The Kansas sky stretched endlessly, painted in soft gold as the sun began its slow descent. The Kent farm stood peaceful beneath it — untouched by chaos, untouched by headlines, untouched by the weight of the world.
Inside the white farmhouse, Phina (but Vita will be used mostly) also known by her Heroic name Vita Nova stood by the kitchen window.
Five years.
Five years since she walked away from the Justice League.
Five years since she walked away from Clark.
The fields outside swayed gently in the wind, corn brushing against corn like whispers that never quite reached her. She had grown used to this silence. Used to mornings without alarms from the Watchtower. Used to nights without emergency signals flashing red.
But peace and fulfillment were not the same thing.
Behind her, Martha Kent folded a dish towel neatly on the counter, watching Phina with knowing eyes.
"You didn't sleep again, did you?" Martha asked gently.
Phina forced a small smile. "I did. Just… not deeply."
Jonathan Kent sat at the dining table, newspaper untouched in his hands. "Restlessness usually means something's changing."
Phina turned from the window. "Nothing's changing."
But even as she said it, her chest felt tight.
Because something had been shifting for weeks now. She could feel it in the air — like static before lightning. Her powers had been fluctuating too. Small flickers of light pulsing under her skin at night. Her mind-restoring abilities reacting to things that weren't there.
Or maybe to someone. Then it came. A distant sonic boom tore across the sky.
Phina froze. She knew that sound.
Outside, wind spiraled downward in a controlled vortex as a figure descended from the clouds — armored, radiant, undeniable.
Diana.
Wonder Woman landed at the edge of the field, boots touching earth with authority. She didn't storm toward the house. She walked.
Martha placed a gentle hand on Phina's shoulder. "Go." Phina swallowed and stepped outside.
The wind died down as she approached Diana. The two women stood facing each other in the golden field — warriors in different forms.
"Diana," Vita said calmly.
"Phina."
No hug. No smiles. Just history.
Diana studied her carefully. "You look well." "I am well."
Diana tilted her head slightly. "Are you?"
Silence stretched between them.
The breeze carried the scent of soil and wheat. It reminded Phina why she stayed. This place didn't demand anything from her. It didn't expect her to save it.
"I didn't come here to disturb your peace," Diana said evenly. "But the League is not at peace."
Phina's expression hardened just slightly. "That's not my responsibility anymore."
"Isn't it?"
There was no accusation in Diana's voice — just truth.
Phina turned away first. "You have Clark."
Diana's jaw tightened.
"We have Superman," she corrected. "But we do not have balance."
That made Phina look back.
Diana stepped closer. "He functions. He fights. He saves. But something is fractured."
Phina's throat tightened despite herself. "That stopped being my concern five years ago."
"Did it?"
The words hit deeper than Phina expected.
Diana did not mention love. She did not mention heartbreak. She did not mention the clone.
Instead, she said quietly:
"You were never just his partner."
Phina said nothing.
"You were our stabilizer. When conflicts rose, you resolved them. When minds fractured, you restored them. When morale dropped, you lifted it."
Diana's eyes softened.
"And when you left… something left with you."
That hurt more than anything about Clark.
Because Phina never intended to abandon the League.
She only meant to escape pain. The wind picked up again.
"I won't return just to be his emotional anchor," Phina said firmly. "I won't exist to fix him."
Diana nodded immediately. "Then don't."
That answer startled her.
"Return because you choose to," Diana continued. "Return because you are Vita Nova. Not because you love him. Not because you hate him. Because you are needed."
Needed. The word echoed in her chest. Behind them, Martha stepped out onto the porch.
"You can't hide from destiny forever, dear," she called gently. "But destiny isn't about suffering. It's about choice."
Jonathan joined her.
"You've healed here," he said. "But healing isn't the same as living."
Phina's composure cracked just slightly.
She looked at Martha — the woman she once believed would be her mother-in-law.
Martha smiled softly.
"Trust fate."
The words were warm. Not forceful. Not commanding.
Just faith.
Phina's eyes shimmered faintly — golden light flickering beneath her skin as emotion stirred her power.
For five years she convinced herself leaving was strength.
But maybe returning required more courage.
She inhaled slowly. Exhaled.
Then finally—
"I won't go back for him," she said quietly.
Diana gave a small, understanding nod.
"I'll go back for me."
Martha's smile widened, proud. Jonathan gave a single approving nod.
The invisible jet shimmered into visibility behind Diana.
Phina walked toward it — then paused.
She turned back to the farmhouse. To safety. To quiet. To the version of herself that hid here.
Then she faced forward again.
And stepped inside.
The jet lifted into the sky, leaving Kansas shrinking below.
High above Earth, the Watchtower rotated slowly in orbit — cold, metallic, unfeeling.
Inside its command center, Clark stood before the observation window.
He didn't know why he felt restless today.
He didn't know why his chest felt tight.
Then—
An alert blinked softly. Incoming Amazonian craft.
He turned.
The hangar doors opened. The jet phased into visibility. And as the ramp lowered—
Vita Nova stepped out. Alive. Radiant. Stronger.
Clark froze.
Five years.
And suddenly—
She was standing in front of him again. Neither moved. Neither spoke.
The air between them felt heavier than gravity.
And for the first time in five years—
The Light had returned to the League.