Space substituted atmosphere, lecturing the windswept hills with a tapestry of ephemeral gradients. Where illustrious azure hues once permeated, promiscuous scarlet tinges then pervaded, teasing, whispering to the earth with sultry, ever-changing twilights. Lush vegetation blushed, marked with the void's shimmering kisses of transient lust: lust that made the whirling winds cry like banshees rife with jealousy. Unyielding, they surrounded a shapely figure perched atop the crest of a hill, yet, she remained alone, isolated from the environment she waded upon.
Staring at nothing in particular, she takes several steps forward, her footfalls enveloped by the marsh. There it lies, at the bottom of the hill, ebbing and flowing in whirls and swirls, electricity pulsating throughout its horizon. On that point the winds cease, as if, afraid, and a silence befalls her. The heat radiates, and her skin pulses. The eyes of the vortexes meet her own, inviting, beckoning her to become one whole. A sense of vertigo overwhelms her; her heart racing, as the convolutions contort less and less the deeper her gaze becomes. Taking one final step forward and closing her eyes, a tear trickles down her cheek.
"Farewell, my love," she whispers to herself.
The humid spring air rustles the ruffles of Linda Danver's dress, forming a cool layer atop her warm, sunbathed skin. Fresh lipstick glazed across her lips, wig affixed as though it were her own hair and freshly manicured nails, what would, under normal circumstances, be a cocktail of pleasantries for the illustrious maid of might. Under normal circumstances she might smile, or start a conversation with a friend, but no, she couldn't bring herself to do either. Looking to the sky, her fingers trace a metallic bracelet on her wrist—its weight wearing her down, despite all her unearthly strength.
Tony Martyn, it reads, and not without consequence, as the mention of his name causes her to tremble over what could have been. Maybe he wouldn't have intruded upon her thoughts if there wasn't a P.O.W. rally on campus, reminding her that he disappeared, perhaps even died, while serving in the Peace Corps. The thought of him being away, of him dying, made her nauseated. With all her power, all her abilities, she would have failed, failed in an otherwise preventable case, all because she didn't speak up, or because she didn't bother to make sure he was safe… all her fault. What good was such power if she couldn't save one man? The man that she barely knew, yet he invaded her thoughts time and time again over the past year.
One memory triggers another—she remembers, remembers the day they met as though it were yesterday—her eidetic memory sparing no details. It was about a year ago, she thought, glancing to her wrist. On the Pacific Coast Highway, its curves accented and defined by the ocean's touch, his convertible sped like lace tracing the contour of an hourglass, the whisk of sea dancing around him.
I would've never known him, had that parachute not blindsided him, she thought, her head resting in her palm. That parachute just had to land in his car, of all cars. It was my duty, my obligation to save him. Though a collision was imminent, she intercepted the vehicle, a purple streak of living lightning, lifting it to the sky. Once we landed in a nearby field, and our gazes met, it was love at first sight… for me at least. We never saw each other after that day, but—he wrote to me, and I wrote to him. If only I'd let him know how I felt, or at least questioned him.
Sighing, staring to the ground, kicking up dust, her eyes widened as she looked ahead—she had wandered some distance from the rally. It wasn't healthy, no, not at all to wander in a daze. And why should she? Why should she mope around? Was she not able to reignite stars with her Heat Vision? Move planets out of orbit with her fists? Fly hilariously faster than the speed of light? Then what was stopping her from finding him, potentially saving his life? Nothing—only her own reserves birthed from whatever petty embarrassment she harbored. Embarrassment, was that it? Her cheeks grew red, a cold sweat flowing about her body.
Trembling, she clenched her fist, took a deep breath and furrowed her brow. I've been a fool to let someone's life hang in the balance because I felt… inhibited, as if it wasn't my place to intervene, as if I might give off the wrong impression. Did cousin Superman care when he hadn't any interest in Lois? She exhaled, straightening her back. Taking one swift step forward, her identity of Linda Danvers seemingly faded away, as luscious blonde hair whipped the air atop a shapely figure. And, without another moment's hesitation, she vanished, as though she were never there.
Some distance away, a slender woman in a blue top hat dazzles thousands of people—people crowded to watch the unbelievable, the reality shattering stunts that flow from her hands like clockwork. Never had so many people shown up when only she relied on legerdemain. Jeff was right, if she wanted to make it big, then she had to go through the motions—give the people what they wanted—and that's exactly what she did.
"For my next trick, I'll need a volunteer from the audience!" she said, her voice somehow amplified enough to reach even the farthest corners of the stadium.
Peering, she settles on a young man not too close, yet not too far back.
"Alright! You there!" she says.
The crowd bellowed as several stood, pointing to themselves in confusion. Snickering, the bewitching princess of magic whispered a meager phrase to herself, and less than a microsecond later, her choice appeared on stage.
"Neat trick Zatanna, but what am I just supposed to do, stand here?" he asked.
"Precisely that!" she said, raising her wand, and without delay thereafter, "Epor emoc evila! Skcitsmurd trats gnitaeb!"
A heartbeat later, the drumsticks play on their own, the rope dancing in midair beside them.
"You see, ladies and gentlemen—I've made the drumsticks play a rhythm attuned to my subject's heartbeat! And I've suspended this rope in midair to exactly duplicate his brainwaves!" she said.
Taking a bow, her smile subsided. This was the same trick she preformed on… him. When was it, a year ago? She couldn't remember—sometime or another around there. How embarrassed she was, why she botched the trick on stage, in front of 100s of people; that was a lot back then. All because of his face, his… allure. So sweet and gentle, yet so rugged and chiseled. You're terrific, the rope spelled out, lighting her the face the same color as her ruby lipstick. Then, then they had a fling, one she had since put out of her mind. He should have told her sooner, he should have… could have… stayed with her. A tear rolled down her cheek as the audience roared, a beast of a thousand voices.
Eyes widening, she bobbed her head back. It was over—one of the biggest shows of the year, all over. She fell through the motions, but didn't remember doing them, as though her body was on autopilot. Cheers and shrieks she couldn't make out swelled the atmosphere—she must have done good at least. The noise, while satisfying, began to pound at her ears, drumming on her skull. Bowing and blowing a kiss, each passing second the throbbing in her head began to amplify, until it caused her to stumble, head beginning to wobble. Taking a deep breath, she gave one final wave and thank you to her audience before mumbling to herself and vanishing. Though no Supergirl, one voice in particular nudged its way out to her just before she left.
"I love you Zatanna!" it said.
Love me. Nothing out of the ordinary, all her, well most of her fans love her. But then, then there was the whisper that followed.
"If only you'd be mine."
The feminine lilt threw her into a daze. Be mine, she repeated over, and over, and over in her mind. A woman, thinking that way about her? She knew of… other women who—no, she was misinterpreting it. Maybe she meant be hers, like a sister, or a mother—something like that. The exhaustion was clouding her thinking, she needed to lie down and rest, but couldn't—not so long as he was on her mind, taunting her to relive days long since past, and she could too, watching the days of the past is a simple task for the saucy sorceress, but it would only cause more pain.
Lying awake in bed, her sheets dampened with sweat, she recalls a memory from last spring—the two of them inches away, his breath traveling down her neck. Jeering up, she breathes heavily with squinted eyes into the darkness. I'll never get over this, never get these feelings to, to just go away. Exhaling, she ran her fingers through her hair.
"It's now or never," she mumbled, getting out of bed.
While the blizzard would blind any ordinary person, it troubled Supergirl naught, as her X-ray Vision swept the land. Nothing. Hours of searching, relative to her, yet not a sign of life beyond the villagers she had consulted for help sometime earlier. A demon, they said, how absurd. What would a demon be doing in the Himalayas of all places? If they existed at all, and she was certain they didn't. Then again, perhaps this "Orgox" was no demon at all, but instead, an unearthly being, much the same as her. Funny, some people considered her a demon, despite her good deeds, blinded by the knives of belief sharpened by prejudice.
Lost in thought, she's caught off guard by a fissure, rattling the slope ahead of her, revealing a block of ice with two petrified cavemen. Raising an eyebrow she floats closer, the bitter wind gnawing at her skin to no avail. Reaching to touch the slab, a hand breaks through, grabbing her wrist. Heaving, she manages to break free, red marks imprinted on her skin. Impossible—how could mere cavemen rival her in strength, let alone harm her? Rubbing the imprints, she speeds up her senses, watching them break free in slow motion, analyzing their molecular structure. So that's it—magic.
A scowl creeping across her face, she melts the snow around them with her Heat Vision and slows down her senses. The duo fall into the pond of liquid ice, growling, shrieking, their arms flailing through the blusterous wind. Hovering above them, the mightiest woman on Earth inhales and then exhales, freezing them in a casing harder than diamond.
Someone was trying to stop her, someone with knowledge of the occult, but who? And why? Perhaps this Orgox was a sorcerer of some sort—that would explain why the villagers believed a demon possessed the mountain. Now she had another mission: rescue Tony and liberate the denizens of the mountain. Great.
Meanwhile, far above, a certain sorceress nears the peak, climbing in heels and fishnets, unfazed by the permafrost. The environment bends to her will, warping to her desires. No stairs? No problem, a little backwards talk and presto, there they are. An hour of climbing, of walking, of searching had gone by. No sign of life, no sign of anything. Had she waited too long? The footprints she found earlier were months old, leaving no guarantee he was still alive. In fact, had she not commanded the newer snow to dissipate, she would have never found them. Rubbing her chin, she closes her eyes and envisions what she remembers of his smile, glistening in the sunlight—the thought warms her. Shivers of the past soothing her, a frigid jolt travels throughout her body. Air escaping her lungs, frigid claws clench at her waist.
An eagle of ice soars upward, brought to life by the magic of the mountain, or rather, whoever was in control of it. Its claws tightened around her, a ferocious, unnatural chill festers, beginning to gestate within her body. Teeth chattering, magic impossible, she lets out a breath of stagnated pain from her spine, shooting up like electricity in a circuit. Left only to her thoughts, the mistress of magic can only stutter out shallow breaths as the artificial ice sculpture brings her to a chilled hell—its nest.
Dropped in the center of what appears a convertible igloo, her body convulses, the winds flowing through her. Stammer here, stammer there, her chest heaves as she slides up a wall. Shifting her gaze up, her eyes follow sunbeams reflecting off the rigid wings of the stoic bird. Pivoting her hip off the wall, she positioned herself forefront of the light's destination, absorbing the radiant warmth, giving her just enough strength to speak.
"Wons drib—emoceb evlewt sselmran sdrib!"
And with that, the glacial beast shattered into twelve separate, miniature birds. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she panted. Just a little farther… She began to fly, only to crash face first into the icy rocks beneath her.
Flying upward faster than a speeding bullet, the maid from Krypton scans the mountainside with her X-ray Vision. Nothing. Had the villagers led her astray? Perhaps in fear of the "demon" that lurked in their nightmares? Reaching the next plateau, her eyes widen as she spots a familiar attire. The blue top hat and tailcoat, the long, luscious ebony locks… er, black hair. She shook her head. Her thoughts were betraying her, having him on her mind-having only him on her mind-up until that point was… causing her to confuse things—conflate his beautiful hair with Zatanna's.
Landing adjacent her body, Zatanna turned as blue as her tailcoat, faster than a human eye could perceive, the maid of might wrapped her numbed magical counterpart in her indestructible cape. Just the right dosage of Heat Vision, and the color in her cheeks began to resurface. In a moment she would awaken, in a fleeting moment she'd be okay. What are the odds she ended up finding her in such a desolate area? If she hadn't, then maybe, just maybe she wouldn't open her eyes again, and that would be it. What color were her eyes again? Kara cupped her chin, eyes tracing her soft features, from cheek to lips—she let out a quick breath, her heart rate elevated. Her smell was alluring—was it blueberries? How fitting.With a gulp, her arm extended toward her face-
"Y-you!?" Zatanna said, eyes widening.
Retracting her arm, Kara flinches. "Me..."
The two stare at one another a moment, blinking.
"What are you doing here, of all places… Supergirl?" she asked, propping herself up with her elbows.
Kara winced. No thank you? Exhaling, she looked to the ground and then back at her patient.
"Thank god you're alright, Zatanna—for a moment there I thought you weren't going to make it–and if I hadn't defrosted you, maybe you wouldn't have!"
"Perhaps." she said, heaving herself upright, rubbing her eyes. "I'll have to thank you later, but for the time being, I'm on a mission—a mission to save someone's life—alone!"
"Er, what a coincidence, I'm also here on a rescue mission!" she said.
Grabbing her hat, a glint lingers in the corner of Zatanna's eye. Turning as she begins to stand, she reads the inscription on Supergirl's bracelet. Tony Martyn.
"Tony Martyn!? That's… not right, I'm the one that's supposed to find him!"
For a microsecond, the mightiest woman on Earth felt as though the sky was falling around her, trapping her, strangling her.
"Sorry, I'm the one with superpowers here, making me the more qualified person to find Tony!"
Before Zatanna can respond, a rumbling from behind forces them to turn—a wall of snow heading right for them. Turning on a dime, Kara grabs her newly spawned rival and narrowly dodges the disaster.
"I can handle myself!" Zatanna said, slapping Supergirl across the face.
Gulping, Kara lets her go, but not because it physically hurt her, no quite the contrary—it actually hurt Zatanna's hand, enough to shatter her wrist—but because it hurt her inside. All she wanted to do was make sure she was safe, that, she was okay. Yet, cruelty stabbed her in the back, piercing her heart like a hot knife through the snow beneath her.
"Let me-" Supergirl attempted to say.
"No, you've done enough!" Zatanna said, since dropped to the snow.
As the two emotionally clashed, the snow around them began to stir, flowing around their bodies in layers, like gears in a clock spinning atop one another. Noticing the spectral activity, Zatanna prepared to spirit herself away to safety, only to be grabbed by the snow alongside a Supergirl whose inner thoughts plagued her long enough to allow her to also be taken off guard. Growling, the snow formed what one might describe as an abominable snowman.
"Something wants us both dead and off this mountain!" Supergirl said, freeing herself by chopping away the snowman's fingers with what she deemed "Super-karate".
"Oh, let me guess, you think I'm responsible?" Zatanna questioned, with something a hiss in her voice, her hand underneath her arm.
"N-no! Not at all!" Supergirl said as she flew overhead.
Scoffing, Zatanna whispered an incantation to shrink herself, escaping to the slope nearby.
"Stay back or you'll get hurt, this is something only my super powers can handle!" Supergirl said, poising herself to attack.
"No dice Supergirl, it's my magical powers that are needed here!"
Taking a deep breath, the maid of steel places her hands around her mouth to act as a funnel, exhaling a single, powerful gust of Super Breath. At the same time, Zatanna whispers a phrase and sends magical fireballs hurtling toward the monster; however, as the attacks home in on their target, it seemingly vanishes, particles deformed and floating about.
"I-it's made itself intangible!" Zatanna said as she tumbled into a snowbank, head smashing against solid ice.
Losing… my strength from these magical fireballs… Supergirl thought as she faltered in the snow, falling to a single knee.
And then, as the duo begin to stand once more, the frosty fiend reforms, roaring loud enough to cause an actual avalanche.
"Zatanna, you're bleeding!" Supergirl reaches toward the princess of prestidigitation's forehead, only for her hand to be slapped away. Stuttering out a breath, she looks away, lowering her hand.
"I'll be fine, there's no time for that!" Zatanna said, standing.
"You're right, but we'll have to work together—our attacks have made us too weak to do this alone." Supergirl said, her voice having dropped an octave, starring to the ground.
"Er, yeah—this is our only chance," Zatanna said, coughing, a harsh burning in her throat.
Using her Heat Vision to melt the monster, Supergirl circles the beast with Zatanna in arm, turning the remaining snow crystals into puffs of cloud. In almost an instant, only puddles and fleecy wisps of cloud remain of what was once a fearsome ice fiend.
"Teamwork saved us in the end," Zatanna sighed, cringing from the pain in her wrist.
"Right, but, the question remains, are we any closer to finding Tony?" Supergirl asked, crossing her arms, starring off into the violet distance.
Are we? Zatanna wondered. Why is…
"Supergirl..." Zatanna said, placing her hand on her shoulder.
"Zatanna?" Supergirl asked, turning toward her.
Retracting her hand, she dragged her finger across her lips. "Why do you want to find Tony so bad?"
"Er, well..." she said, starring to the ground.
"Did you two…?"
"No! No, we were just friends, is all," Supergirl said, looking to Zatanna, face reddened.
"Oh, I just thought-"
"Thank god you're both here!" a familiar, masculine voice said, interrupting Zatanna.
"T-tony!" they both exclaimed.
"There's no time for a happy reunion girls! The "Orgox" really does exist! And he's been keeping me prisoner on this mountain for months!" Tony said, approaching with a hunch in his back.
"Or… gox?" Zatanna asked.
"You look like you have a nasty case of frostbite, but you'll be okay," Supergirl said, placing her hands on his chest.
"There's no time for this! Look! There he is—he's been following me up the mountainside!" he said, pointing to a figure garbed in old robes climbing the plateau.
Strange. His pulse is normal, yet, his body language screams fear. Could it be…? Supergirl took a step forward, examining "Tony".
"I'll stop him!" Zatanna said, pointing her magic wand at the ancient demon approaching.
Eyes widening, Supergirl blitzes Zatanna, hard enough to knock her wand to the ground, but not enough to cause her any harm.
"Have you gone mad Supergirl!?" she said, pushing her to no avail.
"This isn't Tony," she said, backhanding the man they'd come so far to rescue.
Zatanna's face twisted and turned as he crashed into the rocks overhead, the maid of might standing like an overbearing tower, fists tightened, a nasty scowl stenciled on her face.
"Y-you killed him!" she said, grabbing her clothing, banging on her chest.
"Look again," Supergirl said, pointing to the rocks, where a startling transformation began to take place.
Light throbbed around the figure that was previously the man they had been searching so long and hard for—replaced by a decrepit, decaying face.
"My god, it really was the Orgox!" Zatanna said, grabbing her wand.
A clever ruse, disguising himself so we would confuse the other figure for him—the real Tony!
"And now's our chance to capture him!" Supergirl said.
"To save myself I'll sacrifice this mountain!" the demon said, tapping his staff against the rock beneath him as Supergirl closed in. In an instant, the ground shattered, and the Orgox vanished.
"The whole mountain's coming down!" Zatanna said, reciting a spell to protect Tony.
An immeasurable amount of rocks rained upon their protective veil, the real Tony in Supergirl's arms. The staff had caused a disruption large enough to shatter the mountain like wet sand breaking apart in a child's hands, allowing the Orgox the distraction he needed to escape—he knew she'd go for Tony, and that it'd only take her a heartbeat, but that was all he needed. Flying with something of a magical umbrella, the three descended thousands of feet, breathing calmed.
As the last of the countless tons of rocks settled, they reached the base of where the mountain once stood, the landscape a violent mess of jagged rocks and fissures. Supergirl, taking a deep breath, sped up her senses. Zatanna and Tony appeared frozen, along with everything else, not that there really was anything else at that point. Taking soft steps amongst the debris, she brushed a stray hair from her face behind her ear—this was preventable. So much devastation, so much carnage, and yet, it could have all been avoided, had she blitzed the Orgox when she had the chance instead of hesitating. Was it hesitating? She just didn't go as fast as she could have, because she underestimated him. The entire time. Demons don't exist? Maybe so, but she should have treated him as though he were one, with the same level of danger such a creature might warrant. Worst of all, the destruction of the mountain was her fault, or so she thought, because if she hadn't interfered, then the peak would still be rising, in all its majestic glory. But then Zatanna might have died, and Tony-
Kara turned to them, her palm over her chest. Was the sacrifice worth it? No, not when it was preventable. She accomplished her main prerogative, but not only failed to complete her secondary objective, but allowed countless deaths—the villagers, and then some—whoever else might have been lurking the slopes. All their blood was on her hands, and she would have to live with that—live with knowing her own bravado, selfishness resulted in the loss of life—a mistake that would never befall her cousin Kal. Running her hands through her hair, she sat atop a rock, taking deep breath after deep breath. There has to be a way to fix this, to amend my mistakes, or at least atone for them… but not now, nothing can be done now. Mourning over her mistakes would accomplish nothing, there was a time and place for it, just like there would be for fixing them. Hopefully.
Slowing down her senses, she resumed her previous position, as though nothing had happened.
"As it turns out, that "Orgox" was once apart of a tribe that roamed the Earth eons ago, until he was banished!" Tony said, gesturing to Supergirl.
"I'm sure he perished along with the mountain," she said, hand on her hip.
"We can't know for sure," Zatanna said, placing her hand atop Supergirl's shoulder.
Moments later, the trio zooms over the Atlantic, Tony and Zatanna atop a magic carpet, with Supergirl flying starboard.
"I can't thank you gals enough, really," Tony said, exhaling.
"It's nothing, really, anything to make sure you're safe," Zatanna said, leaning towards him, an arm around his shoulder, her other arm in a sling.
"I'm sure my new fiance back home will be glad to hear that!" he said.
And with that simple sentence, both their thoughts shattered simultaneously—did he say fiance?
All this time, all this, this grieving over a since dead romance—all this searching! All this fighting with Supergirl! And for what? A guy that never even cared… I just wish I knew, so I wouldn't have wasted my time… Zatanna shuddered, retracting her arm, eyes sunken and beginning to focus on the never-ending sea beneath them. Wave after wave, she watched them go by as they sped thousands of miles an hour.
To think we were fighting over a man with no interest in either of us—or if he does, it's not the type of interest I want. I can't speak for Zatanna though. Supergirl frowned, flying ahead of the carpet.
"Was it something I said? You two are awfully quiet all of a sudden!" he said, huddled up, knees tucked to his chest.
No answer. Zatanna thought of dumping him in the ocean, but it would solve nothing—she felt foolish enough without having to act on her emotions and make matters worse. Supergirl, while, initially perturbed, smiled—hearing not a single word he said. She didn't know why she was smiling all of a sudden, but she was. Maybe it was the fragrance she picked up, a sort of, blueberry scent. Where was it coming from? She had smelled it earlier, and it relaxed her then, but where-… Oh. A blush that neither of her travel companions could see crept across her face.
Before she knew it, the two of them landed in the Metropolis bay, neither speaking a word to the man that had once occupied so much of their time.
"Well, I don't know what's gotten into you two, but thanks again! I'll be sure to write!" he said, met with deaf ears, walking off into the distance.
Noticing his absence, Zatanna looked around, breathing a sigh of relief. Good, I never want to see him again. As she prepared to chant her next spell to return home for some well-deserved rest, a glint of Supergirl in the corner of her eye caught her attention—she was just standing there at the peer, staring off into the sunset. Shifting her eyes back to the ground, she rubbed her temples.
"Supergirl," she said, walking up beside her. "Are you okay?"
"Er, yeah Zatanna, I'm fine," she said, her facial expression betraying her.
"You don't look fine," she said, looking away from her.
"I suppose I'm just a little disappointed is all," she said.
"Yeah, me too."
A silence lingered for a moment between them.
"I, look. I'm sorry I've been so selfish," Zatanna said, exhaling and closing her eyes. "I shouldn't have been so rude and possessive, especially when it turns out it was for nothing… not that it would be okay were it for something."
Jaw dropping ever so slightly, Supergirl turned to face her. "It's okay, I wasn't best behaved either—I acted arrogant and it almost resulted disastrously." Almost. Kara kicked herself in her metaphorical ribs.
"I guess we both made mistakes, over a man no less," Zatanna said, snickering.
"I'll never understand men," Supergirl said, reciprocating the gesture.
"You and me both," she said, placing her hand behind her head, stretching.
A hand on her hip, Kara's eyes wandered—a blush creeping across her face again.
"Listen, maybe-" Zatanna said as she finished her stretch, turning to face her. "Are you okay?"
"Just uh, fine. Go on."
"Well, I was just thinking that maybe you and I should get together sometime—like lunch or something, no men or anything like that, just a girl's day out, to make up for our faux rivalry," she said, tilting her head.
"That would be great," she said, her face growing redder by the second.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.
Perking her head up, Kara turned away to face the sunset once more.
"Absolutely! I just need some rest is all!" she said, not necessarily lying, turning back to her companion.
"Right… so how about this Saturday at say, eleven?"
"Won't you need longer to heal your wrist? My X-ray Vision tells me it's completely shattered..."
"It's nothing a simple spell can't fix once I've recuperated," Zatanna said, giggling.
Always concerned for me… it's kinda cute—kinda...
"Well in that case, everything sounds good, but where at?"
"Well, why don't we see where the day takes us?" Zatanna said, smiling.
"I'd like that," Kara said, flashing a quick grin.
"It's a date! Or is that too weird?" Zatanna asked, feeling a shiver travel up her spine.
"I'm… I mean, it's not like an actual date—we are two girls after all!"
"Right… Uh, I'll meet you here at eleven on Saturday."
"See you then!" Supergirl said, taking off, waving back at her before rocketing above the clouds.