The erratic rumbling startles her awake, along with a bright light, and a sudden change in acceleration as the pod shoots forward. She becomes increasingly aware of her labored breathing and the weight of her younger sister's body slumped against hers. The six-year-old lies in fetal position, lightly snoring and clinging to her white shirt. She watches as the black abyss is streaked with stars, heading full speed to the planet her mother called Earth. Within a few moments, she begins to panic as the pod glides full-speed toward the ground. She wraps her arms firmly around her sister's frame and braces for impact. There is a loud crash and everything goes dark.

A sudden sound and change in lighting brings her back to consciousness. When her eyes open, she comes face to face with a man wearing tight clothing with her family's coat of arms across his chest, holding the front of the pod in hand.

"Hello." He smiles brightly, dropping the shield on the ground and extends a hand to her. She does not respond, instead looks around in every which direction, trying to decide where she is. As if reading her mind, he tells her in broken Kryptonian, "This is Earth, a planet a few light-years away from Krypton." He gestures to the symbol on her shirt. "I'm Kal-El."

She perks up at this, and contorts her face in confusion. "Kal-El?" She croaks, followed by trying to clear her parched throat. "You're a baby."

He smiles. "Well, not anymore as you can see." He says in English. "Do you understand English?" She nods. In school, they were taught the languages of other planets in case communication with other peoples would be necessary. "What is your name?"

"Kara." She says. "Kara Zor-El. I am your cousin."

"My cousin?" He grins. "Cool!" Cool? It is not cold. She asks herself. Before she can respond, he gestures to her sister. "And who is this?"

"This is my younger sister, Kressida Zor-El." Just then, Kressida begins to whimper in her sleep and shifts until she wakes. The girl squints her eyes, trying to adjust to the brazen light, and gazes up at her sister in confusion. "It's okay." Kara reassures her, hugging her close.

Kressida turns to Kal-El and smiles in recognition. "Uncle Jor-El!" She shouts in Kryptonian, lifting her arms for him to carry her. Kal-El smiles sadly and reaches down before lifting the girl onto his hip.

"Come, Kara." He tells her simply. "I know people who can explain everything." She takes his outstretched hand and lets him lift her out of the pod. She looks up as he towers over her and notices that Kressida has fallen asleep against his shoulder. He smiles mischievously, looking from side to side. "Can I tell you something?" She beams and nods. "I can fly."

"You can fly?" Her eyes widen. He nods.

"And guess what else."

"What?"

"You can fly too." She looks at him strangely, but he nods encouragingly. "You can, I promise. Just take my hand." She continues to look at him skeptically, but takes his hand all the same. Without warning, he lifts her high off the ground and she begins to panic. "It's all right." He tells her. "Just focus. You won't know how to do it at the drop of a hat, but I've got you."

She takes a deep breath and allows herself to glide along the air. Her body continually threatens to tip over, but Kal-El works to keep her balanced. With the wind blowing through her long locks, her endorphins flare up at the new liberty that she did not experience on Krypton. She smiles remembering what her mother once said about having extraordinary powers because of the earth's sun.

She laughs as various birds fly by them, squawking a greeting. "Hello!" She says. Kal-El laughs. She runs her free hand through the clouds and feels the cool mist on the tips of her fingers. She smiles, imagining herself bouncing from cloud to cloud, and flying with the birds, Kal-El calls sea gulls. Down below, she watches the waves race one another across the deep blue. Suddenly, as they begin to fly closer to the beach, what feels like hundreds of voices fill her head. She grimaces in pain and clamps one of her hands over one ear, causing her body to sink slightly.

Kal-El notices the difference and pulls her back up. "The voices?" He shouts. She pitifully nods. "Don't focus on the voices. Work to tune them out. Focus on something else. The sound of the waves." He nods down to the waves. "On earth, you have hyper-hearing. You will need to learn to control that." She looks down and centers her attention on the movement of the waves, which helps alleviate the chaos.

Kal-El begins to speak into a small device on his wrist to someone named Jimmy, when she notices an upcoming house at the top of a cliff with two people standing outside. Kal-El lands before them, guiding Kara to her feet. The adults exchange pleasantries, as Kara observes her surroundings. The large white house, the expanse land, and the people. She feels herself become nervous and wary. Who are these people? Why is Kal-El an adult? Where are they?

"Kara, this is Jeremiah and Eliza Danvers." Kal-El tells her, gesturing to the couple. The blond woman smiles in her direction, and the stocky man winks playfully. She tries smiling, but finds herself grimacing. "When I first came here, I was adopted and raised by a human family. The Danvers are my friends, and they have agreed to let you and Kressida live with them." Kara looks from Kal-El to the Danvers and back, unsure of how to respond.

Eliza smiles as she bends down to her eye-level, taking her hands in her own. "Hello, Kara."

"Hello." Kara quietly says.

"I know I am not your mom, Sweetheart, but you're safe here." Eliza gently tells her, caressing her cheek. "We will teach all you need to know about life on earth."

"We have a daughter named, Alex. She is not very much older than you." Jeremiah adds. "So, you won't be alone." Kara looks from them to Kal-El.

Kal-El smiles assuring. She nods, deciding to trust her cousin's judgment. Just then, Kressida groggily lifts her head off of Kal-El's shoulder and looks around in a daze.

"Mother?" Kressida asks in Kryptonian, searching everyone's faces for any indication of her mother. Kara shifts her gaze down to her shoes, biting her lip, will-fully forcing herself not to tear up.

"Hi, Sweetheart." Eliza says, holding her arms out, silently asking Kressida for permission to carry her. Instead, the little girl further presses herself against Kal-El, and again asks him for her mother. "It's okay, you're safe here." Eliza tells her, rubbing her back. Kressida begins to whimper.

Kara lifts her head, and locks eyes with her sister's misty ones. Kressida's eyes are filled with fear and confusion, as she grips the fabric of Kal-El's suit. Kara sadly smiles before turning to the Danvers. "Kressida does not know English."

"She doesn't know English?" Jeremiah asks. Kara shakes her head.

"We were taught English in school, and our parents spoke some, but Kressida was too young to grasp it fluently." She explains. She then turns to her sister. "It's okay, Kress. We will be okay." She says in Kryptonian.

Kressida wiggles down from Kal-El's grasp and scurries to stand beside Kara and firmly grasps the older girl's hand.

The adults discuss certain arrangements, before Kal-El turns to them with a smile. He kneels down in front of Kressida, who struggles as she tries to pull her brown hair out of her bun. He gently pushes her hands away, and tentatively pulls the band out of her hair and gives it to her. "I need to get going, but I will be checking in frequently." He tells Kressida in their language. "Listen to Eliza and Jeremiah." She tearfully nods. "Much love to you." He places a kiss on her forehead, before turning to Kara. "Much love to you."

"Much love to you." She says.

"El Mayarah." He winks before placing a kiss in her hair. She smiles in recognition of the phrase as she watches him fly off into the distance.

She feels Eliza take her by the hand and lead them toward the house, but a small movement above catches her attention. Her eyes dart up to see a girl about her age, leaning against the window gazing down at her. No smile. No frown. No expression. They simply lock eyes, both communicating the uncertainty that awaits them.