Weekend. Gotham City.
Heaven by day. Hell by night.
The upheaval that had followed Batman's disappearance was gradually settling. Dick Grayson was pouring everything he had into the role—anyone could see that—but he wasn't Bruce.
Thea had used the window to strike from both ends, legitimate and otherwise. Batches of criminals had been loaded onto transport ships and hauled off-world.
The Penguin, for instance—one of Batman's oldest adversaries—was currently mining coal on a planet five light-years from Earth.
The major crime families had been swept through several times. Key lieutenants and senior operatives were gone. What remained—the small-timers, the street-level operators—was being comprehensively dealt with by Barbara's Birds of Prey, the new Batman Dick Grayson, and Damian's Robin.
Gotham was, at this precise moment, the safest it had been in living memory. A new wave of criminals would inevitably rise to claim territory and establish new chains of command—but that was a problem for later.
"Welcome, Thea, Diana!"
As Bruce's older cousin, Kate Kane had resources to match her lineage. Her villa sat in the heart of Gotham's wealthy district—nothing like Wayne Manor, which only had an elderly butler. It was staffed properly, with a footman who held the car door open as they arrived.
Thea had dressed in a plaid chiffon blouse with a camel midi skirt and heeled pumps. Diana wore a white lace-cut dress with black pointed heels. The two of them stepped out arm in arm, faces relaxed and bright.
Batwoman, waiting at the door, had left the red-and-black tactical suit at home. She stood in an elegant, leisurely dress, looking like a woman of considerable refinement—and far younger than the perpetually grim Bruce.
Thea and Diana each exchanged a brief embrace with her before Thea said, amused, "Crime in Gotham is actually down. I was half-expecting to have to throw a punch before we even got here."
"Ha! Let the young ones handle Gotham from here on. I might just retire." Kate laughed softly.
A few more pleasantries, and they all moved inside.
The secretary and Poison Ivy had already arrived—they waved briefly from across the room before everyone drifted into separate conversations.
Shortly after, the Danvers sisters entered, followed by Yavara and Cassie.
Alex's partner, Maggie Sawyer, had a gentle smile and a quiet, unshakeable conviction in her bearing—effortlessly magnetic. Kate's partner, Renee Montoya—the future Question—said little, but carried herself with a bone-deep refusal to bend. Both women were civilians. Both were cops. Both had been openly out for years. They had more to talk about than most people in the room.
Kara had clearly had help getting dressed. She was in a camisole top that left her shoulders and arms bare, a blue midi skirt, crystal heels—polished, feminine, entirely unlike her usual unremarkable outfits. Lena's work, obviously.
Thea watched her scanning the room like she was expecting something to jump out at her—holding her designer clutch like someone holding a brick. What are you so nervous about? Do you think Superman's going to come leaping out of a hedge? She circled around quietly and tapped Kara on the shoulder from behind.
"Hey, Kara!"
The girl spun around fast, clearly startled—then melted with visible relief when she saw who it was.
"How's it going with Lena? You two settling in well?"
"It's good, but she keeps managing me..." Kara pouted.
Thea laughed and patted her shoulder. Someone sensible absolutely needs to keep an eye on this one. Without someone like that, she'd drift through life entirely.
The gathering was primarily for Kara, Alex, and Lena—three people who needed their footing steadied. The veterans had seen it all before. Kate said a few words as host and opened up the floor.
As one of the League's founding members, and someone who'd always treated Kara as a younger sister, Thea stepped up to add something.
"We're gathered here today to celebrate a few people who found each other. Love has no borders, and no gender. It is full of goodwill. When two hearts meet, they give us strength we didn't know we had. Love isn't a burden. It's a gift."
She snapped her fingers.
The villa rippled. The air shimmered. Before anyone had fully processed what was happening, the room was gone—and in its place stood a city of gleaming metal that went on to the horizon. Patrol ships moved overhead. A monument anchored the central plaza. Every detail radiated incomprehensible technological advancement.
No one in the room was an idiot. This entire gathering had clearly been arranged with Kara in mind—she was the only alien present—and the look on Kara's face settled any remaining doubt. The others only needed a moment.
Krypton.
"This is Krypton," Thea confirmed. "It's reconstructed with holographic technology. Take Lena and explore."
She'd put significant work into building it. Through the Ibn Trade Consortium, she'd tracked down a handful of people who had personally visited Krypton. Their memories had been collated into a composite simulation, then Lobo had stress-tested it against his own extensive familiarity with the planet—having torn through it more than once. The accuracy was rated at ninety-nine percent. Fiora had personally reviewed the final version and found nothing wrong. For someone who had only been ten years old when she left, Kara would never notice any minor gaps.
Kara was already pulling Lena through the streets. The others followed at a comfortable distance.
They could still hear her—narrating, explaining. This house belonged to so-and-so. There was a wonderful shop just down this road. Lena listened with her whole self, asking questions, wanting everything. They walked and talked and laughed together.
"Can't you take her back to Krypton before it was destroyed?" Diana murmured to Thea.
"Too complicated," Thea said quietly. "That moment has too many threads attached. We shouldn't touch it."
Since taking on the role of Time Manager, she'd come to understand how many secrets time contained. The Council could only do patchwork at the margins. Ordinary human affairs were manageable. Anything beyond her own current tier—everything beyond her level was a blackout. Someone far above had clearly decided certain things were not to be seen. Krypton fell into that category. She knew better than to push.
The hologram was enough. Kara knew it wasn't real—and she didn't need it to be. Seeing home again, in whatever form, was more than enough.
Kara threw herself into the simulation with everything she had. She came out exhausted, but exhilarated. By the time they started singing later that night, Lena was already flagging.
Thea, as an arts goddess, had a voice that transcended anything naturally possible. She didn't use it to dominate. She and Diana sang one song together and gracefully stepped back, handing the stage to Kara.
What no one expected: Kara was genuinely, remarkably talented. The songs she chose were beautiful—raw and clear and lovely. She informed the room cheerfully, with absolute conviction, that her name contained "Kara" — which was basically karaoke—and clearly this had been the plan all along.
With her heart finally anchored, her direction finally clear, Supergirl stepped out of the fog she'd been wandering in and into something unmistakably, entirely her own.