Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Months had passed since the death of Superman, a beacon of hope from another world, and the retirement of Japan's greatest hero, All Might.

The world was still grappling with the loss of two titans back in July. Two symbols who had inspired not only their own nations, but the entire planet.

Crime rates would occasionally spike. Fear would creep into places that once felt safe. Even the next generation of heroes, trained in institutions like U.A. High School carried the burden of filling shoes too large to truly replace.

Despite that, the heroes of the future, both the official heroes in the schools and the unofficial vigilantes on the streets, were proven time and time again to be able to face the challenges coming toward them. The arrest of Overhaul in September and the defeat of Nine and his allies in October were among the greatest examples of that.

And not to mention the reveal of the two robot heroes on November, Six and Mars. They are the heroes of the future as well.

Time went on since then.

Then, something unexpected happened in the beginning of December, several weeks before the dawn of the new year.

In the stillness of night, just a few minutes before the crack of dawn appeared on the horizon, a meteor blazed across the sky, tearing through the atmosphere. Like a comet, the blade of light cut through the dark before crashing deep into the Mojave Desert.

Within moments, satellite feeds picked it up. Government agencies scrambled. But one hero moved faster than any bureaucratic chain could respond.

Cathleen Bate, who was also called by Star and Stripe, America's No. 1 Pro Hero, who was both an admirer of the retired All Might and the mentor of the late Superman, launched into the sky. Her Quirk-enhanced flight left shockwaves behind as she rocketed toward the crash site.

The crater was still smoldering when Cathleen descended. Sand hissed beneath her boots, scorched to glass where the alien object had landed. The rocket pulsed faintly with a blue light, its hull unmarred by the violent entry. The lack of damage on the sleek metal was clear evidence of extraterrestrial technology.

Approaching with caution, Cathleen readied her Quirk, New Order. She was ready to bend the laws of reality to her command should the threat prove hostile.

She couldn't be blamed for taking precautions, because the last time a meteor crashed on Earth, it was proven to be hostile. Very hostile.

Doomsday. The monster who had killed Superman. It landed close to Tokyo before its rampage from the woods to the city was stopped by Superman... at the cost of his life.

But as the hatch hissed open, the revelation of what the rocket contained stunned the heroine into silence.

It was a girl. No older than 16. Her shoulder-length blonde hair cascaded down her head in waves. Her flawless, pale skin glowed beneath a strange blue shirt. And an equally strange pair of red trousers.

Her breathing was audibly steady. She's alive.

But the one thing that caught Cathleen's attention was the crest. A little red pin placed over her heart.

Despite the slight differences in the pattern of the unmistakable "S" on the diamond-shaped shield, there was no mistaking it. It was the crest of the House of El. The same crest worn by Superman, the same man who had once flown side-by-side with All Might and herself in a battle against evil that transcended everything they had faced. That same battle was won at the cost of Superman's life.

Cathleen looked into the girl's blue eyes. This girl's expression wasn't hostile. It was confused, scared.

It was just like how Cathleen imagined it. How Jonathan and Martha greeted their son for the first time when he came into this world. Cathleen felt it. She had always known that bearing witness to a life coming to this world... felt like a miracle, biological or not.

And indeed, it was a miracle. She's a miracle.

"It's okay. You are okay. I'm..."

Cathleen's words were interrupted as the girl opened her mouth to speak. But Cathleen couldn't understand the words coming out of her as she began to crawl out of the rocket and stood on solid ground.

Cathleen thought that, of course, the Kryptonians must have a language of their own. A language alien to human ears.

Later, Cathleen noticed the small, sleek device attached to Kara's left wrist: a silver watch-like device shaped like the very same symbol on the girl's pin. A soft blue light pulsed along its rim as the girl spoke.

The heroine then wondered if...

"You are okay. You are going to be okay," Cathleen assured her as she began the conversation in earnest.

Then, the watch spoke to Cathleen in a female voice... and in English. "Analysing language. Activating translator."

That's what she thought. The universal translator embedded in the watch could process the girl's native Kryptonian speech and render it into clear English spoken in a female voice. Just like the technologies of her world, but... much more advanced.

It was waiting for Cathleen to speak. To analyse her language.

An AI? There was no AI that advanced on Earth. Or compact, for that matter, to be able to fit in a single watch.

Cathleen wanted to ask the girl about how the AI worked, but she knew there are more important questions than that. It could wait.

"What is your name?" The device also translated Cathleen's question for the girl into Kryptonian.

"I'm Kara. Kara Zor-El." The machine translated Kara's speech to English, but it didn't translate her shaking voice. Cathleen's ears picked it up.

And the name hit Cathleen like a punch to the chest.

Zor-El.

House of El.

There was no mistaking it. It was Superman's family name.

She wasn't just an ordinary Kryptonian. She was his blood. A legacy wrapped in flesh and fire.

Cathleen had thought that, maybe, many other houses in Krypton wore symbols similar to that of the House of El, with the only differences being the pattern contained in the red shield. There would certainly be other families on Krypton who had an "S" in their shield, wouldn't it?

The reveal of the girl's family name had proven her wrong.

"Okay, Kara. I'm Cathleen. Cathleen Bate."

"Where am I, Cathleen Bate?" Kara asked.

"You're on Earth. I'm a hero here." The device translated everything Cathleen had said to Kara. "I'm... I'm a friend of Kal-El."

"Kal-El?" That particular name didn't need translation. But then, Kara's eyes narrowed at the mention of it. Her brow furrowed at the heroine with confusion, maybe even suspicion.

"That's not possible," Kara said quietly. "Kal was just a baby when I left Krypton. I was supposed to watch over him. My pod should've arrived the same time as he was." Her gaze darted back to the rocket behind her, realization beginning to dawn. "Something went wrong."

Cathleen nodded. "It must've. He got here 25 years ago. Grew up on Earth. His Earth. He went by the name Clark Kent."

Kara's lips parted slightly to say her cousin's Earth name out loud. Unlike everything she had said before then, that name didn't need translation.

"Clark...?"

Cathleen smiled faintly. "He became one of the greatest heroes we ever had. I trained him myself. He saved the world more times than I can count. He was hope incarnate. We called him Superman."

A stunned breath left Kara's lungs as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Her eyes widened as it shone with pure astonishment.

"He made it?" she whispered. "He lived? Kal... he lived?" As her hands moved to cover her mouth, her laugh broke through her disbelief. Her laugh was soft, tearful, and sounded like she was overwhelmed with emotions at the realization. "He made it..."

She stepped forward, slightly trembling on her legs, and gripped Cathleen's arms. Her fingers were clutching as if she was trying to anchor herself to reality.

"Where is he? I have to see him. I have so many things to tell him. I've waited for so long."

Cathleen's smile faltered. Her lips parted to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

How do you crush hope after you just let it bloom?

Cathleen's voice was gentle as she softly broke the news to Kara. Everyone on Earth had known it. And now, Earth's latest visitor from the skies was about to know it.

"Kara, it pains me to tell you this, but... he's gone."

The world seemed to still.

Kara stared at her once more. In disbelief this time. She heard it.

"No..."

"I'm so sorry, Kara. He died months ago. He died saving this world. His final act... was to make sure others could live."

Kara took a step back, the weight of it beginning to settle in. Her breathing quickened, her gaze unfocused.

"No... I was supposed to protect him," she said, more to herself than to Cathleen. "I was supposed to look after him. I failed..."

And then the tears came. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just quiet, shattering sobs as she sank to her knees in the sand while clutching her heart.

"I'm sorry..." Kara apologized to her family. Her father. Her mother. Her uncle. And her aunt. She had failed them all.

Kara Zor-El, the girl from Krypton, wept for the cousin she had once cradled in her arms. A baby boy she had last seen smiling in her embrace just before everything was destroyed. The baby she never got to see grow up.

Now, she never would.

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

Kara stayed kneeling in the sand as her tears fell silently. But as the wind swept across the Mojave, the desert faded from her mind, and she was taken, no... pulled back to another sky. Another world. A dying world.

She could still hear the alarms. The sirens blaring through Argo City. The distant tremors as Krypton tore itself apart from within.

She remembered the fear in her parents' eyes, though they tried so hard to hide it. Alura's hands cupping her face, brushing away Kara's tears. Zor-El's voice steady, even as the walls trembled around them.

The emergency escape of Argo City by launching the entire city into orbit, which was a brainchild of Zor-El, failed to activate at the worst possible moment. Even as their city-wide shield, which was yet another brainchild of Zor-El, stayed intact, it wouldn't be able to shield the city from the cataclysmic destruction of Krypton.

There was no hope for the people of Argo City.

All but one. Because Zor-El and Alura In-Ze had one rocket. For one person only.

Kara Zor-El.

Her father knew that there would be no hope for him or Alura. But there was hope for Kara. And that was enough for Zor-El.

As Zor-El prepared the launch sequence in Argo City's control room, Alura never stopped comforting her daughter. She told Kara that her uncle and aunt, Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van, would launch her baby cousin with her.

Kal-El.

"You'll watch over him," her mother had whispered. "You'll never be alone. He'll be with you. You'll take care of each other."

Then, they brought her to the launch bay. The rocket was sleek, narrow, with barely enough room to lie down.

Kara had cried, begged them to come with her. But her father only shook his head and kissed her forehead.

"Krypton needs a legacy," he said. "And it's the two of you."

As the canopy sealed shut, she looked through the glass one last time. She looked at her mother's proud smile, at her father's trembling hands.

Then the boosters ignited, and she was gone.

Kara had seen the explosion before she felt it. She saw light bursting from Krypton's core like a second sun. A shockwave of fire and death, tearing her home apart. Her family, her friends, all gone.

She had screamed. She wailed.

But then... beside her, there was a shine of metal. A second pod had launched from Krypton. Just like hers, it was sleek and small, drifting through the stars just out of reach.

Inside, swaddled in red and blue, was a sleeping infant.

Kal-El. Her baby cousin.

Her breath had caught in her throat at the sight of life in the baby boy. Even then, through tears, through fear, she had smiled. The smallest flicker of light in the endless dark. Hope.

The hope that the love of their parents live on in their children. The last son and the last daughter of Krypton.

Even when he was just an infant, he was able to give hope.

Kara touched the glass, reaching for the baby next to her.

She promised with all her heart that no harm will come to him as long as she lived.

But it hadn't lasted.

A cascade of debris from Krypton's shattered planet collided with the pods. Her view of Kal was eclipsed. Her ship spun wildly, systems sparking. She screamed his name, reaching out, powerless to stop the separation.

"KAL!"

And then, there was nothing but silence and darkness. She was suspended between stars and sleep for twenty-five years. Alone.

Back in the desert, the memory faded, but the ache remained. Kara's voice broke as she whispered his name again, barely audible:

"Kal..."

Cathleen said nothing. There was nothing to say. Just her silent and respectful presence as the last daughter of Krypton grieved her cousin... who became the man the world had needed.

As Kara stayed kneeling in the desert, her fingers buried in the sand, the cool grains began to feel like the soft floors of home, of Krypton. Her vision blurred, not just with tears, but with yet another memory of Krypton.

Unlike the first, the second memory was more bittersweet. But it was still painful. And raw, because, for her, that memory had only been a week ago.

She remembered the soft, pale lighting of their home. The crystalline walls hummed faintly with energy.

Outside, the towers of Argo City shimmered under Krypton's red sun, Rao.

Inside, laughter echoed.

Sixteen-year-old Kara Zor-El was wearing her blue shirt and red trousers, with a freshly forged pin with the House of El's family crest clipped proudly over her heart.

She had just passed the trials a few days earlier, which were meant to test a Kryptonian mentally, physically, ethically. She was ready to uphold the values of her family, of Krypton, and to bear the family crest proudly.

But none of that mattered at the moment.

Because Kal-El, her little cousin, who was born just a few months ago, was babbling at her feet, arms reaching up. He kept squealing, as if he wanted to go high.

Kara laughed. She scooped him up effortlessly, holding him under his arms, and lifted him high above her head.

"You want to fly, little cousin?" she grinned. "Let's fly."

Kal giggled uncontrollably as she zoomed him around the room, mimicking the sound of thrusters, dodging imaginary meteors, doing spins. His laughter filled the air, lighting up the house more than any sun could. She held him close, nuzzled his chubby cheek, and whispered:

"One day, you'll fly for real, Kal. I know you'll fly up in the sky."

He just giggled again and smacked her cheek with a happy, clumsy hand.

They played for hours. Just the two of them. Their parents were in high council meetings, doing serious discussions about Krypton's growing instability. But to Kara, the world outside didn't matter in that moment.

It was just her and Kal. Her tiny, smiling cousin. Taking care of him while Uncle Jor-El and Aunt Lara were out with her mother and father had been Kara's first mission.

He was her first duty. Her heart. And she was holding him in her hands.

But, back in the present, the desert sand slipped from between her fingers like time itself. Her tears had dried, but her eyes were hollow, distant.

To her... it had only been a week ago.

And now, the baby she had lifted to the stars... had lived and died without her.

Cathleen knelt beside her again, saying nothing, but her hand rested gently on Kara's back.

Kara closed her eyes and whispered into the wind, as if Kal might somehow hear her:

"You were meant to wear the crest too. You were supposed to grow up knowing you were loved... that you weren't alone."

A long pause.

"I should've been there. I'm sorry..."

The desert wind stirred her hair as the weight of years lost bore down on her.

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

Cathleen watched Kara, hesitant to interrupt the storm of grief that had just begun to settle. But time was moving, and they couldn't stay in the open much longer. Surveillance drones were already on their way, and the U.S. Hero Commission would be scrambling for answers once they realized she had gone off-grid.

Just like how Cathleen knew Kara shouldn't stay in grief for too long. She could cry if she needed to. Shed her tears if she needed to. But she mustn't drown in them.

Gently, she placed a hand on Kara's shoulder.

"Come with me," she said softly. "You're not alone anymore."

Kara looked up, her eyes glassy but calmer. She nodded faintly, beginning to rise to her feet.

But then, something shifted.

The wind grew warmer.

The shadows on the crater floor began to retreat, the sky above bleeding into hues of gold and orange.

And then, the morning sun rose over the desert.

It wasn't an old red sun, like Rao back on Krypton, but a younger yellow sun, shining fiercely over the Mojave horizon.

Kara staggered as its rays touched her skin. Her eyes widened. Her body trembled.

"I... I feel..." she gasped.

Her breath caught in her throat. The warmth of the sun wasn't just heat for the Kryptonian. It was energy, rushing into her like a dam had broken.

Solar energy charged her cells for the first time, giving Kara powers she never knew she had.

Her knees buckled, but instead of falling, she floated a few inches off the ground as bits of sand rose along with her, following her own gravitational field.

"Kara!" Cathleen called out, stepping back as sand around the girl began to swirl upward, lifted by a sudden pressure wave.

Kara's pupils contracted, her body glowing faintly, her muscles surging with sudden strength. She clutched her head, overwhelmed.

"I can't... what's happening...?!" Her voice echoed unnaturally, laced with force she couldn't control.

Cathleen instantly activated her Quirk, New Order.

"The air around her is heavy."

The air pressure around Kara dropped like a bubble, forming an invisible cocoon to slow her ascension and suppress the storm of energy building around her.

But even so, beams of uncontrolled heat vision flashed from Kara's eyes, carving faint glowing lines into the sand as she clenched them shut.

"I don't... I don't know how to stop it!" Kara cried. "Everything's too loud. I can see through things, I can hear everything... everyone..."

Cathleen tried to stay calm. She'd seen power before, in both All Might and Superman. But this was raw. Untamed. The kind of power that could potentially level cities or raze civilizations.

She was dealing with what's potentially the most powerful hero on the planet. Given time.

"Kara! Focus on my voice!" she shouted over the rising winds. "It's the sun! The yellow sun here makes you stronger. It's in your cells. Kal learned to control it. You can too!"

Kara trembled, fists clenched, floating higher.

"I didn't ask for this!"

The cry tore from Kara's throat like a scream bottled for 25 years.

The sand beneath her fractured, forming small craters with each pulse of energy that surged from her skin. Her hands trembled, fists clenched at her sides, glowing faintly as solar radiation kept supercharging her cells. Her hair floated around her like it was underwater, lifted by the energy rippling off her body.

She stumbled back, clutching her head, her eyes wide and frantic.

"I didn't want this! I didn't want to wake up in a world where he's gone!"

Her voice cracked, choked by grief and rage.

"When I saw his pod beside mine, I had hope!" she cried, voice quaking. "I thought... we'd be together! That we'd land together, grow up together! I wasn't supposed to be alone!"

A sudden burst of heat vision flared from her eyes, searing into the sky, uncontrolled, as she screamed out in anguish. Both her terrible loss and sensory overload took a toll on her emotions.

"I was supposed to protect him!"

Cathleen braced herself as the shockwave slammed into the ground, sending dust and debris flying. Kara floated several feet off the desert floor now, her skin beginning to glow with solar energy, her breath shallow, rapid, and panicked.

"I was his guardian," she sobbed. "I held him in my arms, and now he's... he's gone, and I don't even know what his voice sounded like as a man."

Her vision fractured. Literally. X-ray, infrared, microscopic, the numerous modes of sight she'd never used before... hit her all at once. She could see into the ground. Into her own hands. Into Cathleen's bones and muscles. Her mind screamed under the sensory overload.

And not to mention her newfound enhanced hearing.

"I can hear people," she whispered, her voice breaking as her hands covered her ears. "All of them... cities away. Their hearts. Their breathing. Their cries. It's too much!"

Kara collapsed to her knees, landing back on the ground. The energy had taken a toll on her body. She was exhausted. Her body had gone from starved to supercharged in seconds, and her mind couldn't keep up.

Cathleen stepped forward again, steady and calm despite the faint crackle of energy emanating from the girl.

"You're not alone, Kara."

Kara's eyes lifted toward Cathleen. Her gaze was wild, glowing, and pleading.

"I lost everything. But I had him. But when I woke up, he was gone. What am I supposed to do with all of this?!"

Cathleen knelt on the sand, right in front of her, resting a hand on her shoulder once again.

"You feel everything because you care. That's what made Kal a hero. Not the powers. The heart. And you still have yours."

Kara's breath hitched. Her glowing eyes slowly dimmed. The sparks calmed.

Not gone, but quieter now.

"I miss him," she whispered.

Cathleen's voice was gentle. "Then honor him. Live. Not just for him. But for yourself."

Kara closed her eyes. The sun still beat down on her, but she no longer flinched. She let it in. Not all at once. Not blindly. Just enough to stay grounded.

The tears came again, quieter this time. She was still kneeling in the sand. But now, for the first time since awakening, she wasn't alone.

"What should I do now?" Kara finally spoke. No sobs, just... exhaustion.

"You can start by putting one foot in front of the other... and try to make the best choices you can," Cathleen comforted her. "And now, the best choice you can make is to live. To keep moving forward."

Cathleen then helped her up on her feet.

"And if you let me... I'll help you, Kara."

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

In the days that followed Kara's arrival, Cathleen Bate, Star and Stripe, took her under her wing.

She knew Kara was grieving. She knew the overwhelming power surging through her veins was a storm Kara could barely hold back. Strength without control could be as dangerous to Kara as it was to the world around her.

So, Cathleen did what heroes were meant to do. She helped her. She trained her. Just like she did with Clark.

Unlike Clark, however, she additionally trained Kara to help her adapt to her new surroundings.

And, of course, to control her strength before training her to be the hero she could be.

Be a hero. Cathleen couldn't think of another purpose for the girl. And she knew the poor girl needed this. There was no nobler fight than fighting to save lives. To bring back the smiles on their faces.

And it felt good. Cathleen knew that. She, of all people, would understand. She had been on both sides. She was on the receiving end once. And now, she was on the giving end. She was once saved by All Might, many years ago, and now, many years later, she was the one doing the saving.

From that, Cathleen knew that being a hero will not only bring back the hope for the future in the people's hearts, but to Kara as well.

Out in the open deserts where no civilians could be hurt, they started with the basics. Despite the time of the year, the sun was blazing.

Breathing. Focus. Control.

At first, it was chaos. Kara's strength would spike without warning. A misstep would shatter boulders. A half-formed leap would send her soaring a mile into the air, screaming in fear. She couldn't touch anything without crushing it. Couldn't move too fast without tearing the ground beneath her feet.

And when she grew frustrated, when memories of Kal-El, Krypton, and her lost family flooded her, her heat vision would spark from her eyes uncontrolled, burning scars into the earth. She would fall to her knees more than once, fists pounding the sand, sobbing that she didn't ask for this.

It was something Cathleen could understand. Grief can come like a flood. Sometimes, when you least expect it. Out of nowhere. It would be like an attack one could never see coming.

But Cathleen stayed beside her through every moment. She never flinched. Never gave up on her.

Cathleen taught her how to ground herself. Physically and emotionally. To feel the Earth that has become her home. To hear her own heartbeat. To understand her own strength before she used it.

She showed her drills used by human soldiers. Patience, repetition, and meditation.

She adapted techniques she had once used to train young heroes, including Kal-El, balancing raw potential with discipline.

It took time, but, eventually, Kara learned to lift a truck without crushing it. To run without destroying the ground beneath her. To fly without fear. To hear the world without being overwhelmed by it.

Under her tutelage, Kara grew stronger every day. Not just in body, but in spirit.

Cathleen didn't just teach her how to be powerful. She taught her to be one with her new self. To adapt.

She didn't have to teach Kara how to fight, as it turned out, nor did she have to teach her how to be worthy of the symbol she bore over her heart.

The House of El's family crest. She had earned it a long time ago. Back on Krypton. Cathleen saw her moves when she first saw what she's capable of. She was trained. She had passed the trials, after all.

All that was left was to teach her how to control and use her newfound strength to compliment them.

By the end of the first month of training, Kara was standing tall against the sunset, arms steady, heart strong, facing the star that had empowered her.

She wasn't Kal-El. She was Kara Zor-El.

And she would soon be ready to forge her own path as her own hero.

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

One day, Cathleen watched Kara from a distance as the girl practiced, hovering just a few inches above the desert floor, focusing intently on steadying her breathing.

The thought had crossed her mind more than once: U.A. High School. The premier institution for training young heroes. A place where someone with raw talent and good intentions could be molded into something great.

It should have been a perfect fit. Especially as Kara would be close to Cathleen's idol, All Might himself. She, of all people, would know that All Might would know what to do with someone like Kara.

She knew that All Might had already taken Izuku Midoriya under his wing, but she hoped she wouldn't burden him much by adding another one. After all, he's a teacher who was obviously now familiar with how to handle 20 students in a single class.

Well, there were many other prestigious hero academies on U.S. soil. There's the Marvellous Central University in New York, Beacon Academy in Boston...

But Cathleen couldn't help but gravitate her attention towards U.A. High School in Japan, not the schools on U.S. soil.

Like All Might and the late Superman, Kara wouldn't be like any other hero in the world.

And Kara, despite all the power at her fingertips, was still just a 16-year-old girl. She was scared, grieving, lost in a world not her own.

She deserved a chance to live. To make friends among heroes her age. To find her place within them as they welcomed her with open arms. She knew U.A. would do just that.

But every time Cathleen seriously considered it, a heavy knot formed in her stomach.

Kara wasn't just strong. She was otherworldly. The kind of strength that could level cities if she lost control. The kind of speed that could outpace missiles. The kind of potential that made even seasoned heroes hesitate.

Cathleen wasn't afraid of Kara, not exactly. She was afraid for Kara. And for the students at U.A. who weren't ready for someone like Kara.

How would Kara fit among them? Would they fear her? Would she lose herself trying to blend in? What if something inadvertently triggered a burst of her powers in the middle of a crowded hallway?

"No, not yet," Cathleen thought.

What if the world decided to see her not as a girl, but as a weapon, a foreigner, or an experiment?

"No, she's under my protection."

She would continue to train Kara herself. Out here, where the desert could absorb the mistakes, where the sky was big enough to catch her if she fell. Where she could learn to be strong without fear.

After that... who knows?

Maybe one day, Kara would be ready to walk the halls of U.A., not as a ticking bomb, but as a symbol. A living embodiment of the hope her family had always stood for.

Maybe one day, she would find new friends among the heroes-in-training.

For now, though, Cathleen had only one mission:

Help Kara believe in herself.

Help Kara believe she could be more than the power she wielded.

Cathleen folded her arms and smiled faintly as she watched Kara steady herself in mid-air, determination burning in her blue eyes.

She was getting there. Slowly but surely.

Additionally, part of their daily sessions wasn't just about power and control. It was about learning the language.

Cathleen would patiently teach her simple English words first.

"Sun."

"Earth."

"Fly."

"Home."

Then she moved to phrases. Then sentences. And paragraphs.

And Kara, determined and proud, absorbed it with incredible speed. Language was a code, a pattern, and Kryptonians, bred from a civilization built on science and precision, were very good with patterns.

Within a month, Kara began switching off the translator on her watch during conversations, challenging herself to speak directly in English.

At first, she stumbled, mixing Kryptonian words in, laughing or blushing furiously when Cathleen gently corrected her.

But over time, the translator function of the Kryptonian AI in her watch, Kelex, was needed less and less.

Eventually, it lay dormant on her wrist. Not forgotten, but unnecessary. For now.

Kara didn't just want to survive on this world. She wanted to live in it. She wanted to belong.

Speaking its language was her first real step toward that.

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

The sun dipped low over the desert, painting the sky in shades of molten gold and deep purple. Kara hovered a few feet above the sand, her clothes fluttering softly in the desert's warm breeze.

They had been at it all afternoon. Drills, focus exercises, and language lessons. Kara was exhausted, but she was smiling. A real smile.

Cathleen stood with her hands on her hips, watching proudly as Kara landed gracefully, her boots sinking slightly into the sand.

"You're getting better every day, Kara," Cathleen said, wiping sweat from her brow.

Kara nodded, hesitating for a moment.

There was something in her eyes. Something she wanted to say.

Cathleen waited patiently, giving her the space.

Kara tapped the silver band on her wrist and made sure the translator stayed off. The light along its rim had long since faded. Silence hung between them.

For a long moment, Kara struggled, searching for the right words.

Then she spoke, her accent thick but her voice steady.

"I... I am glad you find me."

Cathleen blinked, stunned.

Kara pressed on, frowning in concentration. "I was... scared. Alone. But you... you stayed with me."

She put her hand over the House of El symbol on her chest, then extended it toward Cathleen. It was a simple, earnest gesture.

"You are... family."

The last word caught slightly in Kara's throat, but she said it.

Cathleen felt her throat tighten. She hadn't realized how much she needed to hear that too. After everything they had lost.

She stepped forward, placing a firm, reassuring hand on Kara's shoulder.

"You're not alone anymore, Kara," she said softly. "I promise."

And for the first time since crashing to this strange, bright world, Kara truly believed it.

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

A few weeks after Kara's control had stabilized enough, around mid-December, Cathleen decided it was time for the next step.

It was not another training session, nor was it another desert drill.

It was something deeper. Something Kara sorely needed.

Cathleen and Kara flew together to a small, quiet farmhouse nestled between endless fields of snow.

The Kent Farm in Smallville, Kansas.

It was late afternoon when they arrived. The air smelled of earth and fresh snow, and the old windmill creaked in the cold breeze. The porch light was on, even though it was still daylight. A soft beacon of welcome.

And as it was December, as yet another winter was closing in, light snow was still falling.

Kara touched down on the snow-covered path, looking around nervously. She could feel the warmth here. The sense of history. Of love.

Waiting on the porch was an older woman with kind eyes and silvering hair pulled back into a loose braid. She wore a simple apron dusted with flour, and her hands were strong and gentle. A simple black coat shielded her from the cold.

Martha Kent.

Cathleen smiled as she led Kara forward.

"Martha, this is Kara Zor-El," Cathleen said softly.

Martha's eyes widened slightly at the name, and even more at the unmistakable symbol pinned over Kara's heart.

"The House of El," Martha whispered, her voice catching. "It's you. Kara."

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, with all the warmth of a mother who had loved and raised a boy from another world, Martha opened her arms wide.

Kara hesitated, just for a heartbeat, then rushed forward into her embrace.

Martha held her tightly, stroking Kara's hair as if she had always been part of the family.

"You're safe now, sweetheart," Martha murmured. "You're home."

Kara clutched the old woman tightly, tears slipping down her cheeks. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, she belonged somewhere.

Inside the house, the walls were lined with framed photographs: Clark growing up, his awkward teenage years, his proud smile in the old Smallville High School jacket, the day he first wore the cape.

Martha had quietly taken a picture of Jonathan and Clark standing on the hill at the back of the house, watching the sunset. Clark was in his hero costume. It was beautiful. It was the day when Jonathan and Martha knew their son was ready to fly.

It was... last spring. Some days, it felt like a long time ago. Others... it felt like yesterday.

There were news clippings too:

"MIRACLE IN SMALLVILLE TORNADO."

"NUCLEAR THREAT AVERTED BY SUPERMAN."

"ALL FOR ONE DEFEATED IN USJ."

The thing was, for the entirety of the first half of his career as a hero, from the end of spring to his battle against All For One in USJ, Superman was legally a vigilante. He wouldn't receive a Hero License from Star and Stripe until after All For One's defeat. Even before then, the government didn't stop him. The world didn't stop him. Cathleen didn't stop him as well, even as she trained him. She even applauded him for it.

And yet, she heard that the Commission were against the vigilantes of Naruhata a while back, including the Spider-Men, despite the fact that they let Superman's clear acts of vigilantism slide, like his intervention in the raid of I-Island and the subsequent battle against All For One in USJ. Technically, Superman had acted as a vigilante on both occasions.

Why was the double standards?

Aside from Superman's acts of vigilantism, there were news clippings of what he had done as a Pro Hero. Saving the kid on the rooftop was technically his first act as a Pro Hero.

Kara walked from picture to picture, her fingers trailing lightly over the glass.

"He was loved," Kara whispered in halting English, voice trembling. "And he had loved."

"More than anything," Martha said gently, standing beside her. "He gave the world hope. Just like you can."

Kara looked at everything. His childhood photos. His achievements.

But seeing the photos of him with his family, which are his mother, his mentor, and his love... was different for Kara Zor-El.

They were memories of a life that had been loved.

It caused Kara to realize one painful truth.

"I missed..." Kara's voice broke.

"I know." Missing Clark was something Cathleen could understand. "I understand, Kara."

But Kara wasn't talking about missing him. But... missing everything about him.

"No. I missed... everything."

Looking at all the photos, all the memories, only served to show Kara just how much she had really missed. She missed Kal-El's life. Not just one part of his life, and not just a few years of his life, but... his entire life. She had missed everything.

When she saw his rocket flying alongside hers, part of her felt that she would be next to him. Help him grow into the brave and kind man she had always known he would become.

Instead, she missed it. She missed everything. 25 years of life and love... gone in a blink of an eye.

Kara broke once again. She was on her knees before all the frozen memories.

She wished things would be different. If only her rocket wasn't thrown off course, things would've been different. She would've been able to see him grow. And she would've grown alongside him.

For Kara Zor-El, that was the most painful truth.

"My sweet child, life is for living. Not for moping," Martha whispered to her, kneeling to her ear.

"She's right, Kara. When you are knocked down, by grief or anything else, you have no choice but to get back up," Cathleen decided to say the exact words Kara needed to hear. "And you know I'll always help you up if you let me. But sometimes, you have to learn to get back up on your own. Like I said, you can start by putting one foot in front of the other, and make the best choices you can."

Cathleen's words had echoed her first words of comfort to Kara, when she crashed on this planet for the first time.

After a few moments, Kara finally got back up on her feet and wiped the last of her tears away.

That's when they both learned that even the simplest of actions could make one proud.

"I'm so proud of you, Kara," Cathleen whispered.

The three women then spent the evening together, sitting at the kitchen table over slices of homemade pie. Martha told stories about Clark's childhood, about how he once accidentally lifted a tractor as a toddler, or how he cried the first time he realized he couldn't save a baby bird fallen from a tree.

Kara listened intently, hanging onto every word. Each story built a bridge between her memories of a baby in a rocket and the hero the world had known.

And as the sun dipped low and the flakes of snow flew over the Kansas sky, Kara realized something deep and unshakable:

Kal-El's spirit hadn't died with him.

It lived on. In the people he loved. The people he inspired.

And maybe, just maybe, it could live on in her too.

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

Later that evening, when the dishes were cleared and the house was quiet, Cathleen and Kara sat on the old farmhouse porch, rocking slowly in worn wooden chairs in their coats. Watching the snow fall onto the ground.

The stars stretched endlessly overhead, more than Kara had ever seen from Krypton's surface, where their red sun dulled the night.

Cathleen leaned back, watching Kara watch the sky.

"You know," Cathleen began softly, "about a year ago, after Clark became a Pro Hero after All For One's defeat, and after he saved the boy on the rooftop, he spoke to me. About what he decided to fight for."

Kara turned to her, curious.

"He fought for truth," Cathleen said, holding up one finger. "Because truth matters. Without it, people lose their way. Lies tear the world apart."

Kara nodded slowly, her mind working to understand every word.

Cathleen lifted a second finger. "Justice. Because no one, not the strong, not the powerful, not the rich, should be above doing the right thing. Everyone deserves fairness, no matter who they are."

Kara's brow furrowed a little, the gravity of it settling on her heart.

"And finally," Cathleen raised a third finger, smiling gently, "the American way."

Kara blinked, confused. "What is... American way?"

Cathleen chuckled, a soft, fond sound. "It's not just about a country. It's about an idea. That people should be free. That they should help each other. That everyone has the right to try to be better, no matter where they come from. Whether it's another country... or even another planet."

In the world of Quirks, Superman had been a different kind of hero, even compared to other Pro Heroes.

Quirks changed the fabric of society. Powers were common. And they were almost expected in everyone. Strength, flight, lasers, teleportation. You could find someone with any of these abilities walking down the street. Heroes were licensed. Ranked. Sometimes even treated like celebrities.

But Superman was something different.

He wasn't a celebrity. He wasn't a government weapon. He didn't care about ranking first, or sponsorships, or fame.

Cathleen remembered Clark's exact words during the press conference in that summer, when she told the world she's taking him under her wing:

"I've always believed that with great power comes an even greater responsibility to do what's right. And I've always wanted to help in any way I can. But she's right. I still have a lot to learn. I'm ready to prove that I can earn my place among the great heroes of the world."

And she remembered his answer to a reporter who asked him as to why he needed a license:

"Because it's the right thing to do. No matter how powerful you are, you have to respect the law. Heroes need to be accountable, not just to the people they save, but to society as a whole. And I want to earn that responsibility the right way."

That was summer, which was... about a year before he died this July.

But after that same year's winter, after All For One's arrest, and after the boy, especially after the boy... Superman grew. Superman had begun to assume an active role in the Hero Society he became a part of since he received the Hero License from Star and Stripe.

Since then, Superman had grown into a Symbol of Hope to the world. Of course, Superman would grow and learn over time, just like any other hero in this world. Despite that, however, the underlying heart of a hero in him remained unchanged.

Throughout the months after his first act in his career as a Pro Hero, up until his untimely death in the end of July this year, during the Day of Doom in Tokyo, Superman had fought for three ideals, ideals bigger than any one nation, bigger than any Quirk.

Truth, Justice, and the American Way.

As for truth, Superman always sought the real story. In a world where propaganda, misinformation, and fear about Quirks could tear societies apart, Superman stood as a reminder that truth matters. He exposed corrupt officials who exploited Quirkless citizens. He uncovered hidden abuses by hero agencies that used fame to mask cruelty. He defended those who had no voice, no matter how inconvenient or dangerous it was. As Clark Kent, he used his journalism to do the same.

As for justice, in a world where the strong could dominate the weak, Superman never allowed might to make right. He stood up for Quirkless people who were bullied and marginalized. He protected people whose Quirks were seen as "dangerous" or "ugly." He reminded society that justice wasn't about punishing the powerful and the guilty. It was about protecting the vulnerable and the innocent. He helped started a reform on how villains were treated. Not just locking them away but offering true rehabilitation for those who wanted redemption. The change had been slow, and sadly, it was far from complete before he died, but... it was a start.

And as for the American Way...

At first, this phrase confused many in other nations, even as Superman inspired them, just like any other Pro Hero. But Superman didn't mean "America" as a country. He meant the idea of America. The dream that anyone, no matter where they were born or what power they had or didn't have, could have dignity, freedom, and a chance to be better. He fought for a better tomorrow for everyone, because everyone in this world shares the same tomorrow.

That was the idea of America that had allowed the nation to let a young man from Japan named Toshinori Yagi to come to U.S. soil and begin his meteoric rise as the Symbol of Peace in that country. The nation had welcomed the young Japanese student to their country, taught him everything he needed to learn as a hero, and allowed him to make new friends among them, which included a young David Shield.

And that was the idea of America Star and Stripe fought for, both inside and outside the U.S. military. Superman had taken after them both in that regard.

In short: Superman fought not to be the strongest hero. He fought to be the hero who made others believe they could be better. Who made others look up to the skies and see hope. Superman represented hope for everyone. A beacon of the better angels of human nature.

Even in a world overflowing with flashy powers, Superman's greatest strength was always his heart. His instinctive knowledge of right and wrong. It was a gift of his own humanity. Clark knew he was doing the right thing when he decided to be the champion of the oppressed. And when he saved lives, no matter who they were, where they came from, or what powers they had.

In any situation, in any crisis, Superman had always known the right thing to do. He would always do the right thing. Saving lives, no matter who they were. That was his greatest strength, and, once again, that strength stemmed from his humanity. He may have come from the skies, but he was human, just like any other human on Earth.

He was both Kal-El of Krypton, son of Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van, and Clark Kent, son of Jonathan and Martha Kent.

And his humanity was the reason why he chose to lay down his life for this world and everyone in it in his final fight against Doomsday. Just because... it was the right thing to do.

Kara looked down at her hands. Her own strength. The hands that had once only cradled Kal-El as a baby... now had the power to shake the world itself. To fight for something bigger than herself. With her loving mentor by her side.

Freedom. Justice. Truth. They were big words. Heavy words. But they had meaning. They had weight. And Clark had carried them with him. Not because he was forced to, but because he chose to.

Kara swallowed hard, blinking back the stinging in her eyes.

"Clark... Kal-El... he... he chose to do good," she said, her English still a bit rough but full of feeling.

Cathleen nodded. "Every single day. Even when it was hard. Especially when it was hard."

Kara looked back up at the stars, her heart full.

Maybe she couldn't go home. Maybe she couldn't undo all the pain and loss she had endured.

But here, now, she had something new to fight for. Something Kal had believed in. And now, it's something she could believe in, too.

Slowly, Kara placed a hand over the symbol on her heart and whispered, more to herself than anyone else:

"I will make him proud."

Cathleen smiled quietly beside her, saying nothing.

She didn't need to. She knew Kara already had.

By making the best choices she can. To keep moving forward.

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

The trip to Arlington was quiet. The two blonde heroines flew together in the cold weather. They both wear coats over their casual outfits.

To Kara, the cityscapes, the forests, the roads, they were so much like Krypton in some ways, and yet... painfully alien.

Cathleen helped Kara navigate throughout the flight, seeing that she's the one who knew where she's going.

When they landed on the ground, it was early afternoon. The sun casted long, golden rays across the endless sea of white headstones. Soldiers. Heroes. Legends. All resting side by side.

But it was the simple black marble gravestone, which stood out among all the rest, that caught Kara's breath in her throat.

Cathleen walked with her to it without a word.

The black marble gravestone stood solitary among the white, absorbing the light instead of reflecting it. No name. No dates of birth nor date of death. No grand epitaph.

Only a single emblem was carved into the stone. It was clean, bold, and proud:

The crest of the House of El. The symbol of hope.

Kara stepped forward on unsteady feet. Her hand hovered over the stone, trembling, before finally making contact.

It was cold under her fingertips.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

But then, memories flooded her mind. The memories of Krypton, still fresh in her heart though the planet had been lost to the stars for decades.

On Krypton, the House of El was revered not just for its scientific contributions, but for its ideals. Every child of a noble House had to earn their right to bear the family crest. It wasn't simply given by blood. It was a covenant. A symbol of who they were... and who they chose to be.

Kara remembered standing before the tribunal, heart hammering, as she recited the Codes of El. Courage. Compassion. Honor. Hope. She remembered the pride in Alura's eyes, the firm nod from Zor-El. Her uncle and aunt, Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van, were there.

She had just passed the Trials earlier that day. She had earned the symbol. The family crest. On Krypton, there was little to no greater honor than that.

Afterward, still buzzing with excitement, she had quickly rushed home and scooped up baby Kal, spinning him in the air. "I did it! I did it, Kal! I passed!"

Kal was laughing triumphantly alongside her, despite clearly not knowing what it's all about. What the baby knew was that his cousin was happy.

And when she was happy... so was he.

"You'll do it too, little star," she had whispered to the baby in her arms. "You'll be worthy of the family crest. I know you will."

At the time, it felt like a lifetime away.

But here she was, standing before the proof that Kal-El had been worthy. That the tiny boy she loved had grown into a man who had carried the crest not just on his chest, but in his heart. A man who had lived its meaning so fully that he had become hope for an entire world.

Her knees gave out, and she knelt before the grave, head bowed low, tears falling freely.

"He did it," she whispered in her native tongue. Her fingers traced the edges of the emblem, as if willing herself to feel some part of him still lingering there. "Kal... you did it, my little star..."

She kissed the gravestone, just like how she would kiss the baby goodnight.

The wind stirred around them, gentle, carrying the soft rustle of trees. Kara could almost imagine his voice in that breeze. It was warm, kind, and steady.

Cathleen stood silently behind her, giving her the space she needed.

After a long while, Kara rose, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She turned to Cathleen, her voice hoarse but steady. "He's the start of my hope."

"And I know you'll be hope, Kara."

Kara looked back at the grave one last time. The sun caught the crest, making it gleam.

In that moment, something shifted inside her as a quiet resolve hardened into place.

Kal had been worthy of the symbol in this world. And through him, the entire world knew that their family crest was a symbol of hope.

And now, it was her turn.

Little did she know that her turn was coming closer than she thought.

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

The call came just after midnight.

Cathleen's old communicator crackled to life. It was a special line once reserved for emergencies. She grabbed it from the porch table, her instincts flaring to life.

A voice barked through the static:

"...chemical truck overturned on Route 54... hazardous spill... civilians trapped... need immediate assistance!"

Cathleen's eyes flicked to Kara, who was already standing, tense and alert.

Without hesitation, Cathleen got into her star-spangled hero costume, and Kara, still in her Kryptonian outfit, the one she came to Earth with, hovered uncertainly beside her.

"Kara," Cathleen said quickly, meeting her eyes, "this is real. It's dangerous. You don't have to come if you're not ready."

But Kara stepped forward without flinching. "I am ready," she said, her voice steady.

Cathleen smiled proudly. "Then let's go."

The scene on Route 54 was chaos.

A massive tanker lay on its side, leaking thick, smoking chemicals into a ditch by the road. Several cars were crumpled in a wreck nearby, pinned under fallen streetlights and debris. Firefighters struggled to contain small fires breaking out along the asphalt, but they couldn't get close enough without risking their lives.

And trapped inside one of the cars was a mother and her young son, pounding helplessly on the window.

Kara hovered in the air for a moment, stunned by the sheer wrongness of it all. The pain. The fear.

With her eyes, she could see a boy stuck with his mother. With her ears, she could hear him crying.

Cathleen hovered beside her. "Focus. One thing at a time," she coached firmly. "You're strong enough. Just be careful."

Kara took a deep breath, steeling herself.

She flew down in a blur.

The crowd gasped as they saw her, a flash of red and blue. Firefighters shouted for everyone to clear back, but Kara had already reached the crushed car.

Her hands slipped under the twisted metal. Her grip was careful, so careful. She could feel how fragile the vehicle was, how easily her strength could hurt instead of help.

Gritting her teeth, Kara lifted the car carefully. She wasn't ripping or tearing the car or planning on tossing it to who knows where. No. She was lifting the crumpled frame of the car to allow the boy and his mother to get out of there.

Kara then smiled in relief as she saw them. They were both alright.

The boy then looked up at Kara with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"Are you... an angel?" he whispered.

Kara blinked, stunned. But her smile remained unchanged.

From the boy's perspective, it seemed like she was an angel. A young girl with flowing golden hair and bright blue eyes, surrounded by the orange glow of flames. And yet, her undeniable radiance shone brighter than the fire around her. The sight of her lifting the car over her head gave her the aura of a mythical being.

And she was happy to see the boy and his mother alive. She smiled at them.

Cathleen then shouted, "Kara! The tanker!"

Her shout snapped Kara back to reality.

Behind her, the chemical fire crackled louder. The tanker creaked ominously, about to rupture.

Kara put the car she had lifted back to the ground and flew faster than she ever had before. She then grabbed the ruptured tanker by its undercarriage and lifted it straight into the air. The heat would have scorched her if it wasn't for her invulnerability as a Kryptonian. She kept pushing, flying the tanker higher up until she could safely hurl it into the sky, far from everyone else.

With a cry, she tossed the tanker upwards.

The tanker exploded in a massive fireball, lighting up the sky.

The people below cheered.

When Kara landed again, her face was soot-streaked and her clothes were slightly scorched. Cathleen ran up to her, laughing breathlessly.

"You did it!" she cried.

Kara looked around, at the rescued mother clutching her boy, at the firefighters nodding in stunned gratitude, at the faces full of awe and hope.

For the first time since crashing to this strange world, Kara felt it:

She had made a difference. She had saved lives. Not because she was Kryptonian. Not because she was strong. But because she chose to.

And deep down she knew, it was the right thing to do. She believed that saving lives was always the right thing to do. Just like Kal-El once did.

Cathleen clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Welcome to the real hero world, kid."

And as the crowd pressed closer, cheering and calling out thanks, Kara smiled, tired but proud.

Somewhere, somehow, she knew Kal-El would be smiling too.

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

A few days later, the world was buzzing.

Video clips of the mysterious girl lifting a chemical tanker into the sky were everywhere. It was on news broadcasts, social media, even the late-night talk shows. Keen-eyed people online had seen the symbol pinned over her heart, too. The same one that had been emblazoned across Superman's cape and over his chest.

The world was asking one question: Who is she?

Cathleen knew they couldn't hide forever.

They had to do it right. On their own terms.

So she made the calls. Arranged the permits. Set up the press conference on the steps of the United Nations building in New York. She wanted Kara's first official appearance to be a symbol of unity, not division.

Kara, meanwhile, had been doing something extraordinary, even by Kryptonian standards.

Using her super-speed and nearly limitless mental capacity under Earth's yellow sun, she had devoured textbooks and dictionaries. Every spare moment between training sessions, she read entire books in seconds. English, history, politics, culture.

At first, the words had been confusing. Alien. Strange. But Kara had pushed through, determined to speak for herself. Not through Kelex. Not through Cathleen. But in her own voice.

The day of the press conference was both bright and cool. Flags from every nation flapped in the breeze behind the podium.

Cathleen stood at the microphone first, wearing the hero costume Star and Stripe. She scanned the sea of cameras, flashing lights, and skeptical faces.

"Months ago, this world," she began, voice steady, "lost a hero. A beacon of hope."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Everyone knew who she meant.

"But today," Cathleen continued, stepping aside, "I'm proud to introduce someone who is ready to carry that hope forward."

The cameras clicked wildly as Kara stepped forward.

She was still wearing her clothes. The one she came to Earth with. Blue shirt. Red trousers. Both looked visibly Kryptonian. The emblem of the House of El was still pinned over her heart.

Kara gripped the podium tightly at first, nerves fluttering through her stomach. But she took a deep breath, remembering Cathleen's training, Martha Kent's stories, and Clark's example.

She spoke slowly, carefully, but clearly.

"My name is Kara Zor-El," she said, her voice firm yet warm, echoing across nations. "I was born on the planet Krypton. I am the daughter of Zor-El and Alura In-Ze... and cousin to Kal-El."

Her voice was accented but strong.

"I came to Earth not long ago, just like Kal-El. He grew up here. He became your hero. Your protector. Your Superman."

The crowd hushed, hanging on every word.

"I was sent to protect him. But... something happened. I was lost. Alone. For many, many years."

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. Kara then turned to look at the woman who had been there, by her side, from the very beginning, ever since Kara came to this world. It gave her strength to continue.

"But... good people find me. They help me. They teach me."

She looked directly into the cameras, her gaze fierce and proud. Just like how she was proud of what she had done on the bridge.

She knew, since Krypton, that saving lives would always be a never-ending battle, but it was something Kara Zor-El wanted to fight for.

She would keep fighting the noblest of fights. And she knew, deep down, that there was no fight nobler than the fight to save lives.

"I know now why Kal-El choose to be Superman. Why he gave his life to save this world. He believed in truth. In justice. In freedom. And... I believe too."

Kara placed a hand over the House of El symbol over her heart.

"I am the last daughter of Krypton." Another pause. She swallowed. "I wish I wasn't the last. But I carry my family's legacy with me. Not as a burden, but as a promise. A promise to protect, to uplift, and to stand with this world as one of its heroes."

A hero. With the symbol visible on her pin, the people watching her thought that picking the proper Hero name would be a no-brainer for her.

"I'm not here to replace Kal-El. I know that no one can. But I am here to honor him. To continue what he started. To fight for what he believed in, not just with strength, but with compassion. With hope."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

And then, the applause erupted.

They weren't polite nor forced. But they were real.

Cathleen stepped beside Kara, smiling proudly, and whispered, "You did it, kid."

Kara smiled back, a little shyly, but inside her heart soared.

She wasn't just Kal-El's cousin anymore. She wasn't just the last daughter of Krypton.

She was her own hero now. And the world would remember her name.

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

After the press conference, as the crowd slowly dispersed and reporters shouted questions they didn't answer, Cathleen and Kara walked together along a quiet path behind the United Nations Plaza.

The adrenaline was wearing off. Kara felt lighter... but also uncertain.

She gazed up at the sky, the same way she used to look up at Krypton's red sun. Her voice was soft, thoughtful.

"Cathleen," she said, "you told me Kal-El fought for truth... justice... and the American way."

Cathleen smiled a little, proud and nostalgic. "Yeah. He did. Every day."

Kara stopped walking and turned to face her, standing tall.

"I... I think I fight too," she said, struggling a little for the right words in English. "But... different."

Cathleen tilted her head. "How so?"

Kara placed her hand over her heart, over the symbol of El.

"I will fight," she said firmly. "For Hope, Help, and Compassion for All."

Cathleen felt something stir deep in her chest. A bittersweet mixture of pride and heartbreak.

Superman had inspired the world with his strength, his ideals, his unshakable sense of right and wrong.

Kara... Kara was something just as powerful. Maybe even more so.

She had a potential to be more than just a protector. But a healer.

A symbol not of dominance, not just of justice, but of kindness.

Cathleen reached out, resting a hand on Kara's shoulder.

"Just like you said, you're not replacing him, Kara," she said gently. "You're honoring him. And becoming something all your own."

Kara smiled softly, a little sad but full of hope.

"I want to," she said. "For Kal. For Krypton. For Earth. For everyone that needs saving."

The two of them stood there for a moment, the breeze blowing Kara's hair, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows behind them.

And for the first time in a long, long while... the world felt just a little brighter.

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

Later that night, Cathleen and Kara sat on the Kent farmhouse porch, overlooking the wide Kansas fields under a sky glittering with stars.

Cathleen rocked slowly in an old wooden chair, sipping tea, while Kara sat cross-legged on the steps, hugging her knees to her chest. She stared up at the night sky, thinking of Krypton, of the stars that once looked so different.

Cathleen broke the quiet first.

"You know," she said softly, "this world... it needs symbols."

Kara turned her head slightly, curious.

"After Clark, after All Might retired... there's been this... emptiness," Cathleen continued. "People lost someone they believed in. Someone they thought would always be there."

She paused, then smiled gently at Kara. "And today, you gave them that again."

Kara looked down, uncertain. "I am not Kal-El," she said quietly. "I am not All Might."

Cathleen chuckled. "No, you're not. You're Kara Zor-El. That's exactly who the world needs."

She leaned forward, her voice full of warmth. "Kal-El was the Symbol of Hope. All Might was the Symbol of Peace."

Cathleen looked at Kara meaningfully. "And you, Kara... you're hope, too. A different kind. Maybe even a stronger kind."

Kara's hands tightened on her knees. "Hope... not because of strength," she whispered. "But... because I care."

Cathleen nodded. "Exactly."

Kara stared out at the open fields again, a soft smile growing on her face.

It wasn't just about power. It never was.

It was about lifting people up when they had fallen. About being a hand reaching out into the darkness. About believing in others, even when they didn't believe in themselves.

It was about compassion.

Saving lives. That's the most important thing.

And she could do that. She wanted to do that.

Somewhere, she imagined Kal-El smiling down on her, proud.

And somewhere across the seas, in a land of Quirks and heroes and new beginnings, Kara Zor-El, the new Symbol of Hope, was ready to shine.

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

It was a bright, clear afternoon when Cathleen brought Kara to the Hero Registry Office.

The building was a massive glass structure, one of the few government places that still felt welcoming rather than oppressive. Heroes, students, and officials moved in and out, registering new names, updates, licenses.

Kara wore a simple blue jacket over her House of El uniform, nervous but determined.

Cathleen handed her the registration form. "You don't have to decide today," she said gently. "We can take our time."

Kara shook her head.

"I know what name," she said, her English now much smoother, almost fluent after days of super-speed studying.

Cathleen smiled warmly. "Alright. Let's hear it."

Kara looked down at the form. Her heart beats faster.

She thought about Kal-El. About Krypton. About Clark Kent. About All Might. About everyone who stood for something greater than themselves.

She picked up the pen and wrote, in steady, careful handwriting:

Hero Name: Supergirl.

She looked up at Cathleen, a small but steady smile on her face.

"I know... I am not Kal-El," she said. "Not Superman."

She placed a hand over the symbol on her chest.

"But I carry his hope. And I will grow."

She stood straighter, confidence in her voice.

"I am Supergirl."

Cathleen swallowed the lump in her throat, pride shining in her eyes.

"You're going to do just fine, kid."

They filed the paperwork.

And just like that, a new symbol officially entered a world desperate for hope.

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

A few days after Kara officially chose her Hero Name, Cathleen handed her a simple brown package when they returned to the Kent farmhouse. Martha had gone to the town to grab a few things, leaving only the two heroines in the house.

"This is for you," Cathleen said, smiling knowingly. "From someone who's very proud of you."

Kara gently opened the package. Inside was a folded suit. It was hand-stitched, carefully crafted.

The familiar colors of blue, red, and yellow gleamed under the light, but it was different from Kal-El's. It was lighter, brighter. Youthful, but strong.

The "S" symbol of the House of El was emblazoned proudly on the chest, stitched with loving hands. As the symbol's design was based on the symbol on Kara's pin, it was Zor-El's symbol instead of Jor-El's, who had become Kal-El's. It was fitting, as Zor-El was the younger of the two brothers, just like how her costume was much more youthful than Kal-El's. And her father's symbol was her symbol now.

Kara found a small handwritten note tucked inside. She picked it up, heart already aching.

It read:

"Dear Kara,

Clark was my boy, but you're my girl too now. I stitched this suit for you, the same way I stitched Clark's first cape. He was my Superman. But you, Kara... You are my Supergirl.

And I know you will accomplish wonders. Just like Clark.

Wherever you go, both in this world and in this life, you must know one thing...

You will always have a home to return to. You will always have a family to run back to. And you will always have a future to look forward to. With the three of us. Cathleen, Makoto, and me.

I wish the best of luck in your future endeavors. And I know you will always do the right thing.

With all my love, Martha Kent."

Tears welled up in Kara's eyes. She clutched the letter to her chest, overwhelmed with emotion.

She had lost a planet. She had lost her family. She had lost the little boy she once knew as Kal-El. She had lost her time with him.

But here, across time, across stars, someone had given her something precious: A home. A family. A future.

Slowly, she unfolded the suit, letting it billow in her hands like a banner of hope.

Cathleen smiled quietly at the sight, saying nothing, knowing that this was one of those rare, sacred moments that needed no words.

Kara turned toward the fields, where the golden Kansas sunset stretched endlessly into the horizon.

And there, in the farmhouse where another symbol of hope had once grown strong, Supergirl was truly born.

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

The farmhouse was quiet as the fall of night was getting closer.

The golden light of the setting sun gave everything it shone on a warm, almost heavenly glow, all against a backdrop of white, thanks to the snowfall.

Kara stood in her new suit by the porch, the note from Martha still clutched in her hand.

Cathleen gave her space, sitting quietly on the steps, simply watching.

This wasn't just about a costume. This was about Kara claiming her place, her hope, and her future.

Kara then sat on the porch stairs to put on her red boots. It fit perfectly, as if Martha had sewn it with a mother's intuition.

As she stood back up, the red cape flowed behind her, the fabric catching the light breeze like a flag.

She stepped out into the open field, her red boots brushing through the snowy ground. Her heart hammered in her chest. Not with fear, but with something fiercer. Something deeper.

She was no longer just Kara Zor-El of Krypton.

She was truly Supergirl now, with the cape, symbol, and all.

Kara took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of Earth's yellow sun soaking into her skin. She closed her eyes, focused inward, just like what Star and Stripe had taught her.

Don't force it. Just trust it.

The ground beneath her boots trembled slightly.

Then, slowly, like a leaf riding a gentle breeze, she lifted off the snow.

At first, just a few inches. Then a few feet.

Then she was soaring, arms out, cape snapping behind her, face turned toward the endless sky.

Cathleen stood and shielded her eyes, smiling so wide it hurt.

Kara spun once in the air, laughing freely, tears streaming down her cheeks.

For the first time since she left Krypton, since she lost Kal, since she woke alone in a strange world...

...she felt whole again.

Not as a ghost of the past. Not as someone living in Superman's shadow.

But as herself. As Supergirl.

And far across the white plains of snow-covered Smallville, the world had its new beacon.

A new hope soared.

After staying in the air for a few moments, Kara touched down softly in the field, the last rays of sunset painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink.

Her boots crunched lightly against the snow as she ran, faster and faster, straight toward the porch, where Cathleen stood waiting.

Without a word, Kara threw her arms around her.

Despite Cathleen's strength, she staggered slightly under the force of it, as Kara was still learning to control her strength, but she laughed and wrapped her arms around the girl without hesitation, holding her tight.

Kara pressed her face against Cathleen's shoulder, her body trembling with emotion.

"I did it," she whispered, her voice thick with tears and joy. "I really did it."

Cathleen squeezed her tighter, heart swelling with pride.

"You did more than that," she said softly. "You showed the world what it means to hope again."

They stayed like that for a long moment. A mentor and a student, a hero and a guide, standing together against the backdrop of the open sky, the fading sun, and the endless promise of tomorrow.

Kara pulled back just enough to look up at Cathleen, her blue eyes shining with certainty.

"I'll make you proud," she promised.

Cathleen smiled, brushing a lock of Kara's golden hair back behind her ear like a proud big sister. Or even like a...

A mother.

"You already have, kiddo."

And somewhere in the wind, it was almost as if the Earth itself whispered back...

Hope lives again.

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

Later that evening, after Kara had gone to bed, emotionally drained but smiling, Cathleen sat with Martha Kent on the old porch swing, two cups of warm tea between them.

The stars above Smallville shone clear and bright, and the fields swayed gently in the breeze. It was quiet, peaceful. The kind of night Clark always loved.

Cathleen sipped her tea slowly before finally breaking the silence.

"I've been thinking," she said. "About Kara."

Martha glanced at her, already sensing the weight behind the words. She waited patiently.

Cathleen inhaled.

"I want to adopt her."

Martha said nothing at first. She simply looked out at the stars, letting the words settle in the air between them.

"She's strong," Cathleen continued. "Stronger than she knows. But she's also... lost. Displaced. Everyone sees the cape, the powers, the name. But I see a girl. A 16-year-old girl who had everything ripped away from her, who woke up alone in a world she doesn't understand."

Martha nodded softly. "Just like Clark once was."

Cathleen turned to her. "You raised him right, Martha. You gave him a home. A moral compass. Something to believe in. I want to do that for her."

"You already are, Cathy," Martha said with a gentle smile.

"But I want it to be real," Cathleen said. "Legal. Official. Not just 'mentor and student.' Not just some handler watching over her. I want her to know she's loved. That she has a family. A future."

Martha reached over and gently took her hand.

"Then do it," she said. "Because if there's one thing I've learned from raising a child from the stars... it's that love, not power, is what makes them truly strong."

Cathleen smiled, tears stinging her eyes. "I just hope she'll say yes."

Martha squeezed her hand. "She will. She already loves you, Cathleen. She just needs to know it's okay to be loved back."

The stars overhead twinkled softly.

And in that quiet moment, two women, who had once helped raise and train one of the world's greatest heroes, made room in their hearts for one more.

"You'll be a good mother, Cathleen, I know you will. You're a good girl."

"'Girl'?" Hearing Martha calling her by that made Cathleen chuckle a bit. "Do you know how old I am?"

Martha had let it slip. She chuckled at her little mistake. "Yes, Cathleen. We celebrated your birthday right here a few months ago." Martha gestured to the house around them. "After the fireworks show."

It's funny how the birthday of the most American heroine in the world was exactly on the Fourth of July. But Cathleen Bate was never fond of parading herself during every annual Independence Day celebration. No, she preferred something private, quiet, and personal.

"It was my last birthday with Clark. How could I forget that, Martha?" Cathleen remembered all about it.

Clark had been a comforting presence for Cathleen in her last two birthdays.

She had been 42 when she first took Superman under her wing during... that summer. During that year's Fourth of July, she was given a little surprise. After a few weeks of training... they grew close. Well, not as close as Makoto and Clark would later be, but... close enough. They were friends.

He gave her a little cake with a little candle on top and sang her the birthday song. It was the simplest of gestures, but... it gave her light.

And for this year's birthday, after this year's Fourth of July, she celebrated her birthday in the farmhouse in Smallville, with her new family. Clark, Martha, Makoto, and herself. The four of them were like a small, but happy family.

But in the last days of July, just a few weeks after her birthday this year... the Day of Doom happened. Doomsday happened.

He died. He was gone. But he was never gone, wasn't he? His strength lives on. His love lives on. In their little, but happy, family.

And she had told Superman about the sacrifices she'd made, how her career had taken precedence over everything else. How she had never married and never had children, because the life of a hero, especially as the greatest heroine in the world, didn't leave room for those kinds of relationships. There was a wistfulness in her voice when she spoke of what could have been, but she quickly brushed it off, refocusing on the importance of the task at hand. Be a hero.

And she loved being a hero. To save people and restore the smiles on their faces. Just like her idol, All Might.

But after meeting Clark and Martha, she was given a glimpse of what family was like. It had been... over a year ago now. Her desire to have that kind of bond grew.

But she hadn't found the right man. Which was... completely understandable, as everyone on Earth knew who she is. Just like All Might, who wasn't married, which was also because of his focus and commitment on being a hero.

And her brothers in arms? She couldn't see them as anything else but her brothers in arms. Plus, most of them were married already. Including Ethan Drive, the leader of her Bravo Squadron.

Superman had a relationship with Makoto Tsukauchi because his Clark Kent persona allowed him to separate his public and personal lives, aside from allowing him, an all-powerful alien, to walk among mortals, befitting his humble nature.

And their relationship was, well... as healthy as a relationship with such a man can be.

But for All Might and Star and Stripe? They can't. Everyone knew their lives.

Cathleen knew it was time for a change. Another change in two worlds. Both hers... and Kara Zor-El's.

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

The creak of the porch swing and the quiet murmur of voices in the night hadn't gone unnoticed by one particular girl. Kara had been lying in the guest room upstairs, listening to their conversation.

She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but her hearing... it was sharp, far sharper than any Earth-born human. Every word Cathleen spoke reached her heart like a warm current breaking through cold space.

Her feet were quiet on the wooden stairs as she descended. Neither Martha nor Cathleen noticed her until she opened the door and stepped onto the porch.

At that moment, the girl was bathed in the golden light emanating from insife the farmhouse, which poured outside through the door she had opened.

Cathleen turned, surprised.

"Kara?"

The girl stood there in her sleep shirt, the edges of her cape peeking beneath it. Her eyes were wide, a little teary, her voice soft.

"You want to adopt me?"

Cathleen froze for a moment. Then she set her tea down and stood, stepping forward, unsure.

"I... Yeah. I do. But only if... only if that's something you want too."

Kara looked at her, heart pounding in her chest. Her hands trembled slightly.

"All my life," she said quietly, "I had my parents. My world. And Kal... I had Kal." Her voice cracked on his name. "And then I had nothing. Just... silence. Until I heard your voice."

Cathleen stepped closer.

"You saved me," Kara said, "not just after the crash. You were there for me when everything felt like too much. You taught me to breathe again. To fly. After my world was gone, you became my world."

Her eyes locked with Cathleen's, shimmering with tears. "You are my world."

To both of them, there is no greater proclamation of love than those four words.

Kara was basically telling Cathleen: "You are my home. You are the one constant I have left. My existence now revolves around you because you chose to love me when I had nothing."

Cathleen wiped a few tears away. "And you are mine, Kara." She sniffled amidst her teary smiles.

Cathleen was basically telling Kara: "You are my home too. You fill the emptiness I don't know I've been carrying until I met this family. The family I never had. The child I never raised. You are now the center of my emotional universe in the same profound way."

"So, is that a yes, Kara?"

"Yes. I'd like that. I'd like to be your daughter."

Cathleen's breath hitched, and in a heartbeat, she wrapped Kara in her arms. Kara hugged her back fiercely, burying her face in Cathleen's shoulder.

Martha stood and wiped a tear from her cheek, watching them with quiet joy.

"You're our family now, sweetheart," Cathleen whispered. "Always."

And under the stars of a world far from her own, Kara Zor-El finally felt something she hadn't since Krypton:

Home.

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

The adoption of Kara Zor-El was announced by both Cathleen and Kara in yet another press conference.

It wasn't just new. It was history. The most powerful heroine of America, Star and Stripe, legally adopting the last daughter of Krypton, Supergirl. The public didn't just see it as a gesture of compassion. They saw it as a message: that Earth had claimed Kara Zor-El not just as a hero, but as family.

The world knew Supergirl now. She had no secret identity, just like her cousin, sort of. Unlike how Kal-El had a human secret identity as Clark Kent, Kara Zor-El had no human secret identity. Her surname is Bate now after her adoption, Kara Bate, but it's public knowledge. Not a secret identity.

Her name is Kara Zor-El or... Kara Bate, and her Hero Name is Supergirl. But, as for her name, most people preferred the former than the latter. Her Kryptonian name just... rolled off the tongue.

The announcement of Kara's adoption in the press conference by Star and Stripe was not just a move to make the rest of the world know about it, but to tell anyone who would try to claim Kara as their own or see the Kryptonian as anything but a girl, like... a weapon for them to use or an experiment for them to toy with, that she is not all those things. She's a girl. Supergirl.

And even if they tried to claim her, they would know that Kara's under the protection of the most powerful heroine on American soil. And the fact is, Kara wouldn't need protection, for she is on her way to becoming the most powerful heroine on the planet.

And Kara had decided where she would begin her growth. Her real growth. U.A. High School.

But still, Kara must be ready to get out of the place that had become her comfort zone for over a month. She would go out into the world, make new friends, and learn from other teachers besides her... mother.

She must be prepared. Mentally. She had done the physical part already.

And what better place to prepare than the place that had become her home?

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

The quiet of the Kent farmhouse was a rare treasure. It was still, breezy, and gently kissed by the glow of the countless stars. Kara stood there, arms folded across the edge, her cape fluttering behind her like a whisper of the past. She stared into the horizon, all while leaning on the wooden railing of the back porch, not because she was looking at anything in particular, but because there was too much behind her to turn around.

She would have to say goodbye to it soon. She would soon cross the ocean to the place that would become her new home. U.A. High School.

She heard the door to the back porch opening behind her. Followed by footsteps, light but firm.

She turned to see Makoto Tsukauchi in the doorway. Kara recognized her from the photographs. She would always be positioned by Kal-El's side. From that, Kara knew that Makoto had been close to her cousin.

Kara had met Martha and Cathleen. She had known their kindness. She had seen it firsthand. But she had yet to meet Makoto Tsukauchi in person.

"You didn't knock." That was something Kara had noticed. Makoto didn't knock the door before entering.

Makoto stepped beside her. She didn't speak at first. She stood there, arms by her sides, her white coat gently stirring in the wind.

"Martha told me not to bother knocking," Makoto smiled wistfully at the memory. "She told me... we are family now. I'm always welcome here."

"So am I. She told me so herself." Kara finally looked at her. "I know you. From the pictures. You're his...?"

"I was," Makoto answered. Her voice was composed but laced with something only someone like Kara could truly feel. It was grief wrapped in dignity. "We're the only ones who knew the truth. Cathleen, Martha, me, and now, you, Kara. He was human."

"Clark Kent," Kara said.

Makoto nodded. "The world knew Superman. But I loved Clark. The man who could see the worst in the world and still smile at it. Still believe in people. He was the most human man I ever knew. And he wasn't even born on this planet."

Kara's breath caught. Her voice, small. "Do you think... I could ever be like him? Be... human?"

Makoto turned to face her fully now, her eyes sharp, but kind.

"Kara, you already are. You survived what no one else did. You could have burned the world and everyone in it in your grief. All it takes is a little push. But you didn't. You chose to stay. You chose to help. You chose to love. That's what Clark would have done. That's what Clark did do."

The porch went quiet once more. Until Kara broke the silence by asking one question that she hadn't exactly thought of until that moment. She knew she should've asked Cathleen or Martha about this, but they weren't here now. And she could feel the trust between Clark and Makoto.

"Makoto, did he... know about me?" She asked. She just remembered to ask.

"He knew. Kara, he knew what you meant to him. He only knew you through his parents' recordings in his rocket, but it was more than enough. He knew you were his cousin. And he knew you loved him."

Kara smiled as she started to tear up. Kal-El had known her. "How do you know?"

"Clark told me. There's no secret between us. In our family. One of his parents' recordings told him his uncle and aunt, your father and mother, were planning on sending you with him. Telling him... he wouldn't be alone."

Kara's breath hitched.

"But... because you didn't arrive with him, he thought you were dead. He grieved for you, just like how he had grieved his parents."

In a way, both Kara and Kal-El went through the same pain. He had wished to know more about Krypton, the same way how she wished to know more about him.

"But I know... if he was here right now... if he was still here right now... he'd recognize you instantly from your hair and looks. He would probably fly straight to you."

Kara gave Makoto a... look after hearing the words, wondering if she heard it right.

Makoto quickly tried to correct what she said. "I mean... he wouldn't crash into you. That's not like Clark. He was careful. He's not..."

Kara and Makoto laughed together. The former for imagining her cousin doing such a thing and making a mess, because she had previously pictured him as the strong and compassionate hero, not focusing on the goof he once was. And the latter for her own poor choice of words.

"What I'm saying is that, he'll land right in front of you, probably give you one of his big bear hugs and welcome you home. That was Clark. He'll treat you like family straight away."

As Makoto knew Clark inside and out, she was able to elaborate further.

"He would probably bombard you with many questions of Krypton. He would want to know more about his home. And... he would lend his shoulder for you to cry on. He would then apologize for asking you all those questions after... losing everything. He would..."

Kara teared up, but, for the first time, Kara's tears were not of pain. They were of comfort and joy. She was smiling. Chuckling softly. She could picture everything just from Makoto's words to her.

She could imagine it now. She now knew that was her cousin all over.

Despite Makoto's close relationship with Clark, she didn't tear up. She just sported a melancholic look on her face.

Makoto was an investigator. She knew what would happen if the two cousins meet. She just knew.

Makoto then touched Kara and gave her a hug. "Are you okay?"

"No."

Makoto used her Polygraph Quirk. Kara told her the truth.

Makoto knew there's no moving on from loss. And Kara had been through many losses. Her home. Her friends. Her family. Everything she had ever known.

She just knew there's no moving on from that. But she knew Kara could keep moving forward. And she should. One step at a time. There was no better choice than that.

Makoto knew Cathleen and Martha had helped her stand and guide her to the steps. All that was left for Kara was to... stay the course.

She only hoped that the family she was now a part of was enough to provide her with the strength to get on with it.

But... she wasn't worried. At least, not so much. Makoto knew Kara would find friends, supportive friends, in U.A. High School.

She also needed friends. To be around heroes her age. Her family was her world, but Makoto knew she needed to go out into the... larger, messier world. To make friends. To be a hero.