Amina Begum Joins the Justice League
The Watchtower hung in low Earth orbit like a silver crown above the blue marble. Inside the central chamber, the founding members of the Justice League stood in a loose semicircle around the holographic table. Superman (Clark Kent) leaned forward, arms crossed, brows furrowed. Wonder Woman (Diana Prince) stood tall, lasso coiled at her hip, eyes curious. Batman (Bruce Wayne) remained in shadow, silent but watching. The Flash (Barry Allen) tapped his foot at super-speed, creating a soft blur. Green Lantern (Hal Jordan) floated slightly off the floor, ring glowing. Aquaman (Arthur Curry) leaned on his trident. Cyborg (Victor Stone) interfaced with the table, scanning.
And in the center—small, dignified, ajrak shawl draped over simple salwar kameez, rolling pin tucked under her arm like a scepter—stood Amina Begum, the Hearthkeeper.
The Eternal Hearth device on her wrist pulsed soft green.
Sign-In Location: Justice League Watchtower (Orbital Nexus – Heroic Convergence Point)
Reward Unlocked: League Hearth Aura
Passive Ability: Mother's Table (All allies within 50 meters gain +20% stamina regeneration + emotional stability; immune to fear/anger manipulation for 30 seconds after activation)
Active Ability: Recipe of Resolve (Summon any healing remedy or comfort food from any culture/world; restores 50% health + removes debuffs, 1-hour cooldown)
New Title: The Eternal Mother – Recognized by the Justice League as a non-combatant support member with full access and protection
Superman broke the silence first—gentle, respectful.
"Mrs. Begum… Amina… thank you for coming. We've seen a lot of strange things in our line of work, but a grandmother from another world who carries stories and chai as weapons? That's new."
Amina smiled—the same warm, knowing smile that once silenced crying grandchildren or calmed family storms.
"Beta," she said in Urdu-accented English, voice soft but carrying, "I am no hero. I am only a mother. But when my son built a bridge between worlds, I learned one thing: every world needs a mother. Someone to listen. Someone to feed. Someone to say 'beta, everything will be alright' when the night is long."
Diana stepped forward—Amazonian grace meeting South Asian warmth.
"In Themyscira, we honor those who nurture life as much as those who defend it. You carry both in your hands."
She gestured to the rolling pin.
Amina lifted it slightly.
"This? Only for dough. And sometimes for naughty children who steal mangoes."
Barry laughed—speed blurring for a second.
"Okay, that's adorable. But seriously—your device. The Eternal Hearth. It's not tech. It's not magic. It's… love?"
Amina nodded.
"Love is the oldest power. Older than any ring, any hammer, any spear. I died in my son's arms under a mango tree. The One Who Watches All Worlds said I had spent a lifetime building bridges with cups of chai and listening ears. He gave me this—" she tapped the device—"so I could keep doing it. Across worlds. Across time."
Batman spoke—low, measured.
"You sealed a minor rift in Gotham last week. Non-violently. The criminals surrendered without a fight. They said… an old woman offered them tea and asked why they were afraid. They couldn't remember why after that."
Amina shrugged modestly.
"I only asked questions. Bulleh Shah taught me that. 'Bulleh ki jaana main kaun?' When a man remembers he is more than his fear, he puts down the gun."
Hal Jordan's ring glowed brighter.
"That's… impressive. And terrifying. You could disarm entire armies with a cup of tea."
Amina laughed softly.
"Armies are made of sons, beta. And every son needs his mother's chai sometimes."
Arthur (Aquaman) leaned on his trident.
"You're not asking to join the League for glory. You're asking to help."
Amina met his eyes.
"I'm asking to sit at your table. To listen when you are tired. To remind you that even gods and heroes need someone to say 'beta, rest now.'"
Cyborg's cybernetic eye scanned her—then softened.
"Her vitals are… human. But her energy signature is off the charts. It's not power. It's… connection. Like she's linked to every heart in this room."
Superman looked at the others.
"She's not here to fight. She's here to heal. And in our line of work… we need that more than we admit."
Diana placed a hand on Amina's shoulder.
"In the name of the Justice League, we welcome you, Amina Begum, Hearthkeeper. Not as a warrior, but as our mother."
The others nodded—Batman silently, but with respect.
Amina smiled—eyes shining.
"Then sit. All of you. I brought sheer khurma. And stories."
She opened the tiffin.
The greatest heroes in the world sat on the floor of the Watchtower—capes pooling, armor clanking, masks set aside—and ate sheer khurma from steel bowls while an old Punjabi mother told them about her son who built a bridge between worlds, about her husband who crossed once and never came back, about grandchildren who carried legends in their blood.
And for the first time in years, the Justice League felt… home.
Later, when the others had gone, Batman remained—silent.
Amina handed him the last bowl.
"Beta," she said softly, "you carry the heaviest story. Let me carry a piece of it."
Batman took the bowl—hands steady, but eyes softer.
"Thank you… Ammi."
She smiled.
"Anytime, beta. Chai is always ready."
The chapter closed on the Watchtower—stars wheeling outside, heroes resting inside, a small Punjabi mother humming Pathanay Khan as she cleaned the bowls.
The bridge had crossed another world.
And love—quiet, warm, eternal—kept it strong.