Jump City — Rooftop, Late Afternoon
The sun slanted low over Jump City, streaking the glass towers in molten gold and deep orange. On a ten-story rooftop overlooking the bay, five heroes sprawled in what could only be described as a crime-fighter's picnic — discarded Big Belly Burger wrappers fluttering in the evening breeze, soda cups lined up like trophies of conquest.
At the center of their loose circle, Hadrian — Solaris — sat cross-legged in full regalia, the black-to-deep-red suit gleaming faintly in the sunset. His golden gauntlets caught the light like captured fire, and his crimson cape trailed lazily behind him, draped over the ledge like a royal banner. His emerald eyes, sharp and calculating, stayed fixed on the double cheeseburger in his hands as though daring it to defy him. There was something about the way he held himself — relaxed but alert, casual but commanding — that screamed natural leader. Even eating fast food, he looked like he belonged on the cover of Sports Illustrated.
"You know," Hadrian said, his voice carrying that warm, quarterback confidence that made people want to follow him into battle, "I never thought I'd miss Kansas food until we started patrolling here."
Next to him, Wally — Kid Flash — sat cross-legged as well, bouncing slightly with barely contained energy. His yellow cowl was pushed back, red hair sticking up in seventeen different directions like he'd been electrocuted. His freckled face was animated with that manic enthusiasm that made him look younger than his fourteen years. His voice, already two notches louder than necessary, carried across the roof with infectious energy.
"Are you kidding me?" Wally exclaimed around a mouthful of fries, gesturing wildly with his hands like he was conducting an orchestra. "Kansas food is corn and more corn! Like, I get it, it's the heartland, but dude — these Jump City burgers are like... like culinary miracles! They put something in 'em here. Science. Magic. Fairy dust. Don't care. It's addictive."
Neville — Sentinel — leaned against the air duct with his arms folded, his imposing frame making the industrial structure look small. At six-foot-four with shoulders that could block out the sun, he was built like a linebacker who'd been carved from granite. The black suit with red-and-gold piping made him look more like a knight than a quarterback, and his pale green eyes slid to Wally with that dry, dangerous calm only Neville Kent could deliver.
"They put salt in them," Neville said flatly, his voice carrying the kind of deadpan delivery that could stop a charging rhino. "It's called salt, West."
"That's what they want you to think," Wally shot back, wagging a fry like it was crucial evidence in a court case. "But I've done the research, big guy. My metabolism processes food faster than a NASA computer. I can taste the difference between regular salt and... enhanced salt."
Dick — Robin — sat on the edge of the building, one leg dangling over empty air with the casual confidence of someone who'd been defying death since he was nine. His staff was collapsed but still in his hands, twirling idly as he chuckled under his breath. Even sitting still, there was something coiled about him — like a spring waiting to be released.
"Don't encourage him," Dick said, smirking behind his domino mask. "West already bounces more than a basketball at a Lakers game."
"Hey," Wally countered, cramming another fry in his mouth with theatrical indignation, "fast metabolism equals peak performance. Peak performance requires peak carbs. Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful and functional."
Kaldur — Aqualad — sat a little off to the side, eating slowly and deliberately with the kind of measured grace that suggested royal upbringing. The orange-and-black armor he wore glinted in the light, and his calm demeanor was a stark contrast to Wally's chaos. He exhaled through his nose with a faint, indulgent smile.
"You are many things, Wally," Kaldur said in his calm baritone, the accent lending weight to each word. "But subtle is not one of them."
"Thank you!" Wally grinned, as though he hadn't understood a word but assumed it was a compliment.
Neville tore open his second wrapper with a faint smirk, the sound crisp in the evening air. "Bank job today was sloppy. Almost feel bad for them."
"Almost?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow.
"They picked the wrong town," Hadrian finally spoke, voice low and warm, with just enough steel underneath to remind everyone he meant every word. "And the wrong night."
Dick arched an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Spoken like a quarterback in the fourth quarter."
Hadrian allowed himself a faint grin as he bit into the burger. "And you're all still on my team. Lucky you."
"Team?" Wally snorted, bouncing a little as he talked. "We're a family, man. A really good-looking, crime-fighting family."
"With really good reflexes," Dick added, catching a napkin that the wind tried to steal without even looking.
"And really good coordination," Kaldur added thoughtfully. "The synchronization we displayed today was... impressive. Like watching a school of fish move as one."
"Fish?" Neville raised an eyebrow. "I prefer wolves."
"Wolves don't fly," Wally pointed out, then paused. "Wait, do they? Because that would be awesome and terrifying."
"Neither do fish," Dick countered.
"Flying fish do," Kaldur said mildly.
"Those don't count," Wally protested. "They glide. That's like saying I fly when I jump really high."
"You do jump really high," Dick observed.
"That's momentum, not flight. There's a difference."
"What's the difference?" Neville asked, genuinely curious.
"Flight implies control," Hadrian said, hovering about two inches off the roof just to prove his point. "Momentum is just... really good falling."
"See?" Wally pointed at him. "Captain Laser Eyes gets it."
"Captain Laser Eyes?" Hadrian's eyebrow twitched.
"I'm workshopping nicknames," Wally said defensively. "What about Solar Flare? Sun God? The Emerald Avenger?"
"My eyes are green, not my powers," Hadrian pointed out.
"Details," Wally waved dismissively. "I'll figure it out."
Hadrian shook his head, though the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. "You're all insane. It's a good thing I like you."
"Lucky us," Neville said dryly.
Wally was halfway through his shake when his eyes caught on the empty spot in their circle. The energy drained from his face slightly, his perpetual motion slowing to a stop. "Still feels weird without Conner here."
That earned a couple quiet nods before Neville snorted. "Weird? It's peaceful. Nobody glowering at the burger like it insulted his ancestors."
"He doesn't glower," Hadrian said, though his defense was halfhearted.
"He absolutely glowers," Dick said. "It's like his default expression. Glower, scowl, occasionally brood."
"The guy's got resting angry face," Wally added. "Like, permanently."
"Perhaps it is simply concentration," Kaldur suggested diplomatically.
"Concentration on what? The burger?" Wally asked. "Because I've seen him stare at food like it was gonna fight back."
"Maybe it was," Neville said with a straight face.
Hadrian shook his head faintly, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "He's working. If he's going to enroll at school, he needs to pass the entrance tests. You can punch a tank all day, doesn't mean you can pass algebra."
Wally grimaced, his face screwing up like he'd tasted something awful. "Man, algebra is way harder than tanks. At least tanks make sense. They're big, they're metal, you hit them until they stop moving. Algebra is just... numbers pretending to be letters."
"That's... not actually how algebra works," Dick said slowly.
"See? Confusing!"
"It's about finding unknown values," Kaldur explained patiently. "The letters represent variables—"
"Stop," Wally held up a hand. "You're making it worse."
"How is explaining it making it worse?"
"Because now it sounds even more fake!"
Dick leaned back on his palms, his expression thoughtful. "Still feels like we should've at least dragged him along. This is supposed to be boys' night."
"Boys' night with burgers and brooding," Wally added. "Though I guess we're covering the brooding part ourselves."
"Who's brooding?" Neville asked.
"You are," Wally, Dick, and Kaldur said in unison.
"I'm not brooding," Neville protested. "I'm thinking."
"About what?" Hadrian asked.
"About how many ways this city could go to hell in the next five minutes."
"That's brooding," Dick said definitively.
"That's tactical awareness," Neville corrected.
"That's paranoia," Wally added helpfully.
Neville shrugged, the motion casual but somehow intimidating. "He'll survive. Barely."
Hadrian's eyes glimmered faintly as he muttered just loud enough for them to hear: "Better. He'll prove he belongs in more ways than one."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dick asked.
"It means," Hadrian said, taking another bite of his burger, "that sometimes you have to earn your place twice. Once with your fists, once with your mind."
"Deep," Wally said. "Also, can we talk about how weird it is that we're all sitting on a roof eating burgers in costume?"
"What's weird about it?" Kaldur asked.
"Normal people don't do this," Wally gestured vaguely at their setup. "Normal people eat inside. At tables. Without masks."
"Normal people don't stop bank robberies either," Dick pointed out.
"Fair point," Wally conceded. "Still weird though."
"Weird is relative," Hadrian said. "This is just... Tuesday."
"Tuesday with a side of justice," Neville added.
"And really good fries," Wally added, holding one up like a trophy.
The quiet that followed was broken only by Wally slurping the last of his soda obnoxiously.
"Dude," Dick said, "that's disgusting."
"What? It's efficient!"
"It's loud."
"Everything I do is loud. It's part of my charm."
"Like a foghorn," Kaldur said with a smile.
"Hey, foghorns are useful! They warn ships about danger."
"Exactly my point," Kaldur said smoothly.
"Are you calling me dangerous?" Wally asked, brightening.
"I'm calling you loud," Kaldur clarified.
"I can work with loud."
Before Wally could formulate a better comeback, a sharp chirp cut through the evening air like a knife. All five of them froze, their casual demeanor evaporating instantly.
—-
Wally froze mid-slurp, his eyes going wide. "Oh come on. Please tell me that's not what I think it is."
A calm, metallic voice — low, steady, faintly synthesized — filled their ears through their communicators. The tone was precise, almost clinical, but there was something underneath it that suggested vast intelligence and careful calculation.
"Jump City team, this is Watchtower. Priority alert. A foreign object has entered Earth's atmosphere."
Hadrian was already straightening, burger forgotten, emerald eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon. His entire posture shifted in a heartbeat — casual quarterback becoming field general, relaxed leader becoming tactical commander.
"Trajectory?" he asked, his tone even but edged with authority.
"Projected impact zone: within five miles of your current position. Estimated time to impact: three minutes."
Robin was on his feet in a blink, tucking his last fry into his belt like he could save it for later. "Guess lunch is over."
"I wasn't finished," Wally protested, but he was already standing, his earlier lethargy replaced by electric anticipation.
Kaldur stood as well, his water bearers already shimmering faintly with contained energy. "Do we have a visual?"
Red Tornado's voice never wavered, maintaining that precise, almost mechanical cadence. "Negative. Object is emitting irregular energy signatures inconsistent with any known meteor, satellite, or spacecraft. Origin unknown. Recommend immediate interception and containment."
"Containment," Neville repeated, standing and cracking his knuckles. His grin was faint but predatory. "So... we hitting it? Or catching it?"
"Catching sounds safer," Wally said, then paused. "For the city, I mean. I'm good either way."
"Since when do you care about safe?" Dick asked, extending his staff with a sharp snap.
"Since I realized I have to live here too," Wally shot back.
Hadrian rose an inch off the roof, his cape fluttering as his golden gauntlets caught the light. When he spoke, his voice carried that natural command that made people want to follow him — calm, measured, but with steel underneath.
"We see what it is," Hadrian said evenly. "Then we decide."
"What if it's hostile?" Kaldur asked, though his tone suggested he was already preparing for that possibility.
"Then we handle it," Hadrian said simply. "Together."
"I vote for catching," Wally said, bouncing on his toes. "Catching sounds way cooler than hitting."
"Everything sounds cooler when you're moving at light speed," Dick pointed out.
"Not light speed," Wally corrected. "Just really, really fast. There's a difference."
"What's the difference?" Neville asked.
"About six hundred million miles per hour," Wally said cheerfully.
"That's... actually impressive that you know that," Dick said.
"I know lots of things," Wally said proudly. "I just don't usually need to use them."
"Focus," Hadrian said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed. "Red Tornado, any idea what we're dealing with?"
"Negative. Energy signature is unlike anything in our databases. Recommend extreme caution."
"Extreme caution," Wally repeated. "That's like, the opposite of my middle name."
"What is your middle name?" Kaldur asked.
"Danger," Wally said without hesitation.
"Your middle name is not Danger," Dick said flatly.
"It could be," Wally protested. "You don't know my life."
"I know your file," Dick said. "Your middle name is Richard."
"That's... actually worse than I thought," Neville said.
"Hey!" Wally protested. "There's nothing wrong with Richard!"
"You're named after Grayson," Neville pointed out.
"What's wrong with being named after me?" Dick asked, mock-offended.
"Nothing," Wally said quickly. "I just... I wanted to be named after someone cooler."
"Who's cooler than me?" Dick asked.
"Lots of people," Wally said. "Like... Superman. Or Batman. Or... or that guy who invented pizza."
"You wanted to be named after the guy who invented pizza?" Kaldur asked, clearly trying not to laugh.
"Pizza is important," Wally said defensively.
Above them, a streak of fire was becoming visible against the darkening sky — faint at first, but growing brighter, closer, every second. The object was moving fast, too fast for most human eyes to track, but Hadrian's enhanced vision caught every detail.
"Team," he said, his voice cutting through their banter like a blade. "Move."
And just like that, they fell in step.
Kid Flash vanished in a yellow blur, the wind snapping his empty wrappers away like confetti. The sound of his departure was like a sonic boom in miniature.
Robin snapped his staff open with a metallic click that echoed across the rooftop, his movements fluid and precise.
Kaldur summoned two blades of shimmering water in each hand, his calm replaced by quiet determination. The water seemed to move with a life of its own, responding to his will.
Neville tightened his gauntlets, the faint crackle of energy dancing between his knuckles like caged lightning. His expression had shifted from casual to focused, dangerous.
Above them, the fireball roared closer now, the heat of it faint even from here. The object was definitely not natural — the energy readings were off the charts, and the trajectory was too controlled for random debris.
Hadrian hovered just above them, his black-and-red figure cutting a sharp silhouette against the sky. The gold House of El crest burned bright against his chest, his emerald eyes glinting as he clenched his fist.
"Let's greet our visitor," he said, his voice a promise — equal parts invitation and warning.
And then they launched into the sky as one.
The wind whipped around them as they rose, five figures against the dying light. Kid Flash ran vertically up the side of the adjacent building, his yellow trail streaking behind him like a comet. Robin fired his grappling hook, swinging between buildings with acrobatic precision that would have made circus performers weep with envy. Kaldur called upon the moisture in the air, creating a platform of water that carried him upward with impossible grace. Neville's flight was more direct, powering through the air with raw force that made the wind itself seem to get out of his way.
And Hadrian led them all, cape streaming behind him like a banner, eyes locked on the approaching object with laser focus.
"Whatever this is," he called back to them, his voice carrying over the wind, "we handle it together."
"Copy that, boss," Dick called back, his grin audible even over the rushing air.
"Just like practice," Kaldur added, his voice steady and calm.
"Except with more explosions," Wally shouted, his voice dopplering as he changed direction mid-run.
"There better not be explosions," Neville growled, his voice carrying despite the wind.
"There are always explosions," Wally shot back. "That's like, rule number one of superhero work."
"Rule number one is don't get civilians hurt," Dick corrected.
"That's rule number two," Wally argued. "Rule number one is look cool while doing it."
"Those are terrible rules," Kaldur said.
"They're working so far," Wally replied.
As they climbed higher, the object became clearer. It wasn't a meteor or satellite — it was something else entirely. Something that glowed with an inner light, something that moved with purpose rather than the random tumble of space debris.
"Red Tornado," Hadrian called into his communicator, "are you seeing this?"
"Affirmative. Energy signatures are intensifying. Recommend maintaining safe distance until we can determine intent."
"Safe distance," Wally repeated. "Define safe."
"Preferably not within explosion range," Red Tornado replied with what might have been dry humor.
"That's helpful," Neville said flatly.
"I aim to please," Red Tornado responded.
The object was definitely slowing now, its trajectory becoming more controlled. Whatever this was, it wasn't crashing — it was landing.
"Guys," Dick said, his voice tight with concentration as he swung closer, "I don't think this is random space junk."
"What makes you say that?" Hadrian asked, though his tone suggested he'd already reached the same conclusion.
"Because space junk doesn't usually glow purple and change direction mid-flight."
"Purple?" Wally asked, vibrating with excitement. "That's either really good or really bad."
"With our luck?" Neville said. "Probably both."
As they drew closer, the object's true nature became clear. It was a pod of some kind, sleek and organic-looking, with energy crackling along its surface like captured lightning. And it was definitely, absolutely, completely alien.
"Well," Hadrian said, his voice carrying that calm authority that made everyone feel like everything was going to be okay, "this should be interesting."
"Interesting," Kaldur repeated. "That's one word for it."
"I prefer 'exciting,'" Wally said, practically bouncing in midair.
"I prefer 'contained,'" Neville said.
"I prefer 'not about to explode,'" Dick added.
The pod hit the ground with surprising gentleness, settling into a small crater in the middle of what had once been a perfectly maintained park. Steam rose from its surface, and the purple glow was fading, replaced by something that looked almost like... breathing.
"Is it just me," Wally said, his voice unusually quiet, "or does that thing look alive?"
"It's not just you," Hadrian said, landing softly about twenty feet from the pod. "Everyone stay back until we know what we're dealing with."
"What if it's friendly?" Wally asked.
"What if it's not?" Neville countered.
"Then we do what we do best," Hadrian said simply.
"Which is?" Dick asked.
"Improvise," Hadrian said with a slight smile.
The pod made a sound then — a soft hiss, like air escaping from a sealed container. Seams appeared along its surface, glowing with that same purple light, and then...
It opened.
"Okay," Wally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Now it's officially interesting."
"Stay ready," Hadrian said, his emerald eyes fixed on the pod. "Whatever comes out, we handle it together."
"Together," Kaldur agreed.
"Together," Dick confirmed.
"Together," Neville said, though his tone suggested he was ready for trouble.
"Together," Wally added, and for once, he wasn't bouncing.
The pod finished opening, and from within came a sound that was definitely, unmistakably, alive.
Whatever was about to emerge would change everything.
But for now, they waited as one — five heroes ready to face the unknown, whatever it might bring.
—
The purple-lit seams of the pod hissed and split, steam billowing out in thick, curling tendrils that caught the park's amber streetlights like ghostly fingers.
The five of them stood in loose formation just outside the shallow crater — Wally slightly ahead of the others (of course), bouncing on the balls of his feet like he was waiting for the starting gun at a track meet. Neville positioned himself just behind Hadrian's left shoulder, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the scorched earth, pale green eyes scanning for threats with military precision. Robin crouched with his staff at the ready, cape billowing slightly in the night breeze, while Kaldur stood with water blades shimmering faintly in each hand, the liquid catching the purple glow from the pod.
Hadrian hovered just an inch off the ground, his emerald eyes locked on the pod as it finished opening with a faint *shunk* that echoed across the crater.
Then… silence.
The kind of silence that made everyone's skin crawl.
"Well," Wally said after a beat, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife through butter, "that's not ominous at all. Should I be worried, or is this just another Tuesday in Jump City?"
Neville's jaw flexed, the muscle twitching as his pale green eyes narrowed. "Could still be a bomb. Or a trap." His voice carried that flat, military tone that meant he was already calculating escape routes and defensive positions. "We should maintain distance."
"Or," Dick interjected, twirling his staff with practiced ease, a cocky grin spreading across his face, "it's a really weird door prize. First one to touch it wins a mysterious alien artifact. I call dibs."
"Not helping," Hadrian murmured, though his tone carried more amusement than reprimand. His emerald eyes never left the pod, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
"I'm always helping," Dick shot back. "My help just comes with a side of irreverent charm."
"Your help comes with a side of getting us all killed," Wally muttered, though he was grinning.
And then something moved.
A slender figure rose from the pod's interior, framed by the swirling steam and faint purple glow like something out of a dream — or a nightmare, depending on your perspective.
Wally actually stepped back, his eyes widening. "Okay, that's new. And by new, I mean potentially terrifying."
The girl who emerged looked about their age — fifteen, maybe sixteen — but that's where "normal" stopped and "holy crap" began.
Her skin gleamed a deep, burnished orange that caught the park lights like polished copper, seeming to glow from within. Her long, fiery red hair tumbled in waves halfway down her back, swaying as she stood to her full height — which was notably taller than anyone expected, probably close to six feet. Her eyes… her eyes were all green. No whites, no irises — just twin orbs of glowing, emerald-green light that seemed to pierce straight through whatever they looked at.
She wore a sleek bodysuit in metallic purple and silver that clung to her like a second skin — less "battle armor" and more like something designed by someone who understood that intimidation came in many forms. Her legs went on for days, her shoulders squared as though she owned the planet she'd just landed on.
She stepped down out of the pod with a grace that left even Kaldur blinking once, moving like a predator who'd never known fear.
"Okay…" Dick muttered, leaning toward Hadrian without taking his eyes off her. "Is she hot, or is this one of those situations where it's rude to notice? Because I'm getting mixed signals from my brain right now."
"Your brain always gives you mixed signals," Wally whispered back. "That's why you wear a mask."
Hadrian didn't answer, though his jaw did tighten slightly as the alien girl turned her glowing green eyes on him specifically, as if she could see something in him that the others couldn't.
She tried to speak — a series of lilting, musical syllables that sounded like wind chimes mixed with distant thunder. Beautiful, but completely unintelligible.
"Uh," Wally said eloquently, raising his hand like he was in class, "yeah, sorry, my universal translator's still back at the lab. Right next to my respect for personal space and my ability to not make terrible jokes at inappropriate times."
"I do not recognize the language," Kaldur said simply, though there was the faintest crease of concern on his brow. "It does not match any Earth dialect in my knowledge."
"Same," Neville said, his tone clipped and professional. His fists flexed, but he held his ground. "Should we try to subdue her? She might be hostile." His pale green eyes tracked her every movement. "Better safe than sorry."
"She doesn't look hostile," Wally said hopefully, though he was already inching behind Hadrian. "I mean, she's not shooting lasers or trying to eat our faces. That's a good sign, right?"
"The bar for 'good sign' has gotten disturbingly low," Dick observed.
The girl tried again, her voice growing more insistent, but still unintelligible. She stepped closer — toward Hadrian specifically — her eyes narrowing faintly in frustration. There was something almost desperate in her expression.
Hadrian floated down fully to the ground, his boots touching the scorched earth as he met her gaze evenly. His emerald eyes locked on hers as he spoke, calm but firm.
"It's okay," he said, his voice carrying that quiet authority that made people listen. "We're not here to hurt you. We just don't understand."
The girl froze, tilting her head like a bird hearing a new song. Her glowing eyes studied his face with an intensity that made the air itself seem to crackle.
And then she moved faster than anyone could react.
She grabbed Hadrian by the collar of his suit and kissed him full on the mouth.
"Whoa—HEY!" Wally yelped, his hands flying up like he was surrendering to an invisible army. "That's—WHAT IS HAPPENING?! Is this normal? Please tell me this isn't normal!"
Even Robin blinked, his staff lowering slightly as his cocky grin turned into something more like bewildered amusement. "Well. That's… bold. And possibly assault. I can't tell if I should be impressed or concerned."
"Concerned," Kaldur said quietly, though he made no move to intervene. "But perhaps… patient."
Neville actually took a step forward, his broad shoulders tensing. "What the hell is she—" His voice carried that dangerous edge that meant someone was about to get hurt.
But Hadrian didn't move. Too stunned — or too polite — to push her away, he stood there as she kissed him hard, her hands fisting in the golden piping of his suit, her eyes glowing brighter as if she was… absorbing something from him.
The kiss went on. And on.
And on.
"Uh," Wally finally said, his voice climbing an octave, "should we… do something? Like, stop it? Or get popcorn? I can't tell what the protocol is here, and I'm starting to feel like a voyeur, which is not a good look for me."
"Let him handle it," Robin said with an easy smirk, though his eyes were sharp and calculating. "Looks like he's handling it just fine. Besides, interrupting might be diplomatically problematic."
"Diplomatically problematic," Neville repeated flatly. "Right. Because alien girl molesting my twin brother is a diplomatic situation."
"Everything's diplomatic if you're creative enough," Dick shot back.
Kaldur just watched, his expression unreadable. "There may be more to this than it appears."
Finally — finally — the girl pulled back. Her hair shifted slightly around her shoulders as she exhaled, still gripping Hadrian's collar lightly. Her glowing eyes seemed less frantic now, more focused.
She blinked once, twice… then spoke again.
In perfect, clear English.
"I apologize," she said, her voice melodic but now fully understandable, carrying an accent that sounded vaguely European but not quite. "I required… your language. I have now acquired it."
She released Hadrian's suit and stepped back, her eyes still on him, though now there was something like gratitude mixed with the intensity.
Hadrian blinked once, his expression carefully neutral, though the faintest color had risen to his cheeks. He reached up and adjusted his collar with deliberate calm.
"You could have just asked," he said dryly.
The girl tilted her head, and for a moment she looked almost confused. "You would not have understood the question."
"Fair," Hadrian conceded, his mouth quirking upward slightly. "Though in the future, a little warning might be nice."
Wally leaned in, whispering loudly to Dick. "Sooo… is this the start of a love story, or should we call HR? Because I'm pretty sure there's paperwork for this kind of situation."
Dick smirked. "Definitely HR. And also probably her parents. And possibly the State Department."
"Do aliens have parents?" Wally wondered aloud.
"Do you ever stop talking?" Neville muttered under his breath. "This day just keeps getting weirder."
Kaldur finally spoke, stepping forward slightly with the measured grace of someone trained in diplomacy. "If you now speak our language, perhaps you can tell us your name. And why you are here." He gestured to the crater around them. "Your arrival was… dramatic."
The girl's glowing eyes swept over all of them — Wally still half-hiding behind Hadrian, Dick leaning on his staff with casual confidence, Neville standing like a statue carved from stone, Kaldur with his hands still wreathed in water — before returning to Hadrian.
She nodded once, a gesture that somehow carried weight.
"My name," she said, her voice carrying a strange kind of authority, "is Koriand'r. I am a princess of Tamaran." She paused, and her expression grew darker. "I… am in need of assistance."
She looked around at the five of them — then back to Hadrian, her glowing eyes meeting his emerald ones.
"And it appears," she added softly, "I have found the right people."
Hadrian met her gaze, his emerald eyes steady and unafraid. Around them, the night seemed to hold its breath.
"Then," he said calmly, "let's talk."
Wally raised his hand. "Quick question — when you say 'princess,' are we talking Disney princess or Game of Thrones princess? Because the answer affects how worried I should be."
"Wally," Hadrian said without looking away from Koriand'r.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
"Shutting up."
But the grin on his face suggested he wasn't done asking questions. Not by a long shot.
---
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