A/N: Introducing the Superman of my DC: Progeny Universe, Jonathan Kent. I've been hard at work on this, and was inspired by the release of James Gunn's Superman teaser to go ahead and drop the first chapter.

Disclaimer: I have no ownership over DC Comics or any associated characters

Chapter 1: Phenomenon

Metropolis High School

2033

The bell had just rung for lunch when Aoibheann excused herself from Ms. Franklin's chemistry class, saying she needed to use the restroom. Instead of going to the bathroom, the troubled teen had made her way up to the roof access stairwell. As she stood on the ledge, looking down at the concrete courtyard three stories below, tears streamed down her pale cheeks. The weight of the world felt too heavy on her slender shoulders. She just wanted it all to end—the sadness, the anxiety, the feeling of never being good enough. Luckily, a teacher had gone up to the roof for a break and spotted Aoibheann. He immediately called for help and the school resource officer was able to talk her down from the ledge. Now she sat numb in Principal Williamson's office, staring at her hands.

The door opened and her uncle Tommy rushed in, having gotten an urgent call from the school to come right away. His usual cheerful expression was replaced by one of fear and concern.

"Aoibheann! Oh thank god you're okay," he said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Principal Williamson cleared his throat. "Mr. McDougal, please have a seat. What your niece did today was an extremely serious cry for help."

Tommy's face drained of color as he sat down, putting a protective arm around Aoibheann.

The principal continued solemnly, "It is policy for any student attempting suicide or displaying suicidal behavior to be placed on immediate medical leave. Aoibheann will need to be evaluated by professionals and receive therapy before she can return to school."

"Of course, of course," Tommy said, his voice shaking slightly. "We'll get her whatever help she needs. Isn't that right, love?" He gave his niece's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Aoibheann just nodded vacantly, feeling utterly empty inside.

Tommy led Aoibheann out of the principal's office and through the eerily quiet hallways of Metropolis High. Students were still in class, unaware of the turmoil his niece had just gone through.

Once they reached Tommy's pickup truck in the parking lot, he opened the passenger door for Aoibheann. She climbed in without a word, staring vacantly out the windshield. Tommy got in the driver's side, but didn't start the engine right away.

"Love, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?" he said gently. "I can't imagine what you're going through, but I'm here for you."

Aoibheann shrugged listlessly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But you have to," Tommy insisted, his voice a mix of concern and desperation. "Bottling it all up clearly isn't working. I want to understand so I can help you through this."

He reached over and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. She didn't pull away, but didn't respond either.

With a heavy sigh, Tommy started the truck. They drove in silence for a few blocks before Aoibheann finally spoke up.

"Being the daughter of Silver Banshee sucks," she muttered, venom lacing her words. "Mom cares more about her ridiculous criminal lifestyle than being an actual mother to me."

The pain and resentment in her tone was palpable. Tommy's heart broke for his niece.

"Siobhan made some bad choices, it's true," he said carefully. "But she does love you, Aoibheann. In her own...misguided way."

Aoibheann shook her head adamantly. "No, she doesn't. If she really loved me, she would have given up the villain game years ago to be a proper parent. Instead, she's been in and out of jail my whole life."

Tears welled up in her eyes again. "I'm just...so alone. And I don't know how to make it stop hurting."

Tommy could hear the anguish and loneliness in his niece's voice. His heart broke for her all over again. He quickly pulled the truck over to the side of the road and put it in park.

Turning to face Aoibheann, Tommy took both of her hands in his, making her meet his caring gaze.

"Now you listen to me, love," he said firmly but gently. "You are not alone in this world, you hear me? Not as long as I'm still breathing."

Aoibheann's eyes widened slightly at her uncle's impassioned words. Tommy gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.

"Your mum may have dropped the ball in a big way, but I'm not going anywhere. We're family. And I'll be right here by your side through this whole thing, every single step of the way."

Tears slipped down Aoibheann's cheeks as she wrestled with a swirl of emotions—sadness, anger, but also a glimmer of hope at her uncle's promise.

"You really mean that?" she asked in a small voice. "You're not just saying that?"

"Of course I mean it!" Tommy insisted. "When have I ever lied to you? You're the most important person in my life, Aoibheann. I'm not about to abandon you when you need me most."

He reached up and tenderly wiped away the stray tears on her cheek with his thumb.

"We're going to get through this night, okay? Together. You, me, and whatever help the doctors say you need. I've got your back."

Aoibheann looked at her uncle for a long moment, seeing nothing but fierce love and loyalty in his warm brown eyes. She gave a shaky nod.

"Okay...okay," she said, a faint but genuine smile tugging at her lips for the first time that day. "Together."

Tommy pulled her into a tight, comforting hug, cradling her head against his shoulder.

"That's right, love. You and me against the world if we have to. I'm never letting you feel alone again, I swear it."

New Haven, Connecticut

Four Years Later

Aoibheann pulled into the parking lot of the mental health center where she saw her therapist, Dr. Eliza Bennett. At 20 years old, she had made tremendous strides in managing her depression and leaving those dark days of her teenage years behind. After the incident at school, her uncle Tommy had been true to his word - he was there for her every step of the recovery process. With intensive therapy, a support system, and finally getting properly medicated, the clouds slowly lifted from Aoibheann's mind.

She had even achieved her dream of becoming an Air Force pilot, graduating at the top of her class last year. Flying gave her a sense of freedom and cleared her head like nothing else. But there was still one lingering issue she couldn't shake. Aoibheann walked into the office, waving to the receptionist she had gotten to know well over the years. Soon she was ushered back to Dr. Bennett's office and settled into the familiar plush chair.

"It's good to see you, Aoibheann," the therapist smiled warmly. "How have you been since our last session?"

"Overall, I've been doing really well," Aoibheann replied. She smoothed her palms over the fabric of her cargo pants "My job is amazing and I finally feel like I have some control over my life."

Dr. Bennett nodded. "But there's something still bothering you?"

Aoibheann hesitated, then sighed. "It's...the voice. It's gotten louder lately."

The therapist's face became serious, though not surprised. They had worked through Aoibheann's experiences of hearing an inner voice ever since she first opened up about it years ago.

"Tell me more about what's been happening," Dr. Bennett prompted, grabbing her notepad.

"Well, it started out like it always did," Aoibheann explained. "Just kind of a whisper in the back of my mind, usually when I was stressed or upset. Easy enough to ignore or tell myself it wasn't real."

She twisted a gold ring around her thumb, a nervous habit. "But over the last few weeks, it's become more frequent. And a lot louder - like someone is actually yelling at me constantly." Aoibheann shuddered. "And the things it says...God, they're horrible. It's like this non-stop torrent of negativity and hate."

Dr. Bennett's brow furrowed with concern. "I see. And you're certain it's not just your own negative self-talk that we've worked on managing?"

"No, it's different," Aoibheann insisted, shaking her head adamantly. "It doesn't sound like my voice or my thoughts at all. It's...I don't know, like some other entity is in my head, screaming at me."

She looked up at her therapist, fear visible in her hazel eyes. "What if I'm going crazy again, Doc? What if the depression is coming back, but this time with weird hallucination crap?"

Dr. Bennett maintained a calm, reassuring demeanor as Aoibheann voiced her fears. She made a few notes before speaking again.

"Let's not jump to conclusions about your mental health just yet," the therapist said evenly. "We've worked too hard to get you to a good place for it all to unravel now."

She tapped her pen against her notepad thoughtfully. "However, this voice you're describing is definitely concerning. Tell me, have you considered if it could be related to the stresses of your job as a pilot?"

Aoibheann's brow furrowed as she considered this. "I guess it's possible? Flying can be really high-pressure at times. But I've always been able to handle that pretty well."

"That may be true," Dr. Bennett acknowledged. "But you are still dealing with extremely dangerous, life-or-death situations on a regular basis. Not to mention being away from home for long stretches. That's a lot of strain, even for the most capable person."

She fixed Aoibheann with a caring but meaningful look. "Have you thought about taking some leave from the Air Force? Even just temporarily to get this voice under control? Your mental health has to come first."

The question hung in the air as Aoibheann mulled it over. Leaving her dream job behind, even for a little while, caused a flicker of panic to rise within her.

"I...I don't know," she said, struggling to find the right words. "Flying is everything to me. It's my passion, my purpose. Losing that, even temporarily..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

Dr. Bennett gave an understanding nod. "I can understand your hesitation. But you can't be at your best up there if you're being bombarded by this negative voice constantly. It could become a serious safety issue."

She leaned forward, maintaining gentle eye contact. "Just think about it, okay? Explore all your options. If the Air Force is worth keeping, it'll still be there for you after getting some help."

Aoibheann knew her therapist made a fair point. She had come so far in regaining control of her mental health—she couldn't let this unexplained phenomenon pull her under again.

"You're right, Doc. I'll...I'll really think it over," she said at last. "Facing my problems head-on is how I've gotten to where I am. No point in running from them now."

Dr. Bennett gave an approving smile. "That's the spirit. We'll get through this like we have everything else, one step at a time. I'm here for you, Aoibheann."

Metropolis

2043

6:30 AM

The sun had barely begun to peek over the towering skyscrapers when Aoibheann jolted awake. She found herself slumped over a workbench in the back of "Mack's Mechanics," surrounded by scattered tools and the half-disassembled engine of a hover car. Disoriented, she blinked rapidly, trying to piece together how she'd ended up here. The last thing she remembered was getting ready for bed in her small apartment across town. Yet here she was, still in her work overalls, with grease stains on her hands.

"What the hell?" she muttered, rubbing her temples. A dull ache pulsed behind her eyes, and that all-too-familiar whisper echoed faintly in the recesses of her mind.

The sound of the front door chime snapped her to attention. Mack, her boss, shuffled in with his usual cup of steaming coffee.

"McDougal? You're here early," he grunted, surprise evident in his gruff voice.

Aoibheann quickly straightened up, forcing a casual smile onto her face. "Oh, yeah. Couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd get a head start on the Johnsons' engine," she lied smoothly, gesturing to the parts spread out before her.

Mack raised an eyebrow but didn't question further. "Well, good initiative. Just don't burn yourself out."

As he wandered to the front office, Aoibheann let out a silent sigh of relief. She glanced at her watch—6:30 AM. How had she lost nearly eight hours? And more importantly, how had she traveled across the city in her sleep?

She shook her head, trying to clear the fog. This wasn't the first time she'd experienced these... gaps. But they seemed to be happening more frequently lately.

"Get it together, Aoibheann," she whispered to herself, picking up a wrench. "You've got work to do."

As she dove back into the engine repair, she pushed aside the nagging worry and the faint whisper in her mind. Whatever was happening, she'd deal with it later. Right now, she had to focus on keeping up appearances and getting through another day.

Aoibheann stepped out onto the busy Metropolis sidewalk, lunch bag in hand and her mind preoccupied with the lingering disorientation from her early morning blackout. The noises of the city swirled around her—car engines, shouts from street vendors, the ever-present hum of hover traffic in the skylanes above.

She shook her head as if to clear her fuzzy thoughts and started across the crosswalk towards her favorite hot dog stand. That whisper still niggled at the back of her mind, growing louder and more insistent by the minute.

Halfway across the street, the squeal of tires made Aoibheann's head whip around. Her eyes widened in shock as a battered ground car came barreling straight towards her, clearly having run the red light at dangerous speeds.

Time seemed to slow as she braced herself for the inevitable impact. But just before the vehicle could strike, Aoibheann felt herself being snatched up by a powerful force and flung backwards out of harm's way.

She landed hard on her back, the wind knocked out of her. Blinking against the bright sunlight, a familiar figure in red and blue came into focus—the unmistakable form of Superman himself.

"You okay, miss?" The Man of Steel gave a concerned look as he crouched beside her.

Aoibheann could only nod numbly, utterly stunned. Only a few blocks from where she worked, and she'd nearly been killed!

Relief flickered across Superman's chiseled features before his expression hardened with resolve. Without another word, he turned and blasted off into the sky in a blur of motion, quickly catching up to the fleeing vehicle.

From her spot on the pavement, Aoibheann watched in awe as the hero wrenched the driver's side door clean off. He reached in and plucked out not one but four stunned-looking armed men, depositing them unceremoniously onto the street.

The whispers in her head suddenly grew into a piercing shriek, as if a thousand voices were screaming in agony all at once. Aoibheann cried out, clutching her skull as she was bombarded by the noise. The sounds of the city drowned out into a dull static tone. Then, as quickly as it started, the screaming stopped.

A deathly hush fell over Aoibheann. The unearthly silence pressed against her like a crushing weight until she thought she might suffocate.

"Miss? Miss, are you alright?"

She blinked rapidly as Superman's concerned face swam back into view. His voice sounded oddly distorted, like he was speaking through a long tunnel.

Aoibheann gave a shaky nod, her heart still pounding out of her chest. "Y-yeah...I'm okay."

As she slowly climbed to her feet, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something wasn't quite right. That voice, those screams—hadn't been just in her mind.

Something was happening to her. And she needed to find out what before whatever it was consumed her completely.