Chapter 20: THE PRINCE REVEALED — Part 2
[DEO Headquarters, Corridor — Late October 2016, 8:47 PM]
The corridor was empty when Kara found me.
I'd been avoiding the common areas, staying in my quarters except for mandatory meals and the supervised walks that my new security protocols required. Ten hours since the revelation, and the weight of it hadn't lessened—if anything, it had grown heavier with each passing minute.
"We need to talk."
I turned from the window I'd been staring through. Kara stood at the corridor's entrance, still in civilian clothes—jeans and a sweater, her hair loose around her shoulders. Without the Supergirl suit, she looked younger somehow. More vulnerable.
More dangerous.
"I wasn't hiding," I said. "In case you were looking for me."
"I wasn't." She moved closer, stopping a few feet away. Close enough for conversation, far enough to maintain distance. "I've been thinking."
"About what?"
"About you. About everything since you crashed." She crossed her arms—protective posture, defensive. "You let me teach you. Train you. Defend you to J'onn when others wanted you contained permanently. All while lying about who you really are."
"Kara—"
"I'm not finished." Her voice was controlled, but I could hear the emotion beneath it—anger, yes, but also something rawer. Betrayal. "When I first came to Earth, I was terrified. Different. Alone. And when I finally found someone who might understand—another survivor from my corner of the galaxy—I thought maybe I could help them the way others helped me."
"You did help me."
"Did I? Or did I help the character you were playing?" She stepped closer, and now I could see her eyes clearly—red-rimmed, like she'd been crying. Kara Zor-El, the last daughter of Krypton, who had watched her world die and rebuilt herself from the ashes. "The humble guard who wanted to serve. The refugee grateful for any kindness. Was any of that real?"
"Yes." The word came out stronger than I expected. "I know how it looks. I know the evidence suggests I've been performing some elaborate deception. But the person you trained, the person who wanted to protect people—that's who I actually am."
"Then why lie about being a prince?"
"Because on Daxam, I was a spoiled heir who never helped anyone." The admission hurt to speak aloud. "I had everything—power, privilege, pleasure—and I used none of it for good. When Daxam fell, when I woke up here with a chance to start over, I didn't want to be that person anymore."
"So you invented a new identity."
"I tried to become a new identity." I moved toward her, closing some of the distance between us. "If you knew I was royalty, you would have judged me. Expected the worst. And honestly? You would have been right. The old Mon-El—the real prince—he deserved your contempt."
"But you're not him."
"I'm trying not to be."
Kara was quiet for a moment. Processing. I watched her work through the implications, the calculations running behind her eyes. She was brilliant—I'd known that from the show, but experiencing it firsthand was different. Watching her mind work in real-time, seeing the intelligence that lay beneath the heroic exterior.
"You lied," she said finally. "That's not negotiable. You looked me in the eye, day after day, and told me things that weren't true."
"Yes."
"And you're still lying about something." Her gaze sharpened. "I can see it. The way you react to things before they happen. The knowledge you shouldn't have. J'onn sees it too."
My heart rate spiked. She was too perceptive—had always been too perceptive. The transmigrator secret was still buried, but she was digging toward it without knowing what she'd find.
"Some things I can't explain," I said carefully. "Not because I'm trying to deceive you, but because the truth is... complicated. More than you'd believe."
"Try me."
I almost did. Almost opened my mouth and told her everything—the death in my original world, the awakening in Mon-El's body, the meta-knowledge that had guided my actions from the beginning. But even as the words formed, I knew she wouldn't believe them. Couldn't believe them. It was too far outside any framework she possessed.
"I can't," I said. "Not yet. Maybe not ever."
"Then how am I supposed to trust you?"
"You're not. Not with words." I met her gaze directly. "Words are what liars use. I've proven I'm good at lying. So anything I say now is worthless."
"Then what's left?"
"Actions." The answer came from somewhere deep, somewhere that had been forming since the moment my cover shattered. "I can't talk my way back into your trust. But I can show you who I'm trying to be. Through what I do, not what I say."
Kara studied me for a long moment. The anger in her expression hadn't faded, but something else had joined it—consideration, maybe. The beginning of a path forward.
"Fine," she said. "Actions. But Mon-El—if I catch you in another lie, any lie, about anything..." She let the threat hang unfinished.
"Understood."
"And one more thing." She stepped back, rebuilding the distance between us. "I don't know who you are. The guard who wanted to help, or the prince who lies for convenience. Figure it out. Then maybe we'll talk."
She walked away. The corridor felt colder after she left—emptier, like she'd taken something vital with her departure.
I leaned against the wall. Stayed there for a long time.
My legs felt weak, which was absurd for someone with superhuman strength. But physical power meant nothing against words that cut. Against disappointment from someone whose opinion I'd come to value.
In the show, Mon-El and Kara's relationship had followed a predictable arc—attraction, conflict, reconciliation, romance. I'd expected to navigate something similar, to use my knowledge of the storyline to smooth the rough edges.
Instead, I'd created new rough edges. Made everything harder through decisions I'd thought were clever.
The paper crane in my pocket reminded me of other secrets still buried. The transmigration. The past life. The impossible truth that would sound like madness to anyone I told.
Maybe some lies were necessary. Maybe some truths couldn't be shared.
But the lies I'd told about being a prince—those had been about fear, not necessity. Fear of judgment. Fear of being rejected before I had a chance to prove myself.
The irony wasn't lost on me. By hiding to avoid judgment, I'd ensured the judgment would be worse when it came.
I pushed myself off the wall. Started walking toward the training room.
If actions were what Kara wanted, actions were what she'd get. I couldn't undo the lies, couldn't rebuild trust with explanations. But I could train harder. Improve faster. Become someone worth trusting, regardless of what title I'd been born with.
The training room was empty at this hour—most agents had gone home or to their quarters. I approached the heavy bag, remembered the first one I'd destroyed during Alex's initial lessons. The sand spraying everywhere, Winn's horrified expression, the realization that my strength was real and dangerous.
I started hitting. Controlled strikes this time, focused power. The bag swung but didn't rupture.
Again. And again. And again.
The rhythm was meditative. Punch, breathe, adjust. Punch, breathe, adjust. Each impact grounding me in the present moment, pushing away the spiraling thoughts about trust and lies and impossible secrets.
I trained until my arms ached—genuinely ached, despite the enhanced healing. Until sweat soaked through my shirt and my knuckles throbbed from repeated impact.
Then I trained some more.
Actions, not words. Proof through deeds. It wasn't much of a plan. But it was the only one I had.
Note:
Please give good reviews and power stones itrings more people and more people means more chapters?
My Patreon is all about exploring 'What If' timelines, and you can get instant access to chapters far ahead of the public release.
Choose your journey:
Timeline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access + 5 new chapters weekly.
Timeline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Timeline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the moment I finish writing them. No more waiting.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/Whatif0