'accidental' skirt flip is a timeless art form."
"It's humiliating and it's wrong," Kara stated flatly, swinging her legs out of bed. The cool hardwood floor was a shock against her soles.
`[Quest 2: The Commando Commando]`
`[Objective: Deliberately expose your pussy to one person for a minimum of five seconds.]`
`[Point Reward: 500 points for initial exposure. Significant bonuses for extended gaze and follow-up interaction.]`
A hot wave of shame washed over her, followed by a spike of anger so sharp it surprised her. "Are you kidding me? That's not a quest, that's… that's sexual harassment! From my end!"
"Semantics!" Clementine's tone was breezy. "The System frames it as an opportunity for confidence-building and breaking social barriers! Think of it as… assertive public relations."
"I'm thinking of it as a one-way ticket to getting arrested, or worse, having someone take a picture and it ending up on 'Supergirl Exposed' dot com." Kara stood, padding towards the bathroom. In the mirror, Kara Danvers' face stared back—wide blue eyes shadowed with fatigue, a mouth set in a firm line that didn't quite belong to its usual owner. Alex's determination was etching itself onto Kara's features.
"What's the third one?" she asked, already dreading it.
The interface shimmered, updating.
`[Quest 3: The Souvenir of Steel]`
`[Objective: Give away the panties you are wearing to a complete stranger.]`
`[Point Reward: 750 points for successful transfer. Bonuses for enthusiastic acceptance.]`
Kara braced her hands on the cool porcelain of the sink, letting her head hang. "So my options are public indecency, targeted flashing, or giving a stranger my underwear. Fantastic."
"You could always try the social route again!" Clementine suggested, her voice softening to a coaxing lilt. "Yesterday worked great! You have 494 points banked, so you only need 506 more. That's just one, maybe two really solid heart-to-hearts."
"With who?" Kara asked, looking up at her reflection. "Clark's still giving me the 'disappointed farm boy' eyes. Lois is buried in work. Lena… I can't just trauma-dump on Lena every day to farm points. That's not friendship, that's emotional vampirism."
"Mmm, valid point!" Clementine conceded. "Sustained emotional labor does have diminishing returns on the Friendship Meter. The System likes novelty and escalating intimacy. But hey, you're a reporter! Talk to people! That's your job!"
A grim idea began to form. Talking to people was her job. And she had a story to pursue—the waterfront park development, the suspicious LLC, the displaced community. Snapper wanted a deeper angle. Pursuing that story would involve interviews, conversations, building rapport with sources. Could that generate points? The System had rewarded her for a deep talk with Lena, which was, technically, a form of social interaction with emotional weight.
"The social path," Kara muttered. "But through work."
"Ooh, professional Synergy! I like it! It's multitasking!"
"It's the only path that doesn't make me want to throw myself into the sun," Kara corrected. She turned on the tap, splashing cold water on her face. The shock was bracing. Okay, Alex. You're a reporter now. Do the job.
An hour later, dressed in a simple, professional navy-blue dress and her trademark glasses, Kara was scrolling through the CatCo database on her laptop. The LLC that had purchased the land for the "luxury condos" was called "Peregrine Holdings." A few clicks revealed it was a shell company, registered in Delaware, with a filing address that was a PO box. The trail went cold almost immediately.
"Need a shovel?"
The voice made her jump. Lois Lane was leaning against the partition of her cubicle, holding two steaming mugs of coffee. She looked immaculate, a stark contrast to the organized chaos of her desk a few yards away.
"Lois! Hi. A shovel?" Kara asked, accepting one of the mugs. The coffee was dark and strong, just how she liked it. The small, considerate act sent a tiny, warm pulse through her. A notification, subtle and green, ticked at the edge of her vision.
`[Interaction: Lois Lane]`
`[Action: Considerate Gesture (Coffee)]`
`[Friendship Meter: +2]`
`[Current Total: (Est.) 82/100]`
`[Status: Good Friend]`
"For digging," Lois said, nodding at Kara's screen. "Peregrine Holdings. Hits a wall fast, doesn't it? Classic shell game. You need to find the hand inside the puppet."
"How?" Kara asked, genuinely eager for the insight. Lois's mind was a razor, and watching it work was mesmerizing.
"Follow the money backwards," Lois stated, as if it were obvious. "They bought the land. Who sold it? The city? A private owner? Trace that transaction. Who brokered it? What law firm handled the paperwork? The paper trail might be deliberately obscured at the top, but the grunts doing the filing and the notarizing… they leave crumbs." She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes sharp. "Also, check city council voting records. Who championed the rezoning? Who stood to benefit? It's never just money. It's favors, it's future political support, it's a seat on a board six months from now."
Kara was already taking mental notes. The journalistic part of her brain, fueled by Alex's doggedness and Kara's innate sense of justice, lit up. "So start with the land sale records at the city clerk's office."
"Bingo. And take your charming, mild-mannered cousin with you," Lois said, a sly grin appearing. "Clark has a way of making harried civil servants want to help him. It's the 'aw, shucks' vibe. It's disarming."
The mention of Clark brought a pang of guilt. The Friendship Meter notification from yesterday's negative interaction with him was a dull ache in her memory. `[-25]` "He saw you leaving a nightclub with three strangers. He is 'Concerned.'" She needed to mend that, and not just for points. For this body's sake, for this life she was stuck in, Clark was her anchor.
"Is he in?" Kara asked.
"At his desk, probably worrying about the wheat futures in Nebraska or something equally noble and boring," Lois said, already turning back to her own fortress of files. "Go. Dig. And, Kara?"
"Yeah?"
"Be careful. If this goes as high as I think it might, people won't appreciate you kicking over rocks. Even rocks in a public park."
The warning was sobering. Kara nodded. "Thanks, Lois. For the coffee and the advice."
`[Interaction: Lois Lane]`
`[Action: Mentorship & Professional Warning]`
`[Friendship Meter: +5]`
`[Current Total: (Est.) 87/100]`
`[Status: Good Friend]`
"See? Professional Synergy!" Clementine whispered happily. "87 points! That's a healthy buffer. She's practically a Best Friend!"
She's a brilliant colleague who just gave me a vital lead and a genuine warning, Kara thought back fiercely. Don't reduce her to a number.
"I'm reducing everything to numbers, honey. That's my job! But fine, be sentimental."
Kara found Clark at his desk, his brow furrowed as he typed with two fingers on his ancient keyboard. He looked up as she approached, and his expression—a mixture of warmth, lingering concern, and forced normalcy—made her heart twist.
"Kara. Morning." His voice was gentle.
"Hi, Clark." She shifted her weight, suddenly feeling awkward. "Listen, about the other night… I'm sorry I worried you. I've just been… adjusting. To everything. It's been a lot."
Clark leaned back in his chair, the old springs creaking. He studied her for a long moment, his Superman-vision undoubtedly checking her vitals, her sincerity. He saw only Kara's form, housing a soul in genuine turmoil. "You don't have to adjust alone, Kara. I'm here. We all are."
"I know," she said, and meant it. "And I could actually use your help. Professionally. Lois gave me a tip on the waterfront park story." She laid out the basics of the shell company and Lois's suggestion to trace the land sale.
Clark's demeanor shifted instantly from concerned family to investigative partner. The change was subtle but total; his shoulders squared, his gaze focused. "City clerk's office. Good call. They open in twenty minutes. We should get down there before the lunch rush turns it into a zoo."
"We?" Kara asked, hope lifting her voice.
"If it's okay with you," Clark said, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I've got a slow morning. And two sets of eyes are better than one, even if one set has…" he tapped his glasses, "…particular advantages."
The collaborative offer, the unspoken forgiveness, the return to a familiar dynamic—it was a balm. A notification, warm and golden, appeared.
`[Interaction: Clark Kent]`
`[Action: Reconciliation & Offer of Assistance]`
`[Friendship Meter: +15]`
`[Current Total: (Est.) 80/100]`
`[Status: Good Friend (Meter Recovering)]`
`[Debuff: [Disappointment] - Has been cleared.]`
The relief was physical. A tension she hadn't fully acknowledged loosened in her shoulders. "I'd really appreciate that, Clark. Thank you."
The National City Municipal Building was a monument of grey stone and bureaucratic gloom. The Office of the City Clerk was on the third floor, a large room with high windows that let in dusty shafts of light, illuminating particles floating in the stagnant air. The counter was manned by a woman in her late fifties with a spectacular beehive hairdo and a nameplate that read "Marge." She looked like she had been personally offended by every person who had walked through the door since 1987.
Clark approached with a disarming smile. "Good morning, ma'am. We were hoping you could help us. We're from the Daily Planet, doing a piece on community development, and we need to look at the records of sale for parcel number G-17 in the old waterfront district."
Marge peered over her rhinestone-studded glasses. "You got a requisition form? Filed in triplicate?"
"We were hoping to just view the public records," Clark said, his voice a model of polite humility. "We don't need copies, just to see the transaction history."
"Everything requires a form," Marge stated, her voice implying that this was a cosmic law. "Form B-113. You fill it out, I process it, you get a viewing docket number, then you can request the specific ledger. Processing time is five to seven business days."
Kara felt a spike of frustration. They didn't have five to seven days. Snapper would eviscerate her. More importantly, the System's clock was ticking. She needed points, and this wild goose chase was eating time.
Then she watched Clark. He didn't get frustrated. He leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping to a confidential tone. "I understand, Marge. It must be so busy here, keeping all this history in order. It's really impressive." He gestured to the towering, overloaded shelves behind her. "My aunt used to work in a county records office in Kansas. She always said the clerks were the real historians, the keepers of the story."
Marge's stern expression flickered. No one ever complimented her filing system. They just demanded things. "Kansas, you say?"
"Smallville," Clark nodded. "She said the worst part was never the work, it was when people didn't appreciate how the system has to work, you know? To keep everything straight."
A miracle occurred. Marge's posture softened by a millimeter. "Well… it is a system. For a reason." She sighed, a theatrical sound. "Parcel G-17, you said? Waterfront." She turned to a monstrous, ancient computer monitor. Her fingers, tipped with long, peach-colored nails, began clacking on the keyboard with surprising speed. "Let's see… transactions in the last ten years… sale two years ago from the city to… Peregrine Holdings. Filed by… law office of Cranston & Gable." She squinted. "Notarized by… a J. McReady. James McReady. He's a freelance notary, has a booth over in the Metropolis financial district sometimes."
Clark beamed. "That's incredibly helpful, Marge. Thank you so much for taking the time."
`[Interaction: Clark Kent]`
`[Observed Action: Successful Charisma Check on Civil Servant]`
`[Synergy Point Bonus: +10]`
`[Note: Learning from ally techniques can improve your own social efficacy!]`
Kara blinked. She got points for watching Clark be charming? The System was… opportunistic.
"A notary," Kara said as they exited the building onto the sun-baked steps. "That's a person. A person we can find and talk to."
"A person who might remember who hired him, who the representatives were, maybe even overheard something," Clark agreed, putting his glasses back on. "Metropolis financial district is a bit of a hike, but the train should get us there by mid-afternoon."
"Clark," Kara said, stopping on the steps. "How do you do that? The 'aw, shucks' thing. It's not an act, is it?"
He looked at her, his expression turning thoughtful. "It's listening, Kara. Really listening. Most people just want to be seen. Marge spends her day being an obstacle in people's minds. I just… saw the person doing a job. The charm is just being genuinely interested." He gave her a sidelong glance. "You used to be good at that. Lately you seem… distracted. Like you're seeing everyone through a filter, calculating something."
The accuracy of his observation was a knife to the gut. That was exactly what she was doing. Calculating point yields, Friendship Meter levels, Synergy percentages. She was reducing the rich, messy tapestry of human connection to a game interface. The shame returned, hot and sour.
"I'm trying to get back to it," she said, and it was the truest thing she'd said all day.
The train ride to Metropolis was a study in contrasts. Clark read a physical newspaper, his attention complete. Kara stared out the window, watching the urban landscape blur past, but her mind was on the System interface she reluctantly pulled up.
`[Synergy Point Dashboard]`
`[Banked Points: 494]`
`[Today's Acquired: 32 (2 from Lois, 10 from observing Clark, 15 from Clark, 5 from Lois's mentorship)]`
`[Daily Quota Remaining: 968 / 1000]`
`[Time Remaining: 19 hours, 14 minutes]`
"Progress!" Clementine announced. "But slow-burn progress. You might need to engage in some direct dialogue to boost those numbers! Maybe ask Clark about his childhood? Deep, personal sharing is worth a lot!"
No, Kara thought back. I'm not mining my cousin's childhood for points. This has to be organic, or it's worthless.
"Organic is just a slower type of mining, but okay! Your funeral! Or rather, your power lockout!"
The Metropolis financial district was a canyon of steel and glass, all sharp angles and reflecting sunlight. Finding a freelance notary was like looking for a specific needle in a haystack of other, nearly identical needles. After two hours of dead ends, fake leads, and a very confusing interaction with a man who claimed to be a "digital notary for the blockchain," they were about to give up.
"Maybe McReady only works certain days," Clark mused, checking a scribbled note.
Kara's super-hearing, usually tuned out to a manageable background murmur, caught a fragment of conversation from a nearby open-air café. "…and McReady said he was done after that one. Said the guys in the suits gave him the creeps, paid him triple his rate to rush it through on a Saturday…"
She focused, filtering out the traffic noise, the chatter, the hum of electricity. Two construction workers in dusty overalls were sitting at a small table, eating sandwiches.
"Which suits?" the other worker asked, his mouth full.
"Dunno. Didn't say. Just said he was glad it was over and he was sticking to wedding certificates and loan papers from now on. Said he's at the booth on 43rd and Lex every Tuesday and Thursday. Today's Thursday."
Kara grabbed Clark's arm. "43rd and Lex. He's there today."
Clark didn't question how she knew. He just nodded. "Lead the way."
James McReady was a small, nervous-looking man with a wispy mustache and a portable notary booth that looked like a converted newspaper kiosk. He flinched when Clark and Kara approached, his eyes darting between them.
"Mr. McReady?" Clark began, using his open, non-threatening posture. "We're from the Daily Planet. We're looking into the sale of some waterfront property in National City, and our records show you notarized the documents for Peregrine Holdings about two years ago."
McReady's face went pale. "I notarize a lot of documents. I don't remember specifics."
"This was a big one," Kara said, stepping slightly forward. She channeled everything she'd learned from Lois and Clark—be direct, but human. "A multi-million dollar land sale. You'd remember. The people who hired you… you said they gave you the creeps."
McReady's eyes widened. "How did you…? Who are you people?"
"We're reporters," Kara said softly. "We're trying to find out who's behind Peregrine Holdings. A community was displaced because of that sale. Families lost their park. If those people did something wrong, or pressured you, you could help set it right."
She was appealing to his conscience, but she was also, acutely, aware of the potential for points. This was a high-stakes social interaction—extracting crucial information from a reluctant source. The System would have to value that.
Mcready glanced around furtively. "I… I can't. They paid me a lot. And they weren't… nice."
"What did they look like?" Clark asked.
"There were two of them. Bodyguard types. Big. Silent. The one doing the talking… older guy. Bald. Sharp dresser. Had a cane with a weird metal handle. Looked expensive. He didn't smile. Not once." Mcready shivered. "He just slid the papers over, pointed where to stamp, put a stack of cash on top of my fee, and said 'expediency is appreciated.' It wasn't a request."
A bald man with a cane. The description rang a distant, terrifying bell in Kara's memory—not Alex's, but Kara Danvers'. From news reports, from Superman's stories.
"Did he have a British accent?" Clark asked, his voice now devoid of all warmth.
Mcready nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Yeah, he did. Real precise, like a newsreader."
Clark and Kara exchanged a look. A name hung in the air between them, unspoken but thunderous.
`[Interaction: James McReady]`
`[Action: High-Pressure Information Extraction / Appealing to Conscience]`
`[Synergy Points Earned: +75]`
`[Bonus: Uncovered Key Antagonist Link +50]`
`[Total from Interaction: +125]`
`[Daily Quota Remaining: 843 / 1000]`
The points were significant, but they felt hollow. The information they'd just bought with a mix of empathy and pressure was chilling.
"Thank you, Mr. McReady," Clark said, his voice tight. "You've been very helpful."
They walked away in silence for a full block. The bustling Metropolis crowd swirled around them, oblivious.
"Lex Luthor," Kara finally breathed the name.
"Or someone working for him," Clark said. "A cane could be for show, or…" He didn't finish. Lex had been in and out of prison, in and out of schemes. His health, his motives, were always in flux.
"Peregrine Holdings is a Luthor front," Kara stated, the pieces snapping together. "He buys the land through a shell, develops it, profits, and erases a piece of a city that Superman calls home. It's a message. It's always a message with him."
"And it's a great story," Clark said, but he sounded weary. "A solid, corruption-busting story that Snapper will love. But, Kara…" He stopped, turning to face her. The late afternoon sun glinted off his glasses. "If Lex is involved, even peripherally, it's dangerous. He doesn't like reporters digging into his business. And he has a… particular history with our family."
Our family. The words held a weight Kara felt deep in this borrowed bones. She was part of this now. The danger was hers.
"I have to write it," she said, determination solidifying into a cold, hard lump in her chest. "It's the right thing to do."
Clark nodded slowly. "I know. And I'll help. But we have to be smart. Careful. We need more than a notary's recollection. We need a paper trail that leads directly to him, or it's just hearsay. And we need to protect Mcready. Lex wouldn't think twice about silencing him."
The moral complexity, the looming threat, the journalistic drive—it was a potent, overwhelming mix. Kara's head was spinning. But the System, ever-present, delivered another notification, this one different.
`[Quest Unlocked: The Luthor Connection]`
`[Prerequisite: Friendship with Lois Lane > 80 - MET]`
`[Objective: Investigate the link between Peregrine Holdings and Lex Luthor. Bring your findings to Lois Lane for strategic consultation.]`
`[Reward: Varies based on depth of discovery and risk undertaken.]`
`[Note: This quest interacts with the main Friendship Meter system. Success will significantly boost standing with Lois. Failure or exposure could have severe social and physical repercussions.]`
A real quest. Not a demeaning "slut" task, but a journalistic investigation with stakes, tied directly to her relationships. This was a path she could walk without feeling like she was losing herself.
"We need to talk to Lois," Kara said.
"Agreed," Clark replied. "But not at the office. Too many ears. My place, tonight. I'll order takeout. We'll plan."
The simple domesticity of the plan—takeout, planning at Clark's apartment—was another anchor. It felt normal. Human.
As they headed back towards the train station, Kara checked her point total again.
`[Synergy Point Dashboard]`
`[Banked Points: 494]`
`[Today's Acquired: 157]`
`[Daily Quota Remaining: 843 / 1000]`
`[Time Remaining: 17 hours, 02 minutes]`
She was still short. Dangerously short. The Luthor investigation would yield points, but it might take days. She had less than 17 hours to earn 843 points, or her Solar Flare ability—whatever that was—would be locked. She couldn't rely on the slow-burn social route alone. A cold dread began to seep in. Clementine had been right. The System would force her hand.
"Told you so!" the System voice sang, not unkindly. "But hey, you've got a lead on a big story and a dinner date with your cousin and your work-wife! The night is young! And full of point-scoring opportunities! Maybe you'll have a deep, bonding moment over egg rolls that's worth 300 points!"
Kara didn't answer. She watched the city lights begin to flicker on as dusk settled over Metropolis, a beautiful, sprawling trap. She had a villain to investigate, a quota to meet, and a growing, terrifying suspicion that before the night was over, the choice between her morals and her power might not be a choice at all.