Bubble Boy

The sun had long dipped behind the Argentum peaks.

The mountains were quiet now, humming with the residual energy of gods at play. One by one, the heroes had departed, some teleporting away, others vanishing into streaks of light or shadow.

Starman remained, standing near the shattered arena floor, gazing toward the stars just beginning to flicker above the horizon.

He turned to leave.

"You're not going yet, are you?"

The voice was firm. Feminine. Familiar.

Starman turned.

Blaze stepped from the shadows between the boulders. Her armor shimmered faintly with residual heat, though her expression was cool. Focused.

"Blaze," Starman said evenly.

"I need to talk to you. Alone."

He studied her, then gave a small nod. "Go on."

She stepped forward, the air around her warping gently with heat. "I'm not just a hero who can fire laser beams. I'm Xyphorite."

Starman's eyes narrowed. His body tensed but he didn't move.

"I was born there," she continued. "Bred in the gene-chambers under House Threxus. I defected years ago. Took my chances on Earth."

"Why tell me this now?" Starman asked. "You've hidden it all this time."

"Because Xypho is dying," she said. "Your uncle sits on the throne, and he's poisoning it. The people live under shadow and fear. Dissenters are executed. The royal line is gone, except for you."

He turned away slightly, jaw tight. "Go on."

Blaze stepped closer. "You're the last prince of Xypho, and the only one strong enough to challenge him. You could save an entire world."

He stayed silent.

She pressed on. "I don't expect you to trust me. I don't have proof. But I do have something no one else does, insight. I know the palace defenses. I know the tunnels. I know the loyalists still hiding in the Scorched Rings. I know Xypho because I survived it."

Starman turned back to her, expression unreadable. "Why should I trust you now?"

"Because I didn't come asking you to forgive Xypho," she said. "I came asking you to fix it."

He regarded her a long moment.

Then: "You want to come with me."

"Yes. And if we go, there is something else there are Xyphorites who infiltrated earth with me but I don't know where they are now and they don't share the same ideologies as me..."

He raised a hand. "Alright."

Blaze blinked.

"You can come," Starman said. "But no one else can know who you are. Not until I say so. Not even the Legion."

Blaze nodded. "Understood."

They stood there, two ghosts from a broken kingdom, staring into the sky as the stars burned brighter above.

Later that night...

The mansion atop Nightingale City stood quiet and dignified, bathed in silver moonlight. A gentle breeze rolled down from the hills, carrying the cool scent of pine and stardust.

On the patio, Zoe sat curled in a blanket beside Jace, hero name Shadow, feet dangling over the marble steps.

They sipped from steaming mugs, the chocolate scent thick in the air.

Behind them, Arthur, his loyal steward, quietly refilled the kettle before retreating into the shadows of the kitchen.

Above them, the stars stretched endlessly.

"They're so bright out here," Jace murmured.

Zoe nodded. "Out in the city, they're just pinpricks. But here? They feel... bigger. Closer."

Jace looked at her. "You okay? After this morning?"

She took a breath. "No. But I will be."

They sat in silence a moment.

Then Zoe looked up, eyes locked on a cluster of stars near the edge of the sky.

"Sometimes I wonder what it's like out there," she said. "Past everything we know. All those systems. All those people. Whole planets just... waiting."

"You want to go?"

"One day," she whispered. "I want to explore the galaxy. Not just as a hero but as someone who sees. Who understands."

Jace leaned back, smiling. "You will. You're not just going to fly, you're going to find something no one's ever seen before."

She glanced sideways at him. "You really think so?"

"I know so."

Above them, a shooting star streaked across the sky.

Zoe whispered something under her breath.

A wish.

The galaxy waited.

And her journey was only beginning.

The Next Night...

Moonlight spilled over the quiet suburbs of Nightingale, where the manicured lawns glowed pale and the streetlamps buzzed in sleepy rhythm. Inside the cozy Craftsman home at the corner of Larkspur and Glenwood, the lights were off. Troy and Annie had long since gone to bed.

But Zoe was wide awake.

She slipped on her hoodie, laced her boots in silence, and crept through the hallway like a shadow. The house creaked gently as she passed the family photos, her parents smiling in one, baby Troy Jr. in another, and a picture of Starman, hidden behind a bookshelf in her room, now tucked in the front pocket of her bag.

She cracked the back door open, stepped into the chill night air, and closed it behind her.

She was halfway down the street when she saw her.

Sam, sitting on the old stone bench beneath the neighborhood oak. Hoodie up, hands jammed in her pockets. Watching her.

Zoe slowed.

"Midnight walk?" She asked, voice flat.

"I could ask you the same thing," she muttered, picking up her pace.

She stood. "You're going to him again, aren't you?"

Zoe didn't answer.

Sam scoffed. "Do you ever listen to anyone? Your dad, me, literally anybody?"

Zoe stopped cold, spun on her. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know exactly what I'm talking about," Sam said, stepping toward her. "You're sneaking around like a vigilante just to chase the approval of some cosmic dropout who abandoned his family!"

"Don't," Zoe snapped. "Don't talk about him like that."

"Why not?" Sam's voice rose. "He is a monster and destroyed the city, Zoe. He left your dad to pick up the pieces. And now he's back like nothing happened, and suddenly you're skipping meals, skipping class, sneaking out in the middle of the night?"

"I'm training," she fired back. "I'm growing. Something you clearly don't understand."

"I understand enough to know you're walking straight into a mess your dad spent half his life trying to escape," Sam said. "Maybe listen to him for once."

Zoe's eyes burned. "He doesn't want me to be strong, he wants me to be safe. There's a difference."

"He wants you to live, Zoe. Not become a tool for someone else's war."

"That's not what this is!" she shouted.

"Then what is it?"

"It's mine," she said, breathing hard. "My choice. My fight. Not yours. Not Dad's. Not anybody's."

The wind whistled through the trees.

Sam's shoulders dropped, jaw tight. "You're so damn stubborn."

Zoe blinked. "And you're just afraid."

They stared at each other, the words hanging between them like a spark.

Then Zoe turned away.

Without another word, she took off into the night, hood up, boots crunching over gravel. The stars stretched wide above her, the sky endless and waiting.

She didn't look back.

Her grandfather was waiting.

And she was going to be ready.