February 27, 2046 – four days after Amina Begum stepped back through the Eternal Bridge as the Hearthkeeper.
The Watchtower orbited Earth like a silver crown, silent and vigilant above the blue marble. Inside the central conference 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 in quiet wonder. Wonder Woman (Diana Prince) stood tall, lasso coiled at her hip, eyes curious and warm. Batman (Bruce Wayne) remained in shadow near the back wall, arms folded, cape draped like a shroud—silent but watching every movement. The Flash (Barry Allen) tapped his foot at super-speed, creating a soft blur of red. Green Lantern (Hal Jordan) floated slightly off the floor, ring glowing emerald. Aquaman (Arthur Curry) leaned on his trident, trident tip resting lightly on the floor. Cyborg (Victor Stone) interfaced with the table, cybernetic eye scanning data streams.
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, its light reflecting in the polished metal of the table.
Eternal Hearth – Status Screen Activated
User: Amina Begum (Hearthkeeper)
Current Location: Justice League Watchtower (Orbital Nexus – Heroic Convergence Point)
Sign-In Status: Available (First Orbital Sign-In – High Heroic Density Node)
Base Template: Eternal Hearth (Healer/Support)
Current Abilities:
• Passive: Mother's Warmth – Aura of calm + minor healing (5 HP/sec) to all allies within 50 meters; immune to fear/anger manipulation for 30 seconds after activation
• Active: Recipe of Resolve – Summon any healing remedy/comfort food from any culture/world; restores 50% health + removes debuffs (1-hour cooldown)
• Active: Lullaby of Comfort – Sing a Saraiki/Punjabi lullaby to heal emotional wounds + remove despair debuff (45-minute cooldown)
• Passive: Hearth Presence – +20% persuasion & emotional stability when offering food/drink
• Passive: Family Echo – +15% healing effectiveness when near family members New Sign-In Reward Pool (Watchtower Node):
• League Hearth Aura (Passive: +25% team cohesion & recovery rate during missions)
• Mother's Table (Active: Summon a full meal for up to 10 allies – restores full health + morale boost, 2-hour cooldown)
• First League Bond – Justice League Bond Effect: Shared Heroic Resolve (all League members gain +10% resistance to mind/emotion manipulation when near Amina)
Superman broke the silence first—gentle, respectful, voice carrying the warmth of Kansas plains.
"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 to every corner of the chamber, "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—almost shyly.
"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."
Hal Jordan's ring glowed brighter.
"That's… impressive. And terrifying. You could disarm entire armies with a cup of tea."
Amina laughed softly—the laugh of a mother who has heard every excuse.
"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—steady, warm.
"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—then back to Amina.
"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—gentle, sisterly.
"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; Flash with a grin; Green Lantern with a salute; Aquaman with a bow of his head; Cyborg with a thumbs-up.
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.
Superman spoke first—voice soft.
"I lost my father too. He never got to see me become… this. But he taught me to stand for truth. You remind me of him."
Wonder Woman nodded.
"My mother raised me on Themyscira. She taught me to fight for peace. You carry that same peace in your hands."
Batman—still in shadow—spoke quietly.
"I lost my parents when I was eight. I've spent my life trying to stop that pain from happening to anyone else. Your chai… it reminds me what I'm fighting for."
Flash grinned—mouth full.
"This is the best thing I've eaten in years. You're officially my favorite League member."
Green Lantern laughed.
"Barry, you say that to every snack."
Aquaman:
"In Atlantis, we share food to seal alliances. You have sealed ours."
Cyborg:
"My mom used to make mac and cheese when I was a kid. Before… everything. This tastes like home."
Amina listened—really listened—to each of them. She refilled bowls, asked gentle questions, shared stories of her own: raising Ahmed alone after her mother-in-law's harsh words, waiting for him during his college years, praying every night he'd come home safe.
When the last bowl was empty, she spoke—voice soft but carrying.
"You are all someone's child. Someone's hope. Someone's story. And stories don't end. They grow. Keep growing. Keep loving. Keep fighting—not with anger, but with heart."
She stood—small, dignified, unbreakable.
"I will sit at your table. I will listen. I will remind you that even heroes need chai and a mother's hug."
The League rose—some bowing, some saluting, some simply nodding.
Superman extended his hand.
"Welcome to the Justice League, Amina Begum."
She took it—small hand in large.
"Call me Ammi," she said. "All of you."
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 orbit.
And love—quiet, warm, eternal—kept it strong.