Kael Virel remembered dying. Or… something like it. In that moment, there was pain—white-hot and absolute—followed by silence.
Then light.
He awoke screaming in an alleyway in Gotham City, his body small, infantile, unfamiliar. His cries were shrill, sharp enough to shatter a car window across the street. A woman found him moments later. Her name was Lysa Virel—a quiet café owner who couldn't bear children and didn't ask questions.
She told people he was adopted. That was enough.
But Kael grew quickly. By age ten, he could lift a refrigerator and hear Lysa's heartbeat from the other side of their apartment. He once shattered a brick wall just from slamming his locker shut. He never asked where his strength came from.
Not until the day he saw the cape in the sky.
Superman. It awoke something. A deep thrum in Kael's blood.
And a voice in the back of his mind whispered, You were like him once… but more.