***
In the sterile hum of medical machinery, punctuated by the soft rumble echoing through the room, an open glass pane framed a breathtaking view of Earth below—a swirling marble of blue and green suspended in the void of space. The previously enraged silver-haired young man, now sat perched on the edge of a reinforced bed, wires and sensors pinned to his bare chest like reluctant vines. A female doctor, her movements precise yet cautious, monitored the glowing readouts on the holographic display while scribbling notes on her tablet. Her expression remained professional, but a faint tension lingered in her shoulders, as if she half-expected him to shatter the equipment in a fit of rage.
The door hissed open, and Supergirl stepped in, her cape fluttering slightly in the recycled air. Her eyes, still shadowed by unease, flicked toward him before settling on the doctor. "How is he?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with concern.
The doctor glanced up, adjusting her glasses with a calm nod. "Kryptonian, no doubt about it. Biological age: 21. But his resistance to kryptonite... that's the anomaly we can't explain. It should be impossible. We'll need further testing—scans, blood work, maybe even a cellular breakdown—to understand it fully." She paused, her tone oddly serene, almost wry. "Granted, he doesn't get pissed and tear me apart first."
The young man let out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, the wires tugging slightly. Supergirl approached, her cheeks warming with a flush she couldn't quite hide. She thanked him softly, her words tumbling out. "For believing in me back there... and for not killing J'onn. I—I don't know what came over me. I-I didn't think properly and did what I saw, At the time it seemed like a good idea." Her gaze darted everywhere but his face, flustered by the memory of that impulsive kiss, her heart still racing from the chaos of it all.
"No problem," he replied, his voice lighter now, a teasing edge creeping in. "For what its worth, Couldn't think straight after that... which apparently calmed me down. So it worked, Heh." He chuckled, and Kara's blush deepened, her fingers twisting the edge of her cape.
She took a breath, steadying herself, and sat on the bed's edge, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his Kryptonian frame. "Tell me everything. How did you get here? What do you remember? From the beginning." Her eyes finally met his, searching, a mix of curiosity and quiet vulnerability shining through. For the first time, she saw not a threat, but someone adrift—like her, once.
As they spoke in hushed tones, the conversation unfolding with tentative trust, the main headquarters of the Watchtower thrummed with a heavier tension. The Justice League sat around the massive circular table, injuries healed by advanced tech but still aching deep in their bones—a dull throb in Flash's mended hand, a bruise on Batman's ribs that no serum could fully erase. The air felt thick, charged with unspoken accusations and regrets. Even Superman, the eternal optimist, gazed at his colleagues with a conflicted furrow in his brow, his blue eyes reflecting the weight of the stars outside.
Finally, Superman broke the silence, his voice resonant yet measured, like a leader bridging a chasm. "Bruce, I want to make this clear: What Kyra did—even if it was drastic—was self-defense in his eyes. Against mind control. We all know that violation intimately." He shifted, glancing at J'onn, whose Martian features were etched with quiet remorse. "I hope none of us hold it against him."
( Yes I named him Kyra iY, that will remain as his kryptonian name as for his earth name ? I'll read the comments do suggest some good ones with surname included 💪😅)
The others murmured agreement—Wonder Woman nodding solemnly, Flash flexing his hand with a grimace, Green Lantern crossing his arms but offering a grudging "Fair point." Superman pressed on, his tone firm with resolve. "That said, I'll personally supervise Kyra. I motion that, under our collective watch, he be allowed to acclimate—become part of Earth's citizens, just like Kara did. I'll take full responsibility. Can I count on you all to agree?"
Nods rippled around the table, but eyes drifted to Batman, amusement flickering amid the tension. After the brawl, he'd been the most vocal, demanding Kyra's containment. Kyra had silenced him with a swift kick to the back—not lethal, but pointed. The League had tensed, ready to clash again, but Kyra had raised his hands, smirking through the adrenaline. "Got annoyed by his preaching," he'd growled. "If you want a real fight, I'll indulge. But don't call me a brute when *he* dosed me with life-threatening glowing rocks first."
( Kara translated for him, but he knows English so it's just a disguise)
He'd owned his violence then, admitting it with a raw edge, but added, "If I'd truly wanted him dead, The flame dragon wannabe wouldn't have survived the first blow—let alone lived to whine about it."
( Flame dragons are batlike creatures gigantic and breathe fire in krypton)
The words hung like a challenge, forcing the League to confront their own restraint. They'd held back, guilty over J'onn's secret probe—justice shouldn't probe minds uninvited. But Kyra's aggression? Snapping Flash's hand? Charging Batman again after the point was made? It sowed seeds of doubt.
They were angry, vigilant, parsing his claims through wary lenses. *If he wasn't a loose cannon, why escalate?* Yet Superman's trust—Kal-El's translation of Kyra's words, his watchful eye on the large screen showing Kyra and Kara chatting amiably, even letting them draw his blood—tempered their judgments. No one voiced inner turmoil aloud, save the major players.
Batman sat silently, chin resting on intertwined hands, eyes narrowed behind the cowl. *He clocked me as the physical weak link,* he thought, a grudging respect mingling with suspicion. *Secrets on top of secrets. But violence like his... it doesn't fade with excuses.*
***