Sunrise

Astra was dead.

Even now, Non was still processing that fact. His wife was dead. There was one less kryptonian in the universe, for what was already a genetically dead species. As kryptonians, they should have been invincible under the light of a yellow sun, but it appeared their world cursed them as they travelled throughout the stars. "Kryptonite," it was called. Radioactive ore that mimicked the properties of their homeworld, reproduced by humanity to kill their betters. The one thing that could slay them, and so far, it had done its job. One dead, for dozens of their own. Not a fair trade.

"Non."

He remained sitting there in the depths of Fort Rozz, opening and closing his palm. Anything inside it would have been crushed, yet he held nothing but air.

"Non."

Words were but air, he reflected, as the saying went. Or but wind. No wind blew here, granted, but it was the same air. The same air of a world with a more nourishing atmosphere, lower gravity, and a yellow sun.

This should have been our world, he reflected. Look what we are here. Look what its custodians have done to it.

"Non."

He looked at Tel. One of his subordinates. One of his soldiers.

"What?" he asked.

He didn't have to put up with this, he told himself. He was the leader of Astra's army now. Some of his followers might resent what fortune had placed in their hands, others might relish in his new command. But as long as they followed that command, they could keep their thoughts to themselves.

"Sir, I would ask you to reconsider the period of mourning. Two weeks stand by and we do nothing."

Non scowled. "You would have me abandon the period of mourning?"

"Not abandon. Postpone."

"And leave Astra's spirit adrift in the void? How will she find Rao?"

"Considering that Rao two-thousand light years away, I doubt that what we think or say will have much to do with it."

Non got to his feet. He could take Tel. He could take all of his soldiers. The question remained as to whether he'd kill Tel now to set an example, kill Tel now so that his wife's journey be unsullied by the words coming from his filthy mouth, or he play the long game and keep Tel alive. He brought up a hand, heading for his subordinate's mouth…

…and instead placed it on his shoulder, forcing a smile. "We shall observe the period of mourning," Non said. "I'm sure we all need it. And fourteen days is traditional, no?"

Tel, forcing a smile, showed himself to not be as stupid as Non feared he was. "Of course," he said. "But it's thirteen days."

"What?"

"Thirteen days," he repeated. "At least if one counts the passing of midnight as being a day."

Non turned away to a viewscreen that showed a panoramic view of the area surrounding their location. Earth's sun was rising. Technically, they were on the day after Astra's funeral, and technically, one could say they had passed the first day of mourning. Earth and Krypton's rotational periods were similar – similar enough that the former prisoners had easily been able to adjust to its 24 hour day, as opposed to Krypton's 29. Earth's year was longer, per it being further away from its star, but as a smaller world, it took a shorter amount of time to complete its rotation.

Part of him wanted to change it. To dream that he could save the kryptonian race. They would reclaim their former glory, have a docile work force to elevate them, and they would be more powerful than they ever had been. On this world, they were invincible. On this world, they would be unchallenged.

"Sol."

Non looked at Tel, who was looking at the viewscreen.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"Sol," Tel repeated, pointing towards the sun. "That's what the humans call their star. Sol. Solar system."

"Fascinating," Non murmured.

"Hmm. Or Helios, or Ra, or Amaterasu, or one of a thousand other names." He looked at Non. "Know your enemy, Lieutenant."

"I don't think fairy stories are going to give us victory," Non said. "And if you do have time to read, perhaps you can spend it better making sure that Myriad is ready."

"I could, but-

"Go," Non said. "Now."

That was a threat, and Tel knew it. Bowing his head slightly, he left the chamber. He didn't see Non's eyes flash. He didn't guess how close he was to finding a hole in the back of his head. He didn't see his lieutenant collapse in the chair and put a hand to his chin, looking at the rising sun of Earth.

Sol. Helios. Ra. Ama-something. So many names for the same object. Even savages could recognise the importance of the ball of flaming gas that was keeping them alive, even if they had only come to comprehend how that was the case in the last few centuries. "Thank Sol," he murmured, keeping his eyes trained on the sun. Sol was a yellow star. It gave life to the creatures of Earth, incapable of knowing that its same rays gave a different species the means by which they would bring death to its progeny. If Sol, or Helios, or whoever existed, they were clearly a poor god to be so careless with how they gave out its power.

It made Non wonder though. Rao, the star, was 2000 light years away. Rao, the god, had usually been seen synonymously with Krypton's sun, but it wasn't as if kryptonians had never left their star system before their homeworld's destruction. They'd given praise and prayer to the sun god even when cut off from its light. Rao, the star, still existed, even if its star system had lost a planet. For a moment, Non doubted his decision to honour his wife's wishes. 'Thank Rao.' 'Praise be to Rao.' 'Our prayers and hopes to Rao.' What use were prayers or praise for a god so far from this world? Why give thanks to a star that had never given them the same power as Sol had?

There was no reason to give either to this world's sun, he supposed. But he had to accept the truth. They were on their own. Rao wouldn't help them.

On Earth…they were the gods now.