## Central City University Library - 4:47 PM
The library's third floor was Karan's preferred study spot—quiet enough for concentration, but with enough ambient noise from other students that he didn't feel completely isolated. He'd claimed a desk near the mythology section, spreading out his notes for Dr. Chen's paper on the intersection of divine intervention and human agency in ancient texts.
The irony of writing about mythological heroes while literally carrying divine armor wasn't lost on him.
His phone vibrated against the desk, and he glanced at the screen to see Cisco's name flashing with the kind of urgency that meant something significant was happening.
"Please tell me this is about dinner plans and not about another crisis," Karan said quietly, keeping his voice low enough not to disturb nearby students.
"I wish." Cisco's voice carried the controlled panic that came from monitoring emergency frequencies while trying to coordinate superhero response. "Armed robbery in progress, three blocks from your location. Armored van transporting diamonds and precious gems from the jewelry district got hit by what looks like a professional crew."
Karan was already gathering his materials, his enhanced hearing picking up the distant sound of sirens approaching from multiple directions. "Casualties?"
"Two security guards injured, not life-threatening but they need medical attention. The suspects are heavily armed and currently loading the cargo into a panel truck. Barry's already en route—he was at CCPD when the call came through."
"Three blocks from here puts them on—" Karan pulled up a mental map of the area, his armor's tactical systems already calculating optimal approach vectors. "Fifth and Morrison. That's residential area, lots of potential civilian exposure."
"Exactly why we need both of you on this. Barry can handle speed evacuation if things get messy, but we need someone who can provide aerial overwatch and prevent the suspects from escaping via vehicle."
Karan was moving toward the library's emergency stairwell, the one that provided roof access through a maintenance door he'd scouted weeks ago specifically for situations like this. "What's CCPD's response time?"
"Captain Singh has units converging, but they're still two to three minutes out. The suspects are going to try to leave before that window closes."
"Then we stop them before they get that chance." Karan pushed through the roof access door, afternoon sunlight hitting his face as he manifested his armor in a flow of golden radiance. "Cisco, I need real-time positioning on both the suspect vehicle and Barry's approach vector."
"Sending to your HUD now. Barry's coming in from the east, moving at approximately 400 miles per hour. The suspects are loading the last of the cargo—looks like they're about thirty seconds from attempting escape."
Karan launched himself into the air, his flight systems engaging with the smooth efficiency that still amazed him despite weeks of practice. From three hundred feet up, he could see the entire scene—the disabled armored van sitting at an awkward angle in the intersection, the panel truck pulled alongside it, and four figures moving with the kind of practiced coordination that suggested military or law enforcement training.
*Professional crew,* he confirmed, noting their tactical positioning and the way they maintained overlapping fields of fire. *This isn't some desperate amateurs—these people know what they're doing.*
"Barry," Karan said through their team communication channel, "I'm in position above the scene. Four suspects, all armed with what look like automatic weapons. They're using the panel truck for cover, which means any ground approach is going to expose you to potential crossfire."
"Copy that." Barry's voice carried the focused intensity that came with high-speed movement. "Can you provide distraction from above? Something that makes them look up instead of at ground level?"
"That's becoming my signature move." Karan manifested his bow, drawing back a golden arrow that pulsed with concentrated energy. "On my mark, you move in and disable their vehicle. I'll keep them focused on the sky."
He released the arrow toward the pavement directly in front of the panel truck, not aiming to hit anyone but to create a spectacular display that would capture their complete attention. The arrow struck concrete with a sound like controlled thunder, and golden light exploded outward in patterns that were both beautiful and unmistakably supernatural.
All four suspects immediately looked up, weapons tracking toward the source of the disturbance, their professional training warring with obvious shock at the appearance of a golden-armored figure hovering above them.
"Now, Barry!"
The Flash hit the scene as a red blur that moved too fast for unenhanced human perception to track. In less than two seconds, he'd disabled the panel truck's engine, punctured all four tires, and removed the firing pins from every weapon the suspects were carrying. By the time they realized something was happening at ground level, their means of escape and their ability to offer armed resistance had been completely neutralized.
"CCPD!" Captain Singh's voice boomed from approaching units. "Drop your weapons and put your hands on your heads! You are surrounded and outmatched!"
The suspects, finding themselves suddenly disarmed and facing both aerial and ground-based superhuman opposition, made the practical decision to comply. They dropped to their knees, hands raised, expressions carrying the kind of frustrated acceptance that came from recognizing when you'd been comprehensively defeated.
Karan descended slowly, his armor's radiance providing dramatic backlight as CCPD units moved in to secure the scene. Barry had already disappeared, probably circling back to avoid revealing his base of operations, but the evidence of his intervention was obvious in the systematically disabled vehicle and mysteriously malfunctioning weapons.
"Karna." Captain Singh approached with the careful respect that law enforcement generally reserved for powered individuals whose cooperation they needed but couldn't command. "Good work. Fast response, minimal collateral damage, and you left us suspects in condition to face trial."
"Just doing what needed to be done, Captain." Karan studied the scene, noting the injured security guards being treated by paramedics. "How are the victims?"
"They'll recover. Looks like the suspects were going for speed over violence—knocked them out rather than shooting them." Singh's expression was grim. "Though that might have changed if you and the Flash hadn't arrived when you did."
One of the suspects was being searched by an officer, and Karan's enhanced vision caught the flash of what looked like a sophisticated communications device. "Captain, you might want to check their equipment. The coordination and professionalism suggests this wasn't an isolated job."
Singh moved to examine the device, his expression growing more troubled. "You're thinking organized crime?"
"I'm thinking these people were trained by someone who knew what they were doing. The tactical positioning, the timing, the way they maintained fields of fire—that's not amateur hour." Karan gestured at the disabled panel truck. "Plus, professional armored van robbery in broad daylight requires either desperation or significant backing from someone with resources."
"We'll run them through the system, see if they connect to any known operations." Singh looked up at Karan, and there was something almost paternal in his expression. "You're getting better at this. The tactical assessment, the coordination with the Flash, the restraint in using force—that's the kind of judgment that makes the difference between vigilante and hero."
The compliment hit harder than Karan expected, probably because it came from someone whose opinion actually mattered in terms of law enforcement cooperation. "Thank you, Captain. That means a lot coming from you."
"Just keep doing what you're doing. Central City needs heroes who understand that power comes with responsibility." Singh paused, then added more quietly, "And if you happen to be in contact with the Flash, tell him the same thing. What you two did here today—that's the kind of heroism this city needs."
As CCPD finished processing the scene, Karan lifted back into the air, circling once to make sure everything was under control before heading back toward the university. His phone was already buzzing with messages—probably Cisco and Barry wanting to debrief about the operation.
But before he checked his messages, Karan allowed himself a moment to process what Captain Singh had said. *Hero.* Not vigilante, not enhanced individual, not even superhero. Just *hero.*
Someone who understood that power came with responsibility.
His phone finally demanded attention with enough vibration to be concerning.
**Cisco:** THAT WAS AMAZING! Did you see the way Barry disabled their entire operation in under three seconds? And your arrow strike was PERFECT! The visual effect alone probably scared them more than the actual threat!
**Barry:** Good coordination. We're getting better at the whole "work as a team" thing. Also, Captain Singh specifically asked me to thank you for the aerial support. He's impressed.
**Caitlin:** Both of your vitals remained stable throughout the engagement. Good stress management, appropriate force application, efficient resolution. I'm actually starting to believe you two might survive this superhero thing.
**Kendra:** Saw the news coverage. You're getting quite the reputation as Central City's golden guardian. Coffee later to discuss how your public profile is developing? ;)
Karan grinned at the screen, particularly at Kendra's message. The winking emoticon was a nice touch—playful, flirtatious, suggesting their relationship was moving in exactly the direction he'd hoped.
**Karan:** [To team group chat] Thanks for the support. Couldn't have done it without Cisco's coordination and Barry's speed. We make a good team.
**Karan:** [To Kendra] Public profile is developing faster than I'd like, but that's probably inevitable. Coffee sounds perfect—when and where?
**Kendra:** Tonight? I'm thinking somewhere we can talk without being overheard. I might have some information about those robbery suspects you'll find interesting.
**Karan:** Information how? Should I be concerned that you're investigating armed criminals?
**Kendra:** Let's just say I've been paying attention to patterns in organized crime activity, and what you just stopped might be connected to something larger. Details over coffee.
**Karan:** You're going to give me a heart attack with your casual mentions of investigating organized crime. But yes, tonight works. Where?
**Kendra:** That place near campus. The one with terrible music but excellent privacy. 7 PM?
**Karan:** I'll be there. And Kendra? Thank you for looking out for connections we might have missed.
**Kendra:** That's what partners do. See you tonight.
Karan landed on the library rooftop, his armor dissolving as he made his way back to his abandoned study materials. The mythology paper could wait a few more hours—right now, he needed to coordinate with his team about the implications of professional criminals operating in Central City, and then figure out what Kendra had discovered that made her think the robbery was part of something larger.
The day had started with academic research and ended with armed robbery intervention. Tomorrow would bring dinner with Iris, team expansion discussions with Wells, and whatever complications came from operating as public heroes with secret identities.
*This is my life now,* Karan thought, settling back into his library desk and pulling up his notes. *College student, superhero, potential romantic interest of someone who apparently investigates organized crime as a hobby, and secret opponent of a time-traveling supervillain who thinks I don't know his true identity.*
It was exhausting just thinking about it.
But it was also exactly what he'd asked for when he'd accepted the R.O.B.'s offer of a second chance. A life of meaning, of purpose, of using extraordinary abilities to help people who couldn't help themselves.
Even if that life came with significantly more complications than his first one had offered.
His phone buzzed one more time.
**Wells:** Karan, I saw the news coverage of this afternoon's robbery intervention. Excellent work. When you return to the facility, please stop by my office. I'd like to discuss some developments regarding your public visibility and how we might manage the growing attention you and Barry are receiving.
Karan stared at the message, feeling the familiar chill that came from any direct communication with Eobard Thawne. Whatever "developments" Wells wanted to discuss were almost certainly part of his larger manipulation scheme.
But refusing the meeting would only make him suspicious, and Karan needed to maintain his cover as the naive hero who trusted his guardian's guidance.
**Karan:** Of course, Dr. Wells. I'll be back at the facility in about an hour.
**Wells:** Excellent. I'm looking forward to our conversation.
As Karan returned to his mythology paper, he found himself thinking about divine intervention and human agency—the central theme of his research, and apparently the central theme of his new life.
The gods might provide power, but how that power was used remained a human choice.
And Karan was determined to make choices that honored the second chance he'd been given, even when those choices meant operating in the complicated space between Wells' manipulation and his own moral imperatives.
One crisis at a time.
Starting with a mythology paper, then a meeting with a time-traveling supervillain, then coffee with someone who apparently investigated organized crime for fun.
*Definitely exhausting,* he thought with a slight smile. *But never boring.*
And in a universe where gods walked among mortals and ancient powers manifested in modern contexts, boring was probably the last thing he needed to worry about.
—
## Industrial District - Snart's Current Base of Operations - 5:15 PM
The warehouse Leonard Snart had appropriated for his planning operations was exactly the kind of anonymous industrial space that Central City's economic decline had left scattered across the district like abandoned chess pieces. Three stories of concrete and corrugated metal, officially condemned but structurally sound enough for his purposes, with enough legitimate foot traffic in the surrounding area that his comings and goings wouldn't attract undue attention.
The main floor was empty except for the sophisticated computer setup he'd assembled in what used to be the foreman's office—six monitors arranged in a semicircle, each displaying different feeds and data streams that painted a comprehensive picture of Central City's emerging superhero situation.
Leonard leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled as he watched footage of the jewelry district robbery play out across multiple screens simultaneously. News coverage on monitors one and two, CCPD radio traffic transcript on three, social media compilations on four, and his own analysis software running predictive models on five and six.
The robbery itself had been a spectacular failure by conventional metrics—his hired crew was currently sitting in CCPD lockup, the cargo had been recovered intact, and civilian casualties were zero. Any competent criminal mastermind would look at those results and consider the operation a complete disaster.
But Leonard Snart had never been interested in conventional metrics.
"Two minutes, seventeen seconds from initial alarm to Flash arrival," he murmured, noting the timestamp on the CCPD transcript. "Another forty-three seconds until Karna made his dramatic entrance from above. Total response time: three minutes flat, give or take a few seconds for coordination."
He pulled up the aerial footage that some enterprising civilian had captured on their phone, watching the golden-armored figure descend through the air with movements that suggested both power and careful control. The arrow strike had been pure theater—effective for capturing attention, but deliberately non-lethal in its application.
"Interesting," Leonard said to the empty warehouse, his voice carrying the flat affect of someone thinking out loud rather than expecting response. "You could have incapacitated the entire crew with that kind of firepower, but you chose intimidation over violence. Either you're squeamish about inflicting harm, or you're very confident in your partner's ability to handle the tactical situation."
He pulled up the footage showing the Flash's intervention—enhanced and slowed down to one-tenth speed so he could actually see what the speedster was doing. The precision was remarkable: disable the vehicle, puncture the tires, remove firing pins from weapons, all accomplished in movements that blurred even at reduced playback speed.
"No wasted motion, no showboating, just efficient neutralization of threats." Leonard made notes on his tablet, his handwriting precise and methodical. "You've been training. Probably extensively, given how much better your control is compared to your first public appearances three weeks ago."
The hired crew had served their purpose perfectly. Leonard had selected them specifically because they were competent enough to present a legitimate threat, but not connected enough to trace back to him when they inevitably failed. Anonymous contracts through the dark web, payments in cryptocurrency that had been laundered through enough accounts to be effectively untraceable, and explicit instructions to surrender peacefully if confronted by enhanced individuals.
They'd followed those instructions exactly, which meant Leonard now had comprehensive data about how Central City's heroes responded to professional criminal operations.
He pulled up a tactical map of the city, marking the locations of previous hero interventions with red dots. The pattern that emerged was interesting—both the Flash and Karna showed preference for responding to situations with immediate civilian threat. Bank robberies, car accidents, building fires, domestic violence calls. But they'd been conspicuously absent from several high-value thefts that had occurred in the past two weeks.
"You're triage responders," Leonard concluded, adding more notes to his analysis. "You prioritize saving lives over protecting property. Which means you'll ignore a sophisticated cargo theft if there's a more pressing emergency happening simultaneously."
The cargo theft he was planning would require exactly that kind of distraction.
S.T.A.R. Labs was moving a shipment of experimental technology this weekend—Leonard had confirmed the schedule through multiple sources, cross-referencing security company contracts with transportation permits and employee schedules. The official manifest listed the cargo as "laboratory equipment and research materials," but Leonard's sources suggested something far more interesting: prototype weapons systems that Harrison Wells had been developing since the particle accelerator explosion.
Energy weapons, specifically. Technology that could theoretically disrupt metahuman abilities or provide non-enhanced individuals with firepower capable of challenging superhuman threats.
Leonard wasn't interested in the weapons for their destructive potential. What he wanted was the underlying technology—the power generation systems, the energy focusing arrays, the miniaturized components that made such concentrated force possible in portable configurations.
Because if you could build a gun that disrupted metahuman abilities, you could also build a gun that replicated them.
And Leonard Snart had very specific plans for what he could accomplish with access to that kind of technology.
His phone buzzed with an encrypted message from one of his technical consultants—a former S.T.A.R. Labs engineer who'd been quietly selling information since the facility's post-explosion restructuring.
*"Convoy schedule confirmed. Three armored vehicles, twelve security personnel, route takes them through industrial district Saturday evening. Estimated window: 8:15-8:45 PM."*
Leonard replied with a simple acknowledgment, then pulled up satellite imagery of the planned route. The convoy would be traveling through an area with minimal civilian presence during evening hours, which reduced potential complications but also meant CCPD would have clear lines of sight for response.
Unless, of course, they were dealing with a more pressing emergency elsewhere in the city.
He opened a new window on his computer, accessing a list of potential distractions he'd been compiling. Fires could be unpredictable and risked genuine casualties. Building collapses were too dramatic and would draw excessive investigation. Traffic accidents were too random to control timing precisely.
But a hostage situation in a public location? That would require immediate hero response, especially if the perpetrators appeared unstable enough to harm civilians.
Leonard made more notes, sketching out the logistics of creating a convincing crisis that would draw both Flash and Karna away from the industrial district long enough for him to acquire the S.T.A.R. Labs cargo.
He'd need another crew of hired professionals—disposable, untraceable, competent enough to create genuine threat but ultimately expendable. The dark web had plenty of candidates willing to take high-risk contracts if the payment was sufficient.
The hostage situation would need to be at least fifteen minutes away from the convoy route, preferably in a location that would make aerial approach difficult for Karna. Maybe the Central City Mall—multiple levels, complex interior spaces, enough civilians to create genuine danger without requiring actual violence.
His phone buzzed again, this time with a news alert about the jewelry district robbery. He skimmed the article, noting with satisfaction that the reporter had focused entirely on the heroes' response rather than questioning who had organized such a professional operation.
*"Flash and Karna Foil Daring Daylight Robbery,"* the headline proclaimed. *"Central City's Guardian Heroes Continue Perfect Track Record."*
Perfect track record. Leonard smiled without humor at the phrase. Every success created expectations, and every expectation created vulnerabilities. The heroes were building a reputation as infallible protectors, which meant they would feel compelled to respond to every crisis, every threat, every civilian in danger.
That compulsion was exactly what Leonard intended to exploit.
He pulled up the footage one more time, watching the coordinated takedown with professional appreciation. The Flash and Karna worked well together—complementary abilities, clear communication, efficient division of labor. They were becoming a genuine team rather than just two enhanced individuals operating in proximity.
Which meant they would develop predictable patterns, consistent tactics, reliable responses that could be studied and countered.
Leonard made a final set of notes before shutting down his systems for the evening. The S.T.A.R. Labs heist would require meticulous planning, precise timing, and careful management of multiple variables. But if he could pull it off—if he could acquire the technology he needed while the heroes were distracted elsewhere—he would have everything necessary to level the playing field between enhanced and non-enhanced individuals.
Because Leonard Snart had learned one fundamental truth during his years as a professional thief: power wasn't about what abilities you were born with. It was about what tools you could acquire and how intelligently you used them.
The heroes thought they had the advantage because they could fly and run at impossible speeds. But they were still bound by their moral imperatives, their need to protect innocents, their unwillingness to make the hard choices that separated survivors from casualties.
Leonard had no such limitations.
He gathered his equipment, wiping down surfaces to remove any forensic evidence, and prepared to abandon this location. The warehouse had served its purpose as a planning space, but he never used the same location twice if he could avoid it.
As he walked out into the early evening air, Leonard found himself thinking about the golden-armored hero he'd been studying. Karna—the name was from Indian mythology, if Leonard remembered his research correctly. A warrior known for his generosity and loyalty, who had died because he couldn't abandon his principles even when they led him to destruction.
*Appropriate,* Leonard thought, unlocking his nondescript sedan and preparing for the drive to his next temporary base. *Heroes always die for their principles eventually. The only question is how many people they take down with them.*
Saturday evening would be the first real test of whether Central City's heroes could adapt to genuine strategic opposition. The jewelry district robbery had been a training exercise—a way to measure their capabilities and response patterns.
The S.T.A.R. Labs heist would be the actual game.
And Leonard Snart had always been very, very good at games.
---
## Later That Evening - Different Location
Leonard's "home" base—if such a temporary arrangement could be called a home—was a modest apartment in Central City's midtown district. Not wealthy enough to attract attention, not poor enough to invite suspicion, just another anonymous unit in a building full of people who kept to themselves and asked no questions.
The interior was spartan: functional furniture, minimal decoration, nothing that couldn't be abandoned on short notice if circumstances required rapid relocation. But the technology setup was considerably more sophisticated than the average resident's—encrypted communications, multiple backup systems, physical security measures that would have impressed intelligence agencies.
Leonard poured himself exactly two fingers of bourbon—his nightly ritual, never more and never less—and settled into his chair to review the day's intelligence gathering one final time.
The Flash and Karna had responded to fourteen separate incidents over the past three weeks. Categorizing them revealed a clear pattern:
- Immediate life-threatening situations: 100% response rate, average arrival time 3.2 minutes
- Property crimes without civilian danger: 35% response rate, average arrival time 8.7 minutes
- Traffic accidents: 85% response rate, average arrival time 4.1 minutes
- Domestic disturbances: 60% response rate, average arrival time 6.3 minutes
The data painted a picture of heroes who prioritized based on civilian safety rather than property value or legal severity. Noble, in its way. Also predictable.
Leonard pulled up his notes on S.T.A.R. Labs' security protocols. Harrison Wells had significantly upgraded the facility's defenses since the particle accelerator explosion, but most of those improvements focused on protecting the building itself rather than external shipments.
The convoy transporting experimental technology would have standard private security—well-trained, well-equipped, but fundamentally human personnel who couldn't possibly compete with enhanced individuals if things went wrong.
Which was where Leonard's advantage lay. He wasn't enhanced. He was just a man with above-average intelligence, exceptional planning skills, and absolutely no moral qualms about using whatever tools were necessary to accomplish his objectives.
His phone buzzed with another encrypted message, this time from his weapons supplier.
*"Cold gun prototype ready for field testing. Power output stable, range approximately 50 meters, effective against organic and inorganic targets. Will freeze human target solid in 3-4 seconds, metals in 5-7 seconds. Battery life: 200 shots at maximum power."*
Leonard smiled—a real smile this time, carrying genuine satisfaction. The cold gun had been his pet project for months, ever since he'd realized that the particle accelerator explosion had created an environment where conventional weapons were increasingly obsolete.
If you couldn't match enhanced individuals in speed or strength, you changed the playing field entirely. Make them slower. Make them weaker. Turn their biological advantages into vulnerabilities.
Absolute zero had a way of equalizing all biological processes.
He'd field-test the weapon during the S.T.A.R. Labs heist. Not against the heroes directly—that would come later, once he had more data about its effectiveness. But against the convoy security, as a demonstration of what non-enhanced individuals could accomplish with the right technology.
Leonard finished his bourbon, rinsed the glass, and prepared for bed with the methodical routine of someone who understood that discipline was the foundation of success. Tomorrow would bring more planning, more intelligence gathering, more careful construction of the framework that would let him operate successfully in a city full of heroes.
But tonight, he allowed himself a moment of anticipation.
Central City was about to learn that enhanced abilities weren't the only form of power worth respecting.
And Leonard Snart was about to demonstrate that the most dangerous opponent wasn't always the one with supernatural capabilities.
Sometimes, the most dangerous opponent was simply the one who planned better than everyone else.
—
## Jitters Coffee Shop - Evening Shift - 6:45 PM
The evening rush at Jitters had finally subsided, leaving Iris and Kara with the familiar task of resetting the coffee shop for the next day while a handful of die-hard caffeine enthusiasts occupied corner tables with laptops and textbooks. Iris was wiping down the espresso machine when her phone buzzed with an incoming text, and her face immediately lit up in a way that Kara had learned meant good news about someone she cared about.
"Barry got back to me," Iris announced, holding up her phone with obvious satisfaction. "He and Karan are both interested in meeting. Tomorrow evening, actually, if that works for your schedule."
Kara felt her pulse quicken despite her attempt to maintain casual interest. "Here at Jitters?"
"That's what I suggested. Public location, familiar territory for me, casual enough that it won't feel like a formal interview." Iris set down her cleaning cloth, her journalistic instincts clearly engaged. "Barry mentioned that Karan might be bringing someone else—another student who's dealing with similar post-explosion complications."
"Similar how?"
"He wasn't specific over text, which probably means it's someone with enhanced abilities who's being cautious about exposure." Iris's expression carried the kind of focused intensity that suggested she was already planning her approach to the interview. "Which makes sense—if I were dealing with superhuman capabilities, I'd want to assess the journalist before revealing anything substantive."
Kara continued cleaning tables while processing this information, trying to balance her Supergirl knowledge of Central City's hero community with her Kara Danvers persona's supposed ignorance. "So we're potentially meeting with three enhanced individuals tomorrow evening? That's... that's actually kind of incredible from a journalism perspective."
"It is. Though I'm trying not to get too excited in case they decide at the last minute that talking to a reporter is too risky." Iris pulled out her tablet, already making notes about potential interview questions. "Barry's been very protective about his situation—he's confirmed that he has enhanced reflexes and improved physical capabilities, but he's been vague about the extent or specific applications."
"And this Karan person?"
"I haven't met him yet, but Barry speaks very highly of him. Apparently they were roommates during their comas, and they've been helping each other adjust to their new capabilities." Iris looked up from her tablet, her expression thoughtful. "From what Barry's told me, Karan was affected more dramatically by the explosion than most people—something about his family being involved in archaeological research that was connected to the accident."
Kara felt a chill as she recognized the description of the golden-armored hero she'd worked alongside. Iris didn't know that her mysterious interview subjects included Central City's most publicly visible superhero, which meant tomorrow's dinner was going to be significantly more complicated than a simple conversation about enhanced abilities.
"What's your angle for the story?" Kara asked, trying to redirect the conversation while she processed the implications. "I mean, there are a lot of different ways you could approach the subject of enhanced individuals."
"That's what I've been struggling with," Iris admitted, setting aside her tablet with obvious frustration. "The human interest angle is obvious—people affected by a scientific accident trying to navigate their new normal. But there's also the larger story about how society responds to the emergence of superhuman capabilities."
She stood up, moving to look out Jitters' front windows at the evening foot traffic passing by.
"We're living through a fundamental shift in what's possible, Kara. Ten months ago, the idea of humans with actual superpowers was science fiction. Now we have credible reports of people who can run faster than cars, fly through the air, create energy constructs out of nothing..." Iris's voice carried a mixture of excitement and concern. "And the official response has been to downplay it, dismiss it as exaggeration or hoax, act like nothing fundamental has changed."
"You think the authorities are deliberately suppressing the story?"
"I think they don't know how to handle it, so they're defaulting to denial and damage control." Iris turned back to face Kara, her expression intense. "But that approach doesn't work when people are literally watching superheroes rescue them on live television. At some point, the official narrative is going to collapse under the weight of observable reality."
Kara found herself nodding despite the complications this created for her own mission. "So you want to be the journalist who breaks that story properly? The one who takes enhanced individuals seriously instead of treating them like urban legends?"
"I want to tell the truth," Iris said simply. "About what happened during the particle accelerator explosion, about the people who were affected, about the choices they're making with their new abilities. And I want to do it in a way that respects their humanity while acknowledging their extraordinary circumstances."
"That's ambitious."
"That's journalism." Iris returned to the counter, her energy renewed by articulating her goals. "My editors at the Picture News thought I was wasting time chasing conspiracy theories. But if I can put together a comprehensive story with actual interviews from enhanced individuals, with documentation of their abilities and their impact on the city... that's the kind of work that defines a career."
Kara felt a surge of respect for Iris's determination, even as she recognized the potential complications of having a journalist investigating the same people Kara was supposed to be monitoring. "What if your interview subjects don't want the publicity? What if they're trying to maintain private lives despite their abilities?"
"Then I respect that," Iris said immediately. "I'm not interested in exposing people who want to remain anonymous. But I am interested in changing the narrative around enhanced individuals—making sure they're seen as people dealing with extraordinary circumstances, not threats or freaks or convenient symbols for whatever political agenda someone wants to push."
She pulled up her notes again, scrolling through what appeared to be extensive research.
"Take this Karna person—the golden-armored hero who's been appearing in public rescues. The official CCPD line is that they're 'investigating reports of an individual in costume.' But anyone who watches the footage can see that this person has genuine supernatural abilities. They're not just wearing a costume—they're manifesting actual energy constructs, flying at impossible speeds, demonstrating capabilities that defy conventional physics."
"You sound like you admire them," Kara observed carefully.
"I admire anyone who uses power responsibly to help others," Iris replied. "That's worth documenting, worth celebrating, worth protecting from the kind of institutional dismissal that treats heroes as public relations problems."
Kara's phone buzzed with a message from Clark, but she ignored it in favor of continuing this conversation. Iris was revealing perspectives about Central City's hero community that would be valuable for understanding how civilian populations perceived enhanced individuals.
"So tomorrow evening," Kara said, "what's your plan? Just casual conversation, or are you going in with specific questions?"
"Both, hopefully. I want them to feel comfortable enough to be honest, but I also need to gather actual information that can form the basis of a credible story." Iris began listing items on her fingers. "Background on the explosion and how they were affected. Description of their current capabilities and how those have developed. Their perspective on using enhanced abilities to help others. Their concerns about public exposure and institutional response."
"That's a lot of ground to cover over coffee."
"It's a starting point. If they're willing to continue the conversation beyond tomorrow, I can develop a more comprehensive profile." Iris looked at Kara directly, her expression serious. "I know you're interested in these stories too, for your journalism program. If you want to collaborate on this—pool our research, share interview access—I'd be open to that."
The offer was genuine and generous, and it created exactly the kind of access to Central City's enhanced community that Kara's mission required. But it also meant potentially deceiving someone who was quickly becoming a friend, someone whose journalistic integrity and moral clarity Kara genuinely respected.
"I'd like that," Kara said carefully. "Though I should probably mention that my interest in enhanced individuals isn't purely academic."
Iris's eyebrows rose. "Oh?"
"I..." Kara paused, weighing how much to reveal. She'd been planning to maintain complete separation between her civilian and superhero identities, but Iris's obvious commitment to honest journalism and her connection to Central City's heroes made that separation increasingly difficult to maintain. "I've been affected by some unusual circumstances myself. Nothing as dramatic as what Barry and Karan are dealing with, but enough that I understand what it's like to have abilities that complicate your relationship with normal life."
It wasn't quite a confession of her Supergirl identity, but it was closer to honesty than maintaining complete deception.
Iris studied her face for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "That explains why you're so interested in the social impact research. You're not just studying the phenomenon—you're trying to understand your own place in it."
"Something like that."
"Well then, tomorrow's dinner should be very interesting indeed." Iris's smile was warm, accepting, carrying no judgment about Kara's vague admission. "Four people dealing with extraordinary circumstances, trying to figure out how to navigate a world that doesn't quite have frameworks for what we're experiencing."
"We?" Kara asked carefully.
"I might not have enhanced abilities, but I'm definitely dealing with extraordinary circumstances." Iris gestured at the coffee shop around them. "My best friend wakes up from a nine-month coma with superhuman reflexes. Central City is developing an actual superhero community. And I'm trying to document it all while working minimum wage at a coffee shop because I chose personal loyalty over professional advancement."
She laughed, though the sound carried more resignation than humor.
"So yeah, we're all in extraordinary circumstances. The question is whether we can figure out how to support each other through them, or whether we're all just going to muddle through independently and hope for the best."
Kara found herself smiling despite the complications surrounding tomorrow's meeting. "Support sounds better than muddling."
"Support sounds much better than muddling," Iris agreed. "Which is why I'm glad you're going to be there tomorrow. Barry and Karan need to know they're not alone in dealing with this, and I need to know I'm not crazy for thinking these stories matter."
"You're definitely not crazy," Kara assured her. "These stories matter. Probably more than any of us fully understand yet."
As they finished closing the coffee shop for the evening, Kara found herself thinking about the convergence of circumstances that was bringing together Central City's enhanced community under the guise of a casual dinner interview. Tomorrow evening would include the Flash, Karna, possibly Hawkgirl, a journalist determined to document their stories, and Supergirl pretending to be a normal college student.
It was either going to be the beginning of something genuinely important, or the beginning of complications that would make her mission in Central City significantly more difficult.
Possibly both.
But as Iris locked up Jitters and they prepared to head their separate ways, Kara realized she was looking forward to tomorrow evening despite the risks. Because for the first time since arriving in Central City, she would be able to interact with other heroes as something approaching equals rather than as the established Kryptonian monitoring new players.
And that felt like exactly the kind of honest connection she'd been missing since her depression had driven her away from Metropolis.
Even if it came with complications she couldn't fully anticipate.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there!