Chapter 1

Kyla stared at the tall man and woman talking under a tree. Other than the wind rustling through the trees, their conversation was the only sound in the cemetery. She didn't know who they were, but Kyla knew they were two important people in Clark's life. A large mound of fresh dirt awaited its return to the earth as Lois Lane stepped away from the hole.

"I've failed him... in life. I won't fail him in death. Help me find the others like you," the man said.

"Perhaps they don't want to be found," the woman replied, arms crossing her chest.

"They will. And they'll fight. We have to stand together."

The woman, a brunette with a middle eastern accent, stood relaxed next to the man. Her beauty was delicate with a dormant ferocity behind it.

"A hundred years ago I walked away from mankind - from a century of horrors. Man made a world where standing together is impossible."

A hundred years ago? Kyla's math wasn't great, but the woman was far younger looking than a century. Was she immortal?

"Men are still good. We fight. We kill. We betray one another. But we can rebuild. We can do better. We will. We have to," the man whispered.

"The others like me. Why did you say they'll have to fight?" the woman asked.

"Just a feeling," the man looked off in the distance, past Clark's grave.

The foreboding tone in his voice didn't rest well with Kyla. He knew more than he let on, but she got the feeling that even he didn't know how to define it. Without another word, the woman gave him a sullen look and walked away. He adjusted his coat collar and followed her.

The little cemetery sat on a small plot of land beyond the plethora of corn and wheat fields against the Kansas horizon. It was too bad that Clark would lie to rest in a little town while the rest of the world mourned him in the capital with the pomp and circumstance of a presidential parade. She imagined a horse drawn coffin carriage covered by a flag, soldiers lined up along the streets, and people dabbing their eyes as trumpets or bagpipes played. The world had known him as Superman, a god-like being who'd sacrificed himself to save the world from an abomination...a monster. To Kyla, he was Clark. A friend.

Without Clark around, Kyla wasn't sure if staying at the Kent farm was the best thing for her anymore. Sure, she loved being around Martha and helping out with daily duties, but Clark was the thread that held it all together. She had no more ties to the Kent family.

Martha Kent sat on the edge of her bed and blotted her eyes with a wad of tissue. Kyla was surprised she had any tears left. It broke her heart to hear Ma Kent's sobs every night leading up to Clark's funeral. Kyla admired her though. Here sat a woman who'd lost her husband almost 20 years ago, and she'd laid her son to rest just hours ago. How did she keep going? How had she not fallen apart and given up? Kyla premised that the news she was about to deliver to Martha would be another burden to add to her emotional cart. She couldn't lie to her, pretend to be happy, or act like she felt normal in that house anymore. Clark's death had stripped her of anything normal.

"Martha?" Kyla leaned against the door arch.

The grieving woman turned to her with despairing eyes, red with tears peeking at each corner, and smiled.

"Yes, dear."

A lump rose in Kyla's throat. She hated to do this to a woman who'd taken her in and loved her like her own daughter, but the grief in the house had suffocated Kyla. She had to get out from underneath it before she drowned.

"Martha, I...I can't stay. I need to go away for a little while. Clear my head."

She expected Martha to break down into another fit of sobs, but the woman's smile never faltered. She stood, walked over to her, and took Kyla's face in her warm hands.

"I understand, Ky. Take all the time you need. You know you have a place here."

Bewildered by her response, Kyla could only stare back into the shorter woman's hazel eyes. She hadn't expected that reply. Surely the woman wanted to protest, beg her to stay, plead her case for Kyla not to leave, but Martha kissed her on the cheek and walked out of the room. This pained her with more guilt. Was she deserting Clark's mother when she needed someone the most?

Even though she'd been there for six months, Kyla never felt at home on the Kent Farm. So many memories had preceded her, and there were none for her to contribute. If Clark had been there, he'd have done everything to convince Kyla to stay, and maybe she would have. But he was gone.

Kyla packed what little she had, and before she could take the first step out of the front door, Martha stopped her in the hallway.

"Ky. Before you leave, I thought you should have this." She held a rectangular box wrapped in navy blue paper with a black bow cascading over the top. "Clark was waiting to give this to you on your birthday, but I thought you should have it now. He would've wanted you to have it in this case."

Her birthday was a week away, and they'd made plans to have a small party in the backyard. It would've been her first party…ever.

"You can keep it. I'll get it when I come back."

Ignoring Kyla, Martha handed the box to her.

"Ky, dear. I have a feeling you're not coming back. I think Clark would be very disappointed if you didn't take this. He made it specifically for you. I certainly have no use for it."

Begrudgingly, Kyla took the box from Mrs. Kent and kissed her on the forehead.

"Thank you, Martha. You gave me the best six months of my life. Clark was really lucky to have you as his mom. I wish I'd been so lucky."

"But you were." Martha gently grasped Kyla's forearm. "I see you as the daughter I never had. Clark was very fond of you, which makes you my family, too. You always have a home here. Never forget that."

Kyla grinned at her and tucked the box inside her backpack. With one last glance, she looked at the graying woman and stepped outside. The Kansas air smelled fresh and new, despite the sadness that drifted across the fields. The wind tickled the tree branches, and she half expected Clark to burst from the sky and land in front of her revealing it had all been a prank, but the wind was her only companion in the yard. As a fitting goodbye, she closed her eyes and soared up into the sky. Any other day she would've walked or ran to her destination, but flying off into the clouds seemed like a proper tribute.

As she drifted above the clouds, the memory of the first time Clark had taught her to fly echoed across the canopy. She had held onto him as he shot up from the surface of the earth. The wind roared past her ears as they climbed high into orbit. She hadn't believed Clark when he said she could fly, too.

"Look, Ky." He motioned her to look at the white horizon. "You've bound yourself to your human limitations. This is what it means to be free."

Kyla hadn't wanted to open her eyes. She clung to him like a frightened little girl despite being two years older than him. She didn't have the benefit of a coach as a child, but then again, neither had Clark. Kyla wondered what it had been like for him the first time he'd seen someone's insides with his x-ray sight, the first time his heat vision bore through an object, or when he obliterated an object accidentally with his strength. She imagined he'd been terrified like her, but for Clark, he always had the Kents to support and nurture him. Kyla had to suppress everything, hide herself from the world. She'd had nobody.

When she opened her eyes, she would never forget what the sky looked like that day. The sun shown with a fierce yellow radiance. The air was crisp and cool. The serenity of the silence instantly calmed her. Clouds drifted by, paying them no attention, and a soft breeze rifled through her black hair.

"See?" He chuckled.

Kyla tilted her head back and closed her eyes. She wanted to encapsulate the moment and cherish it. In an instant, she felt gravity working against her, and the sense of falling made her eyes shoot open. Clark had let her go. The sound of her screams got caught up in the wind soaring past her eardrums. Her arms and legs flailed in every direction as she reached out for something to hold onto.

A red and blue blur rocketed down past her, and as she turned to look at the ground, Clark stared up at her with a huge smile on his face as he dropped along with her. She reached out for him, but he moved out of her grasp.

"Don't be afraid. You and I both know you'll be fine. Just think about what you want your body to do and where to go."

"Are you insane?" she yelled. "You just dropped me."

The farthest she'd ever been skyward had been the height of a three story building. She feared that if she couldn't do what Clark wanted, something like a small crater would be left in the earth below.

"Come on. You can do it."

The earth came at her in a rush, and her arms flew up in front of her face as she braced for the impact. When her body and the ground met, ripples bounced across the surface of the landscape. Chunks of earth exploded into the air, and Kyla got a taste of how an asteroid must've felt. Although she felt no pain, her pride was definitely hurt.

"I can't believe you just let me fall like that." She hissed at him through gritted teeth.

"Relax. You're fine. If it makes you feel better, the same thing happened to me." He knelt down next to her. "So get up and try again. I got the hang of it after a few tries. You will, too."

Kyla rolled her eyes at him.

"Watch." Clark pressed his fists to the ground, and the dirt rumbled around them. "Think about the largest leap you've ever taken and reach past it. Try focusing your energy behind you, get it to drive you forward...and just jump."

Clark exploded into the air, and a sonic boom followed him as he flew into the clouds, his red cape flapping behind him.

"Well, I certainly won't look as cool as that," she mumbled as she replicated Clark's actions.

Kyla closed her eyes, searched within the confines of her memories to when she leapt across the ground on days she felt brave. The fear that held her down had to be snuffed out, or she would never be able to succeed at this. She felt electricity flow through her, and the ground below her tremored as if it feared her fury. Kyla took a deep breath and pushed off.

She soared into the clouds higher than she'd ever done on her own, but as soon as she thought about gravity, she felt her body sink in the air.

"Keep thinking about the energy and where you want it to take you," Clark said. "You have the power here, not it."

As she fell, she reached down and found the anger she'd fed upon for the past three and a half decades. She was tired of hiding in the shadows and suppressing the gifts she'd been given. A roar bellowed from her throat, and she discovered she was no longer falling… but floating.

"I told you that you'd get the hang of it. It's in your blood." Clark appeared next to her with his staple grin and arms crossed. "Now, let's see what you can really do."

He took off with lightning speed across the sky, and Kyla knew it was her cue to follow. She outstretched her arms and sped after him. Having released the chains that held her down, fear lost its war, and she found herself doing twists and turns over water, mountains, and forests. The exhilaration made her drunk with joy.

"How do you make those sharp turns and not flop around in the wind like me?" she asked.

"Honestly, it's the suit and cape. It really helps with the air dynamics."

She frowned, "You're kidding. No way I'm putting on that ridiculous thing. Spandex with some blanket tucked in the back is not my thing, Clark. I'll just deal with it, I guess."

Clark's eyebrow raised.

"You know, Ky, this suit was worn by our people as a symbol of respect and regality. It shows the house of which you belong. The symbol means more than just the family of El. It means hope. Neither one of us knew our father, but what I got from mine was a need to do the right thing."

"Well, I'm glad you gleamed a good moral code from your father, but mine never once laid eyes on me. I only learned rejection."

Anger bubbled through her veins as she thought about her father, Shor-Ryo and his secret but brief love affair with her mother. She'd been two years old when Jacinda Mok-Alor sent her away from Krypton. Not one day had Shor-Ryo come to visit her before her departure.

"Kyla, there's a strong possibility that he didn't even know you existed."

"Give me a break, Clark. You don't even know me that well. How could you say that? You didn't know him either, so you can't speak for him."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, "I see a lot of myself in you. I see that anger, the loneliness, the feeling of being lost, dissatisfied. I get it, Ky. I was there. Think about all the stuff you're capable of doing. Don't squander it. Use it. I'm so glad you found me, and I'm sorry I wasn't there your whole life." He stared into her eyes, and she thought that his heat vision would sear them out of their sockets.

"I'm not you. I'm nothing like you. I have no interest in this hero business you do. That's not me. I don't want the torches and pitchforks. For heaven's sakes, Clark, you're in the middle of witch hunt right now. John Q. Public wants to hang you out to dry."

Clark sighed, "It's not about that, Ky. It's about doing what's right. Knowing all the stuff you can do, don't you want to do something with it?"

"No."

The look of confusion on Clark's face amused her. Why couldn't he understand that she wanted no part of the public eye?

"I don't believe that. Not for one second. Sure, it can feel like a burden sometimes, but I can't help but think about the lives I've saved. Those people would be dead had I not been able to step in. That's gotta mean something."

Kyla floated away from his grasp and turned her back to him.

"Look, Clark. You do you, and I'll do me. It's cool and all what you do, and you're a saint for it, but that's just not for me."

He sighed, but no words came afterward. She looked over her shoulder at him. His blue eyes gazed off in the distance. Kyla was glad mindreading hadn't been blessed upon her, as she didn't want to know what he thought.

She'd never forget that look though. The memory of his taut jaw, hopeful eyes, and confident smile haunted her as she stared out into the open all by herself. She missed him. She missed being accepted no matter who she was... or wasn't.

Clark had saved her life, not in the physical sense, but in the everything sense. Kyla had walked the country back and forth with no goals, no ambition, and no desire but to be invisible. Now, she had to look to the future without Clark, and the first thing on her agenda was to find out who the man and woman were at his funeral. They knew of an evil looming on the horizon, and she didn't want to be alone when it came.

The monster, whom the press had deemed as Doomsday, had been the most frightening spectacle she'd ever seen. Even Zod and his World Engines had not shaken her that much. Seeing the first reports of Clark's death instantly made her regret telling him not to involve her with his hero stuff. Granted, she couldn't have foreseen what was on the horizon, but she felt a heavy guilt, nonetheless. She could've helped him, and maybe he wouldn't have died.

Kyla wondered if Martha held any resentment toward her for not jumping in to help Clark that day. Then again, maybe she understood why as she watched society tear Superman apart for being who he was. No pressure from anyone could outweigh the regret she felt. Hiding behind cowardice did Clark's legacy a disservice.