Supergirl: Strange New World (DC Comics)

[Gowonzu]

Kara Zor-El was meant to arrive on Earth as a protector, a guide to her baby cousin Kal-El. Instead, a cosmic accident left her stranded in stasis, delaying her arrival by decades. Now, she's here, on an alien planet where her cousin has already grown into the world's greatest hero, where everything from the language to the culture feels impossibly foreign, and where she, a trained scientist of Krypton, is expected to follow in her cousin's footsteps and protect the planet.

This is a story that follows Kara's journey as she navigates the chaos of human society, struggling with idioms that make no sense, bizarre social customs, and the ever-present confusion of being an alien on Earth.

 

[Gowonzu]

The air still smelled of burning rubber and spilled gasoline. Flashing red and blue lights painted the city streets as paramedics tended to shaken survivors. What should have been a devastating crash, a pile-up involving a jackknifed truck and three cars, had miraculously ended with zero fatalities.

Because of her.

The young woman in blue and red stood awkwardly at the edge of the scene, shifting on her feet as people stole glances her way. Whispers spread through the small crowd.

"Did you see her lift that truck?"
"She's got the Superman symbol!"
"Is she his sister? His daughter?"
"Supergirl…"

Kara Zor-El ignored them, eyes downcast as she fiddled with the sleeves of her suit. It was the same outfit she had worn the day she arrived on Earth, the last parting gift from her father and a relic of her lost homeworld. It was made specifically for her, fit to her measurements, dyed in the colours of her family and adorned with the symbol of her Kryptonian House.

Back home, she would've worn it with pride. Did wear it with pride. It was customary for all citizens to wear the colours of their houses. But here, on Earth, it served as a reminder of just how alien she was.

The culture was different. The fashion was different. People on earth didn't dress as brightly, most of them anyway. The designs were more varied, less tailored to the wearer, and interchangeable. It felt like humans could own a hundred different outfits without repeating a single one. Yet at the same time, there were unspoken rules for how you were supposed to dress.

No one wore capes. That was reserved for the meta-human class apparently and it made Kara stick out before she even learned to fly. And while the cape caught her some odd looks, it didn't seem to break any social taboos. Unlike her unitard...

The suit left the majority of her thighs exposed. Kara had never considered her outfit as risqué in any sense of the word, it was the style worn by every member of the Science Guild. All genders in the guild wore this style of suit. But here on Earth, it was yet another cultural taboo.

It confused her to no end. Humans wore similar attire when swimming, yet when worn on land seemed to provoke a negative reaction from most. It also seemed to be considered as an effeminate attire, but seeing as she was a woman, there shouldn't be a problem, right?

Yet here she was. Feeling self-conscious in an outfit that had once been so normal for her.

However, the biggest cultural difference when it came to wearing her Kryptonian suit, wasn't the colour, the cape or the lack of conformity to human fashion. No, the biggest taboo was the symbol of her family.

On Krypton, the House of El was a respected and honoured family. But also one of many respected and honoured families. People in certain circles occasionally treated her with undue respect simply because of her family name, the rest of the population simply thought of her family as a group of respectable scientists, nothing more.

Here on Earth though, her house had a far different reputation.

The people looked at Kara with awe, wonder and hope in their eyes. They stared at her like she was the living embodiment of Rao himself. Bestowing her with a name and a title, that she didn't want or feel worthy of.

Supergirl.

She'd only been on Earth for a handful of weeks and had done little more than fly around some cities with her cousin. This was the first time she'd had to put her powers to good use. And, if she was being honest, she was a bit scared.

It had all happened so fast. Kal was giving her another joint language and flying lesson when his communication device beeped. Something about a league emergency. He apologised and took off in the blink of an eye, leaving her to find a way back to Smallville. However, Kara got lost.

She was still learning the layout of the planet and where each continent was located. She'd managed to work out where America was, and after a brief flight across the coastline, found her way to Metropolis. From there, she knew the direction back and would've gotten back to the farm safely had a truck not veered off the road of a very busy highway.

Without a second thought, she'd reacted. Using the powers that were still as foreign to her as they were to the humans she'd saved. Perhaps more so, considering the city.

Now, here she was, standing at the edge of the scene, unsure what to do with herself.

It wasn't her first time in the city, she'd watched Kal help several people here. But it was her first time being here alone and on the ground. People kept staring at her, taking pictures with their communicators and whispering. She felt completely out of place.

She hadn't wanted to talk to anyone. Not yet. She was still trying to get the hang of speaking English. Her Kryptonian accent was thick and she had noticed that people often found it difficult to understand her. The humans in Smallville were polite and patient enough, especially the Kents, who were doing everything they could to help her adjust. But here, in a big city, and after her first rescue, she felt overwhelmed.

The people she saved offered their thanks. Some of them spoke too fast for her to understand. Then came the authorities, who attempted to question her about the incident. The man who first approached her started asking her questions, but his accent was odd compared to those she had encountered in Smallville and he kept using words she didn't understand.

It took some time to realise they were asking her to turn the truck over and open up traffic. Something Kara felt stupid for not realising sooner. She was grateful when the authority man gave her a thumbs up, a gesture that coincidentally meant the same thing back on Krypton.

Kara was also grateful that the authorities kept the local populace back. It was difficult enough to make herself understood. The thought of trying to answer the barrage of questions people had about her was overwhelming.

That didn't appear to stop one woman from approaching. Kara was unsure if the woman worked with the authorities or not, she wasn't wearing a uniform. She moved with sharp confidence, pressing forward like she belonged anywhere she set foot and didn't seem the type to take no for an answer.

"Hey there," The woman greeted smoothly, flashing a laminated badge that Kara couldn't read. "Lois Lane, Daily Planet."

Kara straightened at the name. Kal had mentioned her. Kal lived a human life, with a human name. And most other humans didn't know about his alter-ego. Kara didn't know how much this Lois woman knew about her cousin, or her for that matter, but she did know that Lois was one of the few people he trusted. But still… talking was hard.

Lois, noting the girl's hesitation, softened her approach. "I'm not here to interrogate you. I just want to ask a few questions."

Kara wasn't sure what a terror gate was, but it sounded bad. She nodded, trying not to appear as anxious as she felt. Lois gestured vaguely at the red-and-yellow crest on Kara's chest.

"So, it's pretty obvious by now that you bear some relation to Superman," Lois started gently. "We've seen you flying with him for the last couple of days. However, he's been vague on the details. Tell me, in your own words. Who are you? And what exactly is your relation to Superman?"

Kara exhaled. She could do this. English. Small words. No nervous babbling.

She lifted her chin. "I am Kara Zor-El. I am…" She paused, searching for the right phrase. "Kal-El's... uh. Cousin?" The Kents had used the word a few times.

Lois's pen scratched across her notepad. "Superman's cousin? I see. Fascinating. From Krypton I assume?"

The word caught her off guard. A small stab of pain twisted in her chest. Kara blinked it away before she could dwell on it.

"Yes," She said, betraying none of her inner turmoil.

"According to Superman, his home planet was destroyed over thirty years ago?" Lois went on, looking at her curiously. "How is it that you've only just arrived? Is there a chance the destruction of Krypton was less... total than he was led to believe? And are more of you on the way?"

Kara's mind flashed with images. A red sun rising above a devastated wasteland. An empty sky filled with the dying cries of her people. Her home, her world, reduced to rubble.

She shook her head. Focusing on translating the question.

"No," Kara said sombrely. "No more Krypton. Only us..." Lois gave her a sympathetic look, with a small twinge of guilt. Kara was grateful for the silence that followed. "And uh," Kara went on, eager to change the subject. "My ship get caught in a... a? Um?..." Her hands gestured aimlessly, struggling for the word, then pointed up into the sky.

Lois followed her hand. "A cloud?"

"Yes!" Kara brightened, nodding enthusiastically. "A cloud. In space, hold ship. Slow down very much. I land only recently."

"Right," Lois said, jotting down a note. "That must be why we haven't seen you until now. So, you grew up on Kypt-" She cut herself off, catching the flinch in Kara's expression. "-uh. Never mind, we don't have to talk about that," She flipped through her notepad, looking for a safer topic. "What can you tell me about the scene that happened here? Is this your debut as Supergirl? Can we expect more heroics in the future?"

"Heroic?" Kara's brow creased, unsure of the word. She shook her head. "I'm not... Hero? I close by. So I help. Stop people hurting."

"Sound's pretty heroic to me," Lois said, tapping her pen. "Glad to know that being a big blue boy scout, or girl scout as the case may be, is a family trait. I'm sure the citizens of Metropolis will be glad to know that we're in good hands."

"Girl scout?" Kara asked, confused.

At that, Lois arched an eyebrow and gave the girl a once-over. "Actually, speaking on which. You look young. Like, really young. Not a kid, but... How old are you?"

Kara could see the slight judgement in the reporter's expression and suddenly felt self-conscious again. She shifted nervously, feeling the need to defend herself. She wasn't a child, despite what Kal and the Kent's thought. She was an adult. The suit she wore proved it.

Only upon reaching adulthood would a Kryptonian receive their suit and be allowed to wear the sigil of their house. And while Kara was young, only a few months into her adulthood before Krypton's destruction, she could proudly state she was the mature age of-

"Twelve!" Kara declared, puffing up her chest with pride.

Lois froze. The pen stopped moving. A beat of silence stretched between them.

"I'm sorry, what?" Lois's eyebrows lifted in disbelief.

"I am twelve!" Kara repeated, nodding proudly.

Lois blinked. Then blinked again. Then looked over at the totalled cars, at the girl who had ripped open doors with her bare hands, lifted a whole truck, and carried two injured people at once without breaking a sweat, and then looked back at Kara, who was still standing tall with pride.

A paramedic nearby audibly choked. Someone else whispered, "Oh my God, a child just bench-pressed a semi."

Kara's defiant pride faltered slightly at the stunned look on the woman's face. She'd just broken another cultural taboo, hadn't she?

Lois's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. "You're twelve years old?" She gestured back to Kara's body, the height alone being an argument. "Do Kryptonians age differently or something? I would've guessed you were closer to twenty."

Kara wasn't sure if she was being insulted or not. She didn't look Twenty! She was younger than the reporter and Lois didn't look a day over seventeen-

"Ah," Kara said, realising her mistake. "Sorry. I still learning human language. Earth maths is... different," Kara waved a hand, trying to find the word. "Different counting?"

Lois pondered it for a moment, confused at first, then slowly understanding. "Right. You mean twelve in Kryptonian years, not Earth years."

"Yes." Kara nodded, relieved. "Earth years small. Krypton years big."

Lois's pen was at work again. "Interesting. So, any idea how old you are in Earth years?"

Kara tilted her head, thinking. There were several conversions she had to do in her head. Her brain wasn't quite used to Earth's math. Seconds were the same, but minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years were completely different. And then there was the fact that humans didn't even have tridents, which was a measurement that sat between hours and days.

One-hundred and thirty seconds to a minute, twelve minutes to an hour, twelve hours to a trident, three tridents to a day, twelve days to a week, three weeks to a month, fifteen months and two days to a year, excluding leap years every five years. Converting to human measurements would be faster if she had her old computer, but a quick calculation and a bit of estimation would be enough.

"Nineteen," She answered. Pausing briefly before waving her hand around. Eighteen to nineteen. Close enough.

"That makes more sense," Lois said, nodding as she wrote. "Still a little on the young side, but better. We've had teens with powers before, so the public will accept it easier."

"Teen?" Kara asked.

"Someone between the ages of thirteen and eighteen," Lois explained, tapping her pen against her chin. "Not a child, but not quite an adult."

Kara wasn't sure she approved of that. Human culture was confusing. You were either a child or an adult, why did they have a middle ground?

"So," Lois continued. "If you're twelve, how old is Superman?" Lois smirked like she was setting up a trap.

Kara did another quick calculation. It was easier now that she'd already done it once.

"Seventeen?" Kara frowned. It still felt weird to her, knowing that her younger cousin was actually older now. "But Kal was just baby when I left. So Wait. Maybe that make me... Twenty-nine?..." Her frown doubled down. She wasn't sure if she should count her chronological age or just her biological age. Space travel was confusing. "No, no. Too confusing. I am twelve. And half. Or uh. Nineteen. Yes."

Lois chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah, that does sound a little confusing." She clicked her pen closed, offering Kara a reassuring smile. "Well, I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me. I can tell you're still adjusting, so I won't keep you much longer." She tucked her notepad away and gave Kara a considering look. "But I'd love to sit down for a real interview once you're more settled in. The people of Metropolis are going to have a lot of questions about their new hero."

Kara shifted on her feet, uncertain. "Hero? I don't know…" She glanced at the people still gathered near the wreckage, some still staring at her in awe. "I… help, but…"

Lois nodded, as if she understood. "Well, if you ever want to talk, about that or anything else, just find me at the Daily Planet. Or, y'know, you could just land on my balcony. Superman does it all the time."

Kara managed a small smile at that. "Kal said you are… nice lady."

Lois smirked. "Did he now? I'll have to remind him of that next time he gives me a hard time."

Kara gave her a small nod, then glanced up at the sky, ready to leave. The attention was starting to overwhelm her again, and the conversation had taken more energy than she expected. Without another word, she lifted off the ground, rising effortlessly above the street. A few people gasped and pointed, but Kara barely noticed as she took off into the sky.

A few minutes later, she found Kal hovering above the Metropolis skyline, arms crossed as he watched the city below. He turned at the sound of her approach, offering a small, apologetic smile. "Hey. Sorry about earlier. There was a League situation."

Kara nodded, landing beside him. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just one of those 'minor nuclear reactor meltdown' things," He said lightly, but his expression was tired. Then his eyes flicked over her curiously. "What about you? You get into anything while I was gone?"

Kara thought about the accident, the rescue, and the strange but kind woman with the notepad. She thought about how people had looked at her, whispered about her, given her a name she wasn't sure she wanted.

She exhaled and gave Kal a small, thoughtful smile.

"I had a nice conversation."

 

[Gowonzu]

The sky burned as Kara plummeted toward Earth, her escape pod a streak of fire and fury. The impact sent a shockwave through the frozen tundra, ice and snow erupting into the air. She gasped, stumbling from the wreckage, her limbs aching, her breath ragged. The world around her was alien, harsh, cold and filled with voices barking in a language she didn't recognise.

Disoriented, her mind reeled. Krypton was gone. Just hours ago, she had seen the planet erupt in a cataclysm of fire. Her mother's voice, telling her to find Kal-El, still echoed in her ears. And now, this? This strange, grey sky, this unfamiliar ground?

Bipedal aliens circled her, Kryptonian in shape but clad in uniforms she didn't recognise. Their shouts turned to alarm as she rose to her feet, stronger, faster than before. Her senses sharpened unnaturally. Heat pulsed behind her eyes. One man stepped too close, raising something, a weapon? She reacted instinctively, shoving him back with more force than intended. He flew several feet through the air, crashing into the snow.

Then, a figure descended from the sky.

The mere fact that a man was flying would've been enough to give Kara pause. But that was only the second most shocking thing about him. He was tall, clad in blue and red, bearing the symbol of the House of El on his chest. Her house. Kryptonian.

Kara blinked. It couldn't be.

"Kal-El?" She asked out in disbelief. The man reacted to the name, eyes widening before a smile broke over his features.

"Zdrast-vuy-tye. Ya…" He said, in broken Kryptonian. "I mean- You. Are safe. With me." His words eventually matched an approximation of Kryptonian. However, it sounded stiff, unfamiliar and unnatural. It came slowly, as though retrieved from old memory banks. "You must be Kara?"

Kara nodded. A moment later, he was embracing her.

"My- cousin," He continued, struggling to find the right words. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

She stared at him, her heart pounding. This was Kal-El? Her baby cousin, the one she was meant to protect? But he was grown, a fully grown man. It didn't make sense. Also, he could fly?

"I- I don't understand." She shook her head.

"It's okay." He smiled a warm, genuine smile. "It's okay. I'll explain everything," He broke the hug, floating a few inches above the ground, before reaching out his hand. "But first, we need to get you away from here."

She took it, and he pulled her upwards into the sky.

Away from the snow and ice, a new world emerged. So many new sounds and smells, colours, sensations. It was overwhelming. Kal-El explained the power of the Earth's yellow sun, the gifts it had bestowed upon them. His place among humanity, his life as Superman and his childhood with a human family.

His friends, a league of justice, identified Kara's ship several days ago and traced her journey from Krypton. Kal-El's appearance was not by chance. They predicted her trajectory, to a sizable probability, and sent him out to find her.

As they soared above the clouds, Kara's mind swam with the sheer impossibility of it all. The weightlessness, the wind rushing past her, the distant glow of city lights, everything was new, strange, exhilarating.

But beneath the awe, something dark and heavy stirred.

Kara's hands trembled as she clung to Kal-El's, her cousin, yet not the child she had been sent to protect. He was a man now, a legend among these people, while she had just left Krypton behind. The memories were still raw, the fire, the screams, her mother's face as she was cast into the void.

Time had betrayed her. Krypton was gone. Her family, her friends. Everything she had ever known. And yet, the universe kept turning. Kal-El had lived an entire lifetime without her, while she was trapped in the past, still reeling from a loss he had already accepted.

The weight of it all crushed her. She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "Everything is gone."

Kal-El's grip tightened, steady and warm. "Not everything."

Before she could respond, he shifted their course, the wind rushing past as he carried her toward something unseen.

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

The Fortress of Solitude was breathtaking.

Crystalline structures rose like frozen waterfalls, glimmering under ethereal light. Kara stepped inside, the air crisp and humming with an energy she recognised. Kryptonian technology. Remnants of her past. It was the first thing that had felt remotely like home.

Kal-El led her to a quiet space where he had prepared something. A meal. On the table rested plants she recognised, fruits and grains cultivated from Krypton's lost flora, carefully grown in this artificial sanctuary.

Kara hesitated before taking a bite. The taste was… off. Familiar, but not quite right. Kal-El watched her, hopeful. She swallowed, looking at him curiously. "What is this supposed to be?"

His face fell slightly. "A traditional Kryptonian meal? At least, I think so. I never really got to eat Kryptonian food. So all I have to go off is a recipe I found. It's the only one that matches the edible plants I've recovered."

A strange, sad smile crossed her lips.

Kal-El nodded, accepting his error. "Everything I know about Krypton comes from data archives and holograms. Including what I know about you." He hesitated, glancing at the meal. "Did I get it wrong?"

Kara laughed softly, it was broken and shaky, but the smile was no less genuine. "The ingredients are right, but the dish is all wrong."

Kal-El chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, I tried."

The moment was small, but it meant something. Despite the vast time and space that separated them, they were family. They had each other.

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

The days passed in a strange blur. Kal-El couldn't stay with her every moment. He had a life, responsibilities, and a world that needed him. She understood, but the solitude weighed on her.

Left alone in the vast, frozen sanctuary, Kara absorbed the loss and processed what she could. The Fortress became a strange comfort, its cold halls and Kryptonian echoes a fragile tether to her past. She spent hours wandering its crystalline corridors, memorising every detail, immersing herself in the remnants of her lost home. But even as the Fortress offered solace, it also reminded her of what was gone, and the vast, unfamiliar world outside loomed, daunting but inevitable.

Kara tested the limits of her new body in small, uncertain ways. She didn't train for combat. She wasn't a fighter, never had been. But the power was there, thrumming beneath her skin, waiting. It scared her as much as it taunted her.

She moved too fast without meaning to, shattering the crystal beneath her feet. She reached for something fragile, only to watch it break in her hands. Her own breath came too sharp, her own heartbeat too loud. And the worst was the heat behind her eyes. Building, aching, as if something terrible was waiting to be unleashed.

She hated it.

Back on Krypton, she had been normal. Just a girl. Now, she was this. A being of impossible strength, stranded on a world that wasn't hers. Every moment felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, wind howling, the drop endless.

Kal-El promised it would get easier. That she would learn. That she would control it.

But Kara wasn't so sure.

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

The lessons started simply. Words, then sentences. Kal-El spoke slowly, patiently, correcting her accent when needed. English felt strange on her tongue, blunt where Kryptonian was elegant, inconsistent where her native language followed precise rules.

Krypton had never needed more than one language. Long before she was born, the world government had established a single, unified speech. Any remnants of old dialects had been left to historians. The only reason a Kryptonian would learn another language was for study… or to speak to a Daxamite.

Kara frowned at the thought. Daxamites. Krypton's wayward cousins, with their arrogance and their grudge. She had never met one, but she had learned enough to know they held no love for her people. Even still, the knowledge that their home had shared the same fate as her own world had been hard to accept.

She repeated the words Kal-El gave her, pushing the thoughts away. If she was going to survive here, she had to learn. To adapt. Even if it felt like losing one more piece of the life she once knew.

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

Kara had been free to leave the Fortress whenever she wanted. Kal-El had made that clear early on. He trusted her and believed she could handle herself. But trust wasn't the issue.

It took two weeks before she finally stepped beyond its frozen walls.

Flying was easier than she expected. The wind, the movement, the sky stretching infinitely around her. It should have been terrifying, but it wasn't. Not quite. She followed Kal-El across the planet, listening as he pointed out key landmarks, weaving together the story of this world. Its wars, its triumphs, its fragile, stubborn hope.

And he believed in them. Humanity. He spoke of them the way Kryptonians once spoke of their civilisation. With pride, with faith in their potential. It was strange, hearing him talk about a species so unlike them with such devotion.

Then came Metropolis. His home.

She hovered high above it, unwilling to get too close. The city pulsed with life, too loud, too much. She wasn't ready. Not yet. Below, a building burned. Fire and smoke curled into the sky. People ran, shouting, panicking. And then, Superman was there.

She watched as he moved effortlessly, guiding civilians to safety, dousing flames, steady and sure. They reached for him, eyes filled with trust, gratitude. Love.

Kara pulled back, retreating higher into the clouds. This wasn't her world. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Kal-El found her there, quiet in the cold air above the city. He didn't ask why she had fled. He only smiled, as if he understood, and gestured for her to follow.

They flew together, leaving the city lights behind, trading steel and glass for endless stretches of green and gold. The air changed, growing softer, touched with the scent of earth and growing things. Below them, the land was open, rolling fields stretching toward a horizon kissed by the setting sun.

Smallville.

The name felt strange on her tongue when Kal-El spoke it, but the town itself was stranger still. It was nothing like Krypton, nor like the cold solitude of the Fortress. The buildings were small, scattered, without the precise symmetry she was used to. Everything felt… warm. Lived in. The world here did not move with efficiency but with ease.

And then there were them. The first humans she had seen up close since her crash.

Martha and Jonathan Kent greeted her with smiles, their voices gentle and welcoming. The language barrier loomed between them, her English still broken and uncertain, but they didn't seem to mind. Martha touched her arm lightly, guiding her inside, speaking in a tone that reminded Kara of…

Her mother.

The thought nearly made her recoil, but the Kents were patient. They didn't push. They simply were. Kind. Inviting. Treating her like family.

For the first time since arriving on this world, Kara didn't feel like an intruder.

She sat stiffly at the wooden table, her hands folded in her lap. The house smelled of something sweet, something rich. Jonathan set a plate in front of her, the scent curling into her nose.

Martha smiled as she placed a fork beside it. "Apple pie," She said kindly. "Go on, try it."

Kara glanced at Kal-El, uncertain. He nodded encouragingly.

Carefully, she picked up the fork, pressing it into the flaky crust. The piece she lifted was small, cautious. The moment it touched her tongue, her eyes widened. Sweet, tart, warm. So different from the precise, engineered meals of Krypton.

"Is…" She struggled for the word, her voice thick with surprise. "Good. Very… good."

Martha beamed. "I'm glad you like it."

The rest of the household took their seats, breaking into a shared family meal around her.

Kara took another bite, slower this time, savouring it. She swallowed, glancing at Jonathan, then Martha. "You… make this?"

Martha nodded. "Yes, from scratch."

Kara frowned, the phrase unfamiliar. "Scratch?"

Kal-El chuckled. "It means she made it herself. From the start." He explained in Kryptonian.

Understanding flickered in Kara's eyes as she took another bite, letting the taste settle on her tongue. The sweetness was still surprising, but not unwelcome. She thought of Kryptonian meals. Efficient, carefully balanced, every ingredient chosen for its exact nutritional value. They weren't bland, exactly, but there was little room for excess or indulgence. Every dish served a purpose.

She tapped the edge of the plate thoughtfully. "Food… here," She said, searching for the right words. "This meal? Is not… need. It is… extra?"

Jonathan chuckled, swallowing a bite of his own. "It's more than extra, I'd say. It's a part of life."

"Food brings people together," Martha added. "It's something we share, something we enjoy."

Kara considered that. Krypton had grand feasts on occasion, but even those were structured and ceremonial. This was different. Simple, unremarkable by Earth standards, but warm and comforting, like the town she was in. She found herself understanding the world a little better.

As they ate, conversation flowed around her. Kal-El helped her when she got lost in the language, translating when needed, but the Kents were patient. They asked about her, but never pried. They welcomed her, but never pushed.

When the plates were cleared, Martha rested a hand on Kara's. "You know, you're welcome to stay here," she said. "For as long as you need."

Kara blinked. "Stay?"

Jonathan nodded. "Might be nice for you to see more of Earth. Get to know it properly."

Kara hesitated. The house was warm, inviting… but so was the Fortress. And the Fortress, at least, felt familiar. This world was still too alien. Its people, its customs, its language. It was too much.

She glanced at Kal-El, then back at the Kents. "I… not ready," She admitted. "But… I come again."

Martha squeezed her hand gently. "We'd love that."

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

The sky stretched endlessly around them as Kara and Kal-El soared back toward the Fortress. She flew slower than before, her thoughts circling the day's events.

"I like them," She admitted at last. "They are kind."

Kal-El nodded. "They are."

"But…" She hesitated. "I don't see myself here. This world… it's not mine. I don't belong to it."

Kal-El exhaled, thoughtful. "I know. And I know it feels impossible right now. But you don't have to figure everything out at once."

Kara frowned. "Then what?"

He gave her a small, knowing smile. "Take it one step at a time."

She glanced at him, considering the words.

One step at a time.

It was an Earth phrase, one of many that defied literal meaning. And yet, there was something to it. A measured pace. A way forward, even if she couldn't yet see the destination.

She let the thought settle as the Fortress rose into view, its crystalline towers gleaming under the light. The future remained uncertain, unfamiliar.

But for now, at least, she wasn't facing it alone.

 

[Gowonzu]

Clark stood in the Watchtower, gazing down at the blue and green planet below. His arms were crossed, his jaw tight, and his usual composed expression had been replaced with something more uncertain. The vastness of space stretched endlessly beyond the station's reinforced glass, the stars glimmering like distant memories. A sigh escaped him, quiet but unmistakable.

"Something troubling you?"

Diana's voice was calm but carried an undertone of curiosity. She stepped up beside him, her gaze following his. "You've been standing here for a while."

Clark didn't respond immediately. Instead, he let his eyes trail over the curvature of the Earth, the clouds drifting lazily over the oceans and continents. He had seen this view countless times before, but tonight, it felt different. Heavier, as though the weight of something unseen pressed against him.

Diana studied him for a moment before tilting her head. "You rarely let things linger on your mind like this. What is it?"

Clark hesitated before answering, his eyes never leaving the planet below. "I… messed up."

Diana's brow furrowed slightly. It wasn't often that Clark admitted to failure, and when he did, it was never lightly. "In what way?"

"This I have to hear," Bruce said drily as he stepped forward, his silhouette outlined against the glow of the Earth. His cowl hid his expression, but his tone carried a mix of scepticism and amusement. "What could Superman possibly have done wrong?"

Clark sighed again, a deeper sound this time, his shoulders shifting as though the weight of his thoughts had settled even heavier.

"Kara…"

Both Diana and Bruce were silent. Sharing a glance between themselves, they returned their attention to Clark. Bruce typed away at a small keypad attached to his wrist, a small satellite view of the Arctic displayed in miniature on the screen.

"She's still at the Fortress. Has been the last two days," Bruce said, like he was giving a debrief.

"You've been keeping tabs on her." Clark huffed with a small chuckle in amusement. He wasn't surprised by Batman's antics these days. "Wait? Do you have an entire satellite dedicated to following my cousin?"

Bruce didn't deny it. "She crashed here a month ago, Clark. An alien with no understanding of this world, no connection to it. And she has powers that rival yours."

Diana nodded, her expression carefully neutral. "He has a point. Kara isn't you. You grew up here, among humans. She didn't."

Clark exhaled, his fingers pressing against the bridge of his nose. He had expected this from Bruce. He had hoped for more understanding from Diana.

Bruce's voice was cold, precise. "She's not you, Clark. She wasn't raised here, didn't learn restraint from human parents. She lost everything. That kind of grief doesn't fade. It festers. And all it takes is one bad day." Bruce sipped on a cup of coffee that he was holding before adding. "And it's two satellites watching her."

Clark turned from the window to face them. "She cries herself to sleep every night," He admitted, his voice heavy with guilt. "She tries to hide it, but I can hear her. She's lost, Bruce. She doesn't know how to be here, how to exist without Krypton. And I don't know how to fix that." He turned his gaze back to the Earth below. "That's what makes my mistake feel all the worse."

Diana's expression softens, even as Bruce holds his grim suspicion. Clark feels the Amazonian place a comforting hand on his shoulder, a reassuring warmth.

"Whatever that has been done," Diana says, "Can be fixed. There is no situation that cannot be salvaged. Tell us, what did you do?"

Clark hesitated before continuing. "It started when I tried to show her what it meant to live like a human." He let out a short, humourless chuckle. "Just small things. To help her feel normal, to help her connect. That's when everything started to go wrong…"

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

The sky was softer here. On Krypton, the morning sun had been sharp and unwavering, casting crystal-clear light over the gleaming towers of her home. But here, the Earth's sky blushed with warmth, painted in delicate shades of gold and pink as the sun climbed the horizon. The clouds weren't harsh, geometric structures of controlled weather, but free-floating wisps that drifted wherever the wind pleased.

It was… beautiful.

Kara exhaled, her breath steady as she let her eyes drift downward. Below the painted sky, nestled within the worn wooden fences of the Kent farm, were the creatures that had captivated her attention.

They were stocky, wide-bodied things, their round frames coated in a layer of dust and mud. Their ears twitched at passing insects, their small, intelligent eyes scanning their surroundings as they snorted softly to one another. Their thick skin wrinkled as they shifted, pressing against each other for warmth despite the mild air.

Back on Krypton, creatures of similar purpose had roamed the colder regions of Argo. They had been smaller, their fur a pristine white to blend into the snowdrifts, their hooves nimble on icy ground. She could still remember the way they would huddle together against the chill, their breath misting in the air, their low, rhythmic calls carrying across the frozen plains.

And yet… despite the differences in shape and size, there was something familiar in these creatures before her now.

The way they pressed together for warmth, the way they rooted through the straw, making soft, contented sounds It wasn't so different after all. Different world, different sky, but life still moved the same.

That thought settled something inside her, a quiet reassurance she hadn't known she needed.

The sound of approaching footsteps met her ears, but she had already sensed the presence before he even spoke. She had heard his heartbeat the moment he arrived.

"Kara."

She didn't turn, simply lifting a hand in acknowledgement. "Kal."

A pause. Then, "What are you doing?"

Kara grinned, still watching the animals. She simply pointed at them.

"Piggies…"

Johnathan Kent had given her the creature's name. Called them his 'little piggies' as Kara assisted in distributing the feed bag.

Kal sighed in amusement. "You really like the animals here, don't you?"

At last, she turned to face him, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. But as she did, her expression faltered.

He was wearing human clothing.

The vibrant reds and blues of their house's crest had been replaced with muted flannel, denim, and worn boots. His presence, which should have been unmistakable, was diluted. Buried beneath layers of something else. His posture, his hair, everything about him felt wrong.

She frowned. "You're not wearing your suit?"

Kal-El glanced down at himself, then back at her. "Oh?" He chuckled at her reaction, shaking his head. "I don't wear the suit all the time, Kara. On Earth, I live as Clark Kent just as much as I live as Superman."

Kara's frown deepened. "But why? You are Kryptonian."

"I am," Kal-El agreed, his voice calm. "But I was raised here. I have a life here, too."

Kara folded her arms, not quite able to put words to the frustration stirring inside her. It wasn't anger, not really. Just confusion. It felt wrong to take off the suit, like shedding a piece of herself. The crest of the House of El was their legacy, their birthright. Shouldn't they wear it always?

Kal-El studied her for a moment, then softened his approach. "I get it, Kara. It's different for you. Back on Krypton, you wore your house sigil every day. It was part of who you were. Here…" He spread his arms, gesturing to the farm around them. "We have different ways of living. I want to show you that."

Kara didn't respond right away, letting her gaze drift back to the pigs. Kal had said he wanted to show her, but all she could think about was the towering skyline of Metropolis, the press of people, the unfamiliar rush of human life.

"…I don't want to go to the city," She admitted, her voice quieter than before.

Kal-El nodded in understanding as if he'd expected that answer. "Then we won't. Let's start small."

He motioned toward the farmhouse. "Come inside. Ma got some clothes for you," He nodded back towards the house, gesturing her to follow. "And don't worry about your suit. Mom will wash it for you."

Kara hesitated, glancing down at herself. Her suit, the only thing she owned, was still clean, despite how often she had worn it. "I've been washing this in the Fortress," she pointed out, before narrowing her eyes at him. "It is not dirty."

Kal-El grinned, leading the way toward the house. "I know. But trust me. Mom does it better."

Inside, Martha Kent greeted Kara with a warm smile, holding up a neatly folded stack of clothes. "The neighbours' girls are about your size," she said. "These should fit."

Kara eyed the bundle, uncertain. "These are… human clothes."

Martha nodded. "They are. If you want to go into town, you'll fit in a little easier this way."

Kara opened her mouth to protest but hesitated.

She had already tried once.

It had been a brief, impulsive expedition. An attempt to prove to herself that she could walk among humans just as easily as Kal-El did. She had flown into town, landing quietly in a back alley, and stepped onto the bustling streets in her Kryptonian suit.

And the stares had come immediately.

People had whispered, some pointing, some nudging their companions. A few had even pulled out their devices, scanning her before she had fully realised what was happening. She had tried to ignore it, tried to walk with confidence, but every step felt heavier, every glance a reminder that she was out of place.

She hadn't lasted more than a few minutes before she turned on her heel and fled, taking to the skies and vanishing back toward the farm. She hadn't been back since.

Kara swallowed and looked back at the clothes in Martha's hands. They still felt wrong, unfamiliar. But maybe… maybe it was worth a try.

She reached out and took them. "…Alright."

A few minutes later, she stepped out of the room wearing denim overalls, a white shirt, and a pair of sturdy boots. The clothes fit well, though the material was not as comfortable as she was used to. She glanced at Kal-El, waiting for his reaction.

He grinned. "You look good, Kara."

She shifted, unsure of how to respond to that. Instead, she turned to Martha. "Thank you."

Martha beamed. "Of course, dear."

Kal-El clapped his hands together. "Alright, before we go into town, we need to talk about blending in."

Kara raised an eyebrow. "Blending in?"

"Yes." He smiled, but his expression carried a quiet sincerity. "Kara, I know this is new for you, but on Earth, we don't walk around as Kryptonians. We live among humans, and that means adjusting. At least in public."

Kara folded her arms. "Adjusting how?"

Kal motioned toward himself. "For one, this."

She frowned. "The human disguise?"

Kal's smile didn't waver, but there was a slight shake of his head. "It's not a disguise, Kara. This is who I am."

Kara blinked at him, thrown off by the certainty in his voice. "But… you're Kal-El."

"I'm both," Kal said simply. "I was born Kal-El of Krypton, but I was raised Clark Kent. That's not just some role I put on. It's who I am."

Kara studied him, her brows knitting together. The way he said it, with so much conviction, unsettled her. She had always thought of him as Kal-El first, a Kryptonian like her, someone who had simply learned to act human. But now, hearing him say it like this… it sounded like he truly believed he was Clark Kent.

That didn't make sense.

"How can you be both?" she asked, frustration creeping into her voice. "You are Kryptonian. You were sent here as Kal-El. That should come first."

Kal exhaled through his nose, patient but firm. "It's not about what comes first, Kara. I didn't grow up on Krypton. I don't have memories of it like you do. Earth is my home. These people? They're my family, my friends. My mother, my father, my life. It's all here."

Kara looked away, suddenly feeling something tight in her chest. He said it so easily. Earth is my home.

She wanted to argue. To tell him that Krypton was his home, that their heritage should come before anything else. That no matter how long he had lived here, he was still Kal-El of Krypton first and foremost.

But he didn't see it that way.

And she was beginning to realise… maybe he never had.

Kal must have noticed the tension in her silence, because his voice softened. "I know this is hard for you. It might not feel right at first. But if you let it, Earth can be home, too."

Kara exhaled through her nose, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her borrowed clothes. She still wasn't convinced this was the right way to go about things, but what other choice did she have? Sitting in the Fortress, mourning a world she could never return to, wasn't helping.

"Fine," she said at last, though her tone was less than enthusiastic. "I'll try."

Kal's grin widened. "That's the spirit. Come on." He turned, leading the way toward the driveway.

Kara followed, frowning slightly as they approached the old red truck. The paint was chipped in places, and the engine gave a low rumble as Kal climbed into the driver's seat. Kara hesitated beside the passenger door.

"We're not flying?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Nope," Kal replied, buckling his seatbelt with practised ease. "We're travelling like humans."

Kara sighed, pulling the door open and settling into the seat beside him. The truck creaked under her weight as she adjusted her posture, shifting against the stiff material of the seat. Everything about the vehicle felt inefficient.

"You know this thing pollutes too much to be a viable method of transportation," She muttered, eyeing the dashboard sceptically.

Kal chuckled. "Welcome to Earth."

The drive was a slow, rattling experience that only reinforced Kara's initial thoughts. Kryptonian technology was leagues beyond this, their transit systems could outmatch the speed and efficiency of this primitive machine.

Kara rested her elbow on the window's edge, watching the landscape roll by. The world outside the window blurred past at a speed far slower than she was used to, giving her a chance to observe the golden fields, the stretches of green farmland, the way the morning sun cast long, soft shadows over the earth. For all of its inefficiencies, she had to admit, there was a certain rhythm to the way humans lived. Slower, maybe. But not without its own kind of logic.

By the time they reached the town proper, her earlier calm had begun to unravel. The streets were lined with cars and pedestrians, humans moving about their daily lives in an organised chaos that made her stomach twist with unease.

Kal pulled the truck into a parking spot, turning off the engine before glancing at her. "You okay?"

Kara straightened, realising her hands had curled into fists against her lap. She forced them to relax. "Yeah… Just a little nervous." She asked, keeping her voice neutral.

Kal smiled. "It's alright," He said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Today is about living a day in the life of a human."

With a resigned sigh, she reached for the door handle and stepped out of the truck. "Alright. Let's get this over with."

Kal's expression was full of amusement as he joined her on the sidewalk. "That's the attitude."

Kara rolled her eyes but followed him anyway, stepping into the flow of human life as the town bustled around them.

"Another rule for today," Kal-El said, glancing at her with an easy smile. "You have to speak English the whole time. No Kryptonian while we're out in public."

Kara frowned. She had been learning, of course, but it still felt unnatural. Her words came slower, shaped by a tongue not meant for them. "Why?" she asked, her accent thick, the word clipped.

"Because it's part of blending in," Clark said. "People won't understand you if you speak Kryptonian, and if you want to live here, speaking English is important."

Kara crossed her arms, displeased. "I know some English, Kal. But is hard."

Clark chuckled. "You're getting better. Just keep practising. And remember. Clark. Not Kal."

She exhaled sharply through her nose but didn't argue. Clark. Fine.

Kara took the opportunity to glance around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Small brick buildings lined the streets, their fronts displaying colourful signs with human writing. Some had large windows filled with objects. Clothing, food, strange devices she couldn't yet name. Humans walked along the sidewalks, chatting, carrying bags, going about their lives.

"What are we do?" She asked.

Clark grinned. "Shopping."

Kara furrowed her brows. The word was vaguely familiar. She had heard it before but wasn't sure she understood. "Shopping?"

Clark nodded. "You need clothes. You can't just wear the same thing every day. It's better if you pick them yourself."

Kara glanced down at the borrowed overalls and shirt she was wearing. They felt strange, stiff compared to her Kryptonian attire. And she still wasn't sure about all of this. "I do not… know what is good?" She admitted hesitantly.

"That's why I'm here to help," Clark assured her. "Come on, let's go."

Kara followed him, trying not to feel overwhelmed by the sudden noise of passing cars and chattering people. The store they approached had large glass windows displaying mannequins dressed in different styles of clothing. Above the entrance, the sign was unreadable to Kara.

Clark pushed the door open, and a small bell chimed as they stepped inside. The noise surprised Kara, who jumped back at it, watching the metal device with a cautious stare. The store was filled with racks of clothing, shelves stacked with folded fabrics, and displays of shoes and accessories.

A woman behind the counter glanced up and offered a friendly smile. "Morning, Clark!" She greeted. "I didn't know you were back in town. So good to see you again!" She smiled as warmly as the Kent's did, then looked at Kara with mild curiosity. "And who's this?"

Clark returned the smile. "Morning, Millie. This is my cousin, Kara. She's new in town and needs some clothes."

Kara stiffened slightly under the woman's gaze but nodded. "Hello," She said, her accent making the word slightly awkward.

"She's a distant relative," Clark added, sheepishly. "Recently moved to America."

"Well, any family of Clark is a friend to me. Nice to meet you, dear," Millie said warmly, offering a hand towards Kara. Kara stared at the gesture, unsure what to do in return. With a silent nudge from Clark, she stuck out her hand in a mirrored greeting and watched as the woman took it and shook. "Well, you've come to the right place. Let me know if you need any help."

Clark led Kara toward the aisles of clothing. "Alright, let's start with basics. You'll need a few outfits, casual wear, something nicer in case you ever need it, and maybe something for colder weather."

"We do not feel cold?" Kara said back in confusion.

Clark chuckled awkwardly over her, turning to Millie quickly. "Kansas doesn't get as cold as up north, sure. But it wouldn't hurt regardless."

Kara eyed the options with uncertainty. The styles varied so much, some garments were loose and flowing, others tight-fitting. Some were simple, while others had intricate patterns or decorations. It was overwhelming.

She reached out, picking up a bright red shirt, turning it over in her hands. "This… good?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah, that's a good colour for you."

She seemed pleased by that and added it to the growing selection in her arms. She picked up a pair of denim pants next, but her face twisted in confusion as she turned them over, examining the multiple pockets. "What is?"

Clark chuckled. "Jeans."

"Jeens," Kara repeated, the word unfamiliar on her tongue.

"They're durable, comfortable once you break them in. Pretty common casual wear."

Kara gave him a sceptical look before holding them against herself, trying to gauge the fit. "Look… strange."

Clark laughed. "You'll get used to them. Trust me."

As they continued picking out clothes, Kara kept glancing at him, her mind turning over something else. She hesitated before asking, "Clark?"

He smiled at her quick correction of his name. "Yeah?"

"Krypton have… commerce," she said slowly, picking her words carefully. "We trade, we buy. How different?"

Clark considered her question. "It's not that different. But here, we use money." He pulled out his wallet and showed her a few bills. "These represent value. You trade them for goods or services."

Kara examined the bills curiously. "Paper?" She frowned. "Easily destroyed. Not good system."

Clark smirked. "We have digital currency as well. Banks store money safely, and people access it when they need it."

Kara considered this. "Earth have many banks?" She tilted her head. "Krypton… one bank. Government control all." She paused, deep in thought. "Different. But… same idea?"

Clark nodded. "Pretty much. Just different ways of managing it."

Kara exhaled, still wrapping her head around the concept, but accepted it for now. There was much to learn.

Clark gathered the clothes Kara had chosen so far and walked toward the counter. "I'm going to ring these up," He told her. "If you see anything else you want, go ahead and grab it."

Kara's brow furrowed. "Ring up?"

Clark smiled. "It means I'm buying them."

She nodded slowly, still puzzled by the phrase but deciding not to dwell on it. Instead, she wandered through the aisles, taking in more of the human clothing styles. She paused when she reached a section of swimsuits. Picking one up, she turned it over in her hands, frowning at how little fabric there was.

She had seen humans wear them at the beach before, but the amount of exposed skin was uncomfortable for her. On Krypton, people swam in their regular suits, without the cape, of course.

Her attention drifted when she overheard Clark and Millie talking. "Is she from Europe? Her accent is so... cute." Millie asked curiously.

Clark chuckled. "Well, she did land in Russia before coming here." He joked, not giving a direct answer.

Kara turned back to the clothes, absently browsing through the racks. She sifted through different shirts, her fingers brushing against the fabric. Then, her eyes landed on a section that made her freeze. The symbol was unmistakable. Familiar.

Her family crest. The sigil of the House of El.

One shirt. Then another. And another.

An entire display of them.

Horror gripped her. Her hands clenched into fists as she stepped closer, her heart hammering in disbelief. Humans were wearing her family's sigil? Selling it like a common design?

Kara's face twisted in anger, and before she could stop herself, she hissed in sharp Kryptonian, "Who gave them the right!?"

Clark tensed. "Kara-"

"Who allowed this?" She spat, her voice rising as she held up a shirt. "They take our symbol? Sell it? For profit!?" She turned to Clark, eyes blazing. "It is ours! House of El! Not for-"

"Kara," Clark said quickly, shifting to stand between her and Millie, who was now watching them with mild confusion. "Easy. It's okay."

Kara barely heard him. Her fury burned too hot. "They do not know what it means!"

Clark placed a firm hand on her shoulder, his grip grounding. "Kara, listen to me." He turned to Millie, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. She's just… really passionate about Superman."

Millie chuckled, confused but willing to accept it. "I can see that."

Clark ushered Kara out of the store quickly. Kara stood stiffly outside the store, her fists clenched at her sides. The anger still burned hot in her chest, but beneath it, confusion swirled. She had expected Clark to be just as furious—to demand answers, to tell her how humanity had dared to take what wasn't theirs. Instead, he was calm, patient, as if this was something he had already come to accept.

She didn't understand.

"They do not know what it means," she said, her voice tight. "It is not theirs."

Clark exhaled, watching her carefully. "Not in the way we know it, no. The House of El means 'Of the Stars.' Our family stood for knowledge, for discovery. We were explorers, scientists, thinkers."

Kara nodded sharply. That was their legacy. That was what the crest meant.

"But here," Clark continued, "It has come to mean something more."

She frowned, arms crossing as she tried to steady herself. "More?"

Clark gestured toward the town, toward the people walking by, unaware of the storm in her mind. She watched as a child ran circles around his parents, wearing a blue shirt with their emblem on it. Down the street, a couple shared a frozen food. The woman wore a jacket with the House of El emblazoned on it.

Kara's gaze swept further, and the more she looked, the more she saw. A man leaned against a shop window, sipping from a cup, the sigil proudly stamped across his chest. A passing car had a sticker of it on the bumper, slightly worn but still recognisable. In another window display, a framed photograph of Superman hung beside local heroes, his crest shining boldly in the glass. Even on the alley wall ahead, someone had spray-painted the symbol in bright yellow, the edges rough but unmistakable. It was everywhere. Her family's mark, scattered across this world, claimed by a people who had no right to it.

"To them, it means hope. It's a promise to do good, to strive for the betterment of all."

Hope.

Kara swallowed, staring at the crest painted across the wall. It wasn't worn as a badge of intellect or progress, not as a mark of nobility or achievement. It wasn't about science or discovery.

It was about belief.

Hope wasn't a bad thing. It was just… different.

She let out a slow breath, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "I do not know if I like that," She admitted.

Clark gave her a small smile. "You don't have to. You just have to understand it."

Kara wasn't sure she did. But at least now, she knew why.

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

Kara took the small, rectangular device from Clark, turning it over in her hands. It was thin, smooth, the surface cool against her fingers. She had seen humans with these before, always staring at them, tapping them, speaking to them as if they were living things.

"What this?" She asked, frowning at the dark glass screen.

"A communication device," Clark said, amusement in his voice. "It's called a phone."

Kara narrowed her eyes. "Not look like phone." The only communication devices she knew had been far more advanced. Holographic interfaces, voice commands, instant links to the Brainiac network. This was… primitive.

Clark tapped the screen, making it light up. Kara flinched, then scowled at his smirk. "You touch here," He explained, pointing to a symbol on the bottom, "Then swipe to unlock."

Kara did as instructed, but instead of sliding her finger across the glass, she flicked her hand upward, expecting a projection to appear. Nothing happened.

She tried again. Still nothing.

Clark chuckled.

Kara shot him a glare. "Why laugh?"

"You have to move your finger on the screen, not just-" He mimicked her flicking motion, still grinning.

Kara huffed, gripping the phone tighter. "Stupid. Bad design."

She grumbled under her breath as she finally managed to drag her finger across the screen properly. The device unlocked, revealing a grid of small, colourful symbols. She poked one at random, only for the screen to shift and fill with rows of strange words and tiny pictures. She pulled her hand back as if the device might explode.

Clark, still clearly amused, reached over and tapped an icon that looked like an old-fashioned receiver. "This lets you talk to anyone, anywhere."

Kara frowned. "Anywhere?" She looked around. Smallville was small. Primitive. She had seen no large communication hubs, no relay beacons. "How? No infrastructure."

Clark leaned against the truck, ever patient. "Radio towers, satellites," he explained. "Signals bounce off them, allowing calls to travel across the world."

Kara tilted her head. She understood the concept of satellites, Krypton had used them, though their technology was far beyond this. Still, she was sceptical.

She held up the phone, cleared her throat, and said firmly, "Call Kal-El."

The phone did nothing.

Clark raised a brow. "It doesn't-"

"Call Kal-El," She repeated, louder this time.

The screen blinked to life, and a cold, robotic voice answered, "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Kara's eyes narrowed. "Stupid machine. Call. Kal. El."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Kara clenched her jaw, glaring at the phone like it had personally offended her. "Not understand? Is simple command!"

Clark was grinning again. "It's not that smart."

Kara scoffed. "This bad AI. Stupid AI. Not like Brainiac."

Clark's smile faltered slightly at the name, but he quickly shook it off. "You have to save a number first. Here-" He took the phone, pressed a few buttons, and handed it back to her. "Now try calling the Kents."

Kara sighed but did as instructed. She pressed the new number and waited, the phone emitting a strange ringing sound. She frowned. "Takes too long."

Clark smirked but didn't argue.

Then, suddenly, the ringing stopped. A warm, familiar voice came through. "Hello?"

Kara startled, then hesitantly lifted the phone closer to her ear. "Martha?"

"Oh! Kara, dear! How wonderful to hear from you."

Kara glanced at Clark, confused. "No video?"

Clark shook his head. "Just voice."

Kara frowned. "And must… talk into here?" She gestured at the bottom of the phone, where the speaker and microphone were. "Not full receiver?"

Martha chuckled on the other end. "You'll get used to it, sweetie."

Kara huffed but softened slightly. "Okay. Just… testing. Clark say… I must learn."

"And you're doing great," Martha said warmly. "I hope you two have a good day."

Kara nodded, even though Martha couldn't see her. "Thank you."

She handed the phone back to Clark as the call ended, crossing her arms. "Audio quality… bad. Not clear."

Clark laughed. "Welcome to Earth."

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

Kara followed Clark through the store, her eyes darting over the shelves stacked high with colourful packages. The sheer variety was overwhelming. So many choices, so many unfamiliar words. Krypton had markets, but food was mostly regulated, distributed efficiently. This? This felt chaotic.

She watched as he picked out various ingredients. She didn't fully understand what he was making, but he had assured her it was a traditional Earth meal.

He grabbed a bag of green leaves first, tossing them into the cart. "We'll need this for the salad," He said.

Kara wrinkled her nose. "Leaves?"

Clark smirked. "Lettuce."

She eyed it warily. Krypton had greens, but they were carefully cultivated, engineered for maximum nutrition. This looked…wild. Unrefined.

Next, Clark picked up a sack of round vegetables. "Potatoes," He explained. "We'll mash them."

Kara brightened. She thought she recognised the word mash from Martha's kitchen. "Like pie?"

Clark laughed. "Not exactly, but close."

She nodded, satisfied. As they continued, Clark grabbed a few other items, seasonings, oil, something wrapped in paper that he didn't explain. Kara didn't ask. If it was important, he would say.

But something still nagged at her.

She hesitated before speaking. "Why… buy food?"

Clark glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

Kara gestured at the store around them. "Food… is need. Water, shelter. Basic. On Krypton, given." She paused, searching for the right words. "Food… free. Government give all people. Only pay for special, rare."

Clark sighed, placing a bottle into the cart. "Yeah. It's different here. People grow and sell food to make a living."

Kara frowned. "And if… no money?"

Clark's expression grew somber. "It's not a perfect system. Some people don't have enough."

Kara stopped walking. The thought unsettled her. "Then… they starve?"

Clark turned to face her. "Sometimes," He admitted. "There are programs to help, charities, shelters. But some people still fall through the cracks."

Kara's hands clenched. That was wrong. Unacceptable. No Kryptonian would be left to suffer like that. The idea that humans would allow it made her stomach twist. "That… that is cruel."

Clark gave a sad smile. "It is. But there are good people trying to fix it." He gestured toward a small donation box near the front of the store. "See that?"

Kara followed his gaze. The box was simple, worn from use, with a slot for money and a sign explaining it was for the local food bank. But what caught her eye was the symbol on it.

Her family crest. The House of El.

She stared at it, stunned. People walked past, dropping in spare bills and coins, giving what little they could to help others.

Clark's voice was gentle. "They use the symbol to inspire hope. To remind people to look out for each other."

Hope.

Kara swallowed. The crest of El had always meant "Of the Stars." A legacy of science, of discovery. But here, humans had reshaped its meaning. Not for conquest. Not for personal gain.

For each other.

Slowly, she approached the box, digging into her borrowed pockets. She found a few bills Clark had given her earlier for practice. Without hesitation, she slipped them into the slot.

Clark smiled. "That's a good start."

She nodded, her thoughts still racing, but her heart a little lighter. Maybe… maybe this world wasn't as cruel after all.

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

Kara wandered through the cozy Kent home as the scent of cooking filled the air. Clark had insisted on making dinner himself, despite Martha's protests.

"Clark, I've been cooking for you your whole life," Martha called from the kitchen. "You don't have to fuss over us."

Clark chuckled. "Just let me handle it, Ma. You deserve a break."

Kara listened to them with quiet amusement. She could hear Martha muttering about stubborn men and Jonathan laughing softly.

She turned her attention to the living room, her eyes drawn to the mantle lined with framed photographs.

There, frozen in time, was Clark. His entire life displayed in little rectangles of Earth history.

One showed him as a baby, exactly how Kara had remembered him on Krypton. Swaddled in a blanket, Martha beaming down at him. He would've been almost five in Earth years.

Another picture showed a young boy with wild hair, grinning as he sat on his father's shoulders. A teenager in a sports uniform, standing proudly next to Jonathan.

Kara's fingers brushed against the frame, tracing the younger version of Kal-El. He had a life here. A past she would never understand.

Jonathan sat down in his chair, watching her with a knowing smile. "He was a handful, you know."

Kara glanced at him, curious. "Clark?"

Jonathan nodded. "Strong as an ox before he even knew what to do with all that power. Broke every tool on this farm at least once." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Had to teach him how to hold back. Hardest lesson for a boy who just wanted to help."

Kara imagined a young Kal-El struggling to fit in, just as she was now. The thought was strangely comforting.

Her gaze shifted to a more recent photograph. Clark, older now, standing beside a woman with dark hair and sharp eyes. They were both smiling, his arm wrapped around her. Kara's eyes went wide as she recognised the woman.

Martha walked in, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She followed Kara's line of sight and softened. "That's one of my favourites. Clark and Lois at their wedding."

Kara blinked, taken aback. "Wedding?"

Martha nodded. "They got married some years ago now."

Kara's brow furrowed. Kal-El was married? He hadn't mentioned it. She thought back, trying to recall. And then she realised something else.

Clark had been trying to get her to visit Metropolis for weeks now. Always suggesting she meet his friends, his family. Always patient when she said she wasn't ready.

He wanted her to meet them.

And she had been the one pushing away. The thought made her sad, perhaps she was ready to return to Metropolis after all.

"Dinners ready!" Clark called out moments later.

Kara watched as Clark placed the plates in front of everyone, serving himself last. The meal was strange to look at, three distinct portions arranged neatly on the plate. A pile of leafy greens, a smooth white mound, and a thick, dark piece of food at the center. It smelled… good. Warm, rich, slightly smoky.

She hesitated, eyeing the dark portion warily. The texture looked unfamiliar, but there was something about the scent that reminded her of home.

Clark sat down across from her, smiling. "Go on, try it."

Kara picked up the fork, an Earth eating tool, and copied how the others held it. She stabbed a small piece of the dark food, lifting it carefully to her mouth.

The flavour surprised her. It was tender, rich, and savoury, but there was a sweetness to it as well, from whatever seasoning Clark had used. She chewed slowly, thoughtful. The taste sparked a memory. Her father, preparing a rare synthetic dish for special occasions, a comforting bowl of steaming broth.

She swallowed and nodded. "Is… good," she admitted.

Kara took another bite, her expression thoughtful. "Tastes like… roh'tal broth," she murmured.

Clark looked up. "Roh'tal?"

She nodded, not knowing the English to explain. "It's a type of synthetic food. We created food on a molecular level. Everything was precise and had the exact nutrients needed. We ate this more than the plants back in your fortress. Well, not Roh'tal, but synth food in general."

Clark translated her words for the Kents, and taught Kara the words to convey what she said in English. Kara nodded her head in thanks and looked back to the Kents.

She gestured vaguely at the meal. "Plants rare. Hard to grow. People pay extra for them."

Johnathan raised a brow. "So most food wasn't grown at all?"

Kara shook her head. "No need. Synth food… always same. No waste, no shortage. Designed for Kryptonian health." She tapped her fork against the dark portion of food. "Roh'tal… very rare. My father made it sometimes, special occasions. This tastes almost same."

Clark leaned back, thinking. "Earth has synthetic food, but it's not that advanced. Some scientists are working on it, but most food comes from farms."

Kara frowned slightly. "Grown on farms…" She repeated the words, trying to piece it together. She glanced at her plate again, then back at Clark. "Strange. But… taste good."

Clark smiled. "Glad you think so."

As she ate, curiosity stirred. She pointed at the smooth white mound. "What this?"

"Mash potatoes," Clark said. "Remember the potato before?"

She scooped some onto her fork and tasted it. Soft. Creamy. It melted in her mouth, buttery and rich. She hummed in approval.

She turned to the leafy greens. "And this?"

"Salad. Different vegetables. Lettuce, tomato, carrots."

She chewed thoughtfully. Earth food had so many textures, so many flavours. It was more complicated than Kryptonian food, but she liked it.

Then, she tapped her fork against the dark slice again. "And this? What plant this from?"

Silence.

Kara looked up. Clark had frozen mid-bite. Martha and Jonathan exchanged a look.

"Oh, dear…" Martha muttered, placing her utensils down and looking out of sorts. Jonathan looked to Kara with concern and then to Clark, who was suddenly looking pale. If that was even possible.

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

Clark cleared his throat. "Uh… well…" He tugged on his shirt collar nervously. "That's not from a plant."

Kara blinked. "Not plant?"

Clark hesitated. "It's… meat."

Kara frowned. "Meat?" She repeated the word carefully. "Meat… like 'meet someone'?"

Clark shook his head quickly. "No, different word. Different meaning."

She looked down at her plate, suddenly wary. "Did I… break custom?" She asked hesitantly. "Do wrong again?"

Jonathan quickly shook his head. "No, sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong."

Martha sighed softly. "Clark, you need to explain."

Clark exhaled, rubbing his temple in worry. "Okay. So… you remember the cows from this morning?"

Kara nodded, the first animals she had seen on the farm, before meeting the 'little piggies'. "Yes. Cows make milk." She glanced at Jonathan. "You told me."

Clark's expression turned regretful. "Right. Some cows make milk. But… some are raised for their meat."

Kara tilted her head. "Meat…" She looked back at the dark portion on her plate. "You say not plant. If not plant, then…" Her voice trailed off as understanding dawned.

She stared at Clark. He winced.

Kara stared down at the half-eaten piece of food on her plate, her stomach twisting. It was no longer a warm, rich meal. It was flesh. Animal flesh.

Her hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the table. The taste lingered on her tongue, betrayal and revulsion rising in her throat. She had enjoyed it.

Her breath came sharp and uneven. "No…" She whispered.

"Kara-" Clark reached for her, but she pushed back from the table so quickly her chair scraped against the floor. She nearly stumbled in her haste, her pulse hammering in her ears.

"I... I need…" She couldn't finish. The room was too small, the scent of cooked flesh clinging to the air, making her stomach churn.

She turned and fled.

The screen door banged shut behind her as she stumbled into the open night, cold air burning her lungs. She barely made it to the nearest tree before she collapsed against it, fingers digging into the bark. Her stomach clenched, bile rising, and she heaved.

Clark found her moments later, hovering near as she vomited onto the grass.

"Kara…"

She gasped between ragged breaths, tears stinging her eyes. "I ate it," she choked. "I... I ate..." Another sob wracked through her.

Clark stepped closer, his voice gentle, but Kara flinched away. She couldn't look at him. Couldn't stand to see his face, full of regret that meant nothing now.

"I didn't know," he said. "I should have asked. I should have explained. I just wanted to show you what life here is like."

Kara squeezed her arms around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her unraveling mind. "Life?" She spat. "This not life. This… this death. You let them live, feed them, care for them, then you kill them." Her voice cracked on the last word.

Clark didn't argue. He just stood there, watching her with a sorrowful expression, like he knew there was nothing he could say to make this better.

A sob wrenched itself from her throat.

Killing an animal. On Krypton, it was unthinkable. It was murder. The worst crime a person could commit. The idea that she had taken part in it. No, worse, that she had enjoyed it. Made her want to claw the taste from her tongue.

Her stomach twisted again, bile rising, but there was nothing left to throw up.

She wiped at her mouth with a shaking hand. "I eat it," She whispered. The words burned like acid. "I- I ate…"

Clark swallowed. "I'm sorry, Kara..."

She let out a strangled cry, pushing away from the tree. Her gaze darted across the farm, searching, frantic. Until she saw them. The pigs. The ones she had watched that morning, so full of life.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

She moved before she could think, sprinting toward the pen.

"Kara, wait-"

She ignored him, vaulting over the fence in a single motion. The pigs stirred at her sudden presence, snuffling curiously as she fumbled with the gate latch. Her fingers were clumsy, shaking too hard to focus. She tore the gate off with one shaky tear.

"Kara, stop." Clark was behind her now, voice firm but pleading. "You can't take them."

Her breath hitched. "They will die."

Clark hesitated. "I know."

She turned to him, eyes burning. "Then help me. The fortress… I can…"

His expression softened, but he didn't move. "Kara… they won't survive out there. It's too cold."

She gritted her teeth, chest rising and falling in shallow, panicked breaths.

"They do not deserve this," She whispered.

"I know," Clark said again. "But this is how Earth is. People, most people, don't see it the way you do."

She shook her head, vision blurring. This world was cruel. Its people barbaric.

Her voice broke as she whispered, "I want to go home." But there was no home. Krypton was gone.

Her breath hitched, her eyes stinging.

Clark stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Kara, please. Come back inside. We can talk about this. I'll- I'll make it right."

She let out a short, bitter laugh. "Make right?" She turned to face him fully, floating a few inches off the ground now. "How? Will you stop them? Will you tell them no more?"

Clark hesitated. His silence was answer enough.

Kara swallowed past the lump in her throat, lifting higher into the air. The pigs below shifted nervously, sensing the tension, but they were unaware of the doom hanging over them.

"This world is cruel," she said, voice shaking. "You let this happen. All of you. Like it normal."

"Kara-"

She clenched her fists, her whole body trembling. "Barbarians," She cursed in Kryptonian.

Then she shot into the sky, leaving Clark standing alone in the dirt.

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

Clark sat in the Watchtower's lounge, staring out at the Earth below. His hands were clasped together, elbows resting on his knees. Across from him, Bruce and Diana listened in silence as he recounted the night's events.

When he finished, there was a beat of quiet. Then Bruce exhaled through his nose. "You should've seen this coming."

Clark shot him a tired look. "I know."

Bruce folded his arms. "Kryptonians were an advanced society. Of course their relationship with food would be different. You assumed she'd just… adapt?"

Clark rubbed his face. "I didn't think."

Diana placed a hand on his shoulder, gentler than Bruce but no less firm. "She is grieving, Clark. She's lost everything, and now she's seeing a world that is so unlike her own, one that offends the values she was raised with."

Clark sighed. "I just wanted to share something good with her. Instead, I-"

Diana squeezed his shoulder. "You didn't fail her, Clark. She just needs time."

Clark let out a slow breath, but Bruce wasn't as forgiving. He leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "She called humans barbarians."

Clark's stomach twisted at the memory. "She was upset."

"She meant it," Bruce countered. "And she's not wrong to feel that way. We are capable of cruelty." His gaze flickered to the planet below, as if seeing every war, every injustice, every crime all at once. "But if she can't see beyond that… If she refuses to-"

Clark's hands curled into fists. "She's not like that."

Bruce raised a brow. "Are you sure?"

Clark opened his mouth, then hesitated. Because the truth was, he didn't know.

"She is not lost to you," Diana said, cutting through the tension. "But she is lost. And right now, she does not need judgment. She needs understanding."

Clark stared at the floor, his mind replaying Kara's horrified expression, the way she recoiled, the way she flew off like Earth itself had betrayed her.

"I just… I want her to see the good here," He murmured.

Diana smiled, warm and knowing. "Then show her."

Bruce let out a quiet sigh. "She's young. She'll be angry for a while, but anger fades." His voice softened, just a fraction. "Don't let her face it alone."

Clark took a deep breath, feeling the weight on his chest ease just a little. "I won't."

Diana nodded. "Good."

Bruce stood. "The world's cruel, Clark. It always has been. But you make it better. If anyone can show Kara there's something worth believing in, it's you."

Clark managed a small smile. "Yeah."

Hope. He had to hold onto it. For Kara's sake.