Lily[/@ch_2] glides down the hallway, her every step purposeful, hair flawless, lips a perfect crimson.]
Lily smiles, her laugh ringing out like a bell, drawing the eyes of students and teachers alike. Boys whisper admiringly, while girls nudge each other, muttering about her as the standard to beat. Behind the practiced charm, an invisible tension coils—her secret strength thrumming beneath the surface, unseen but ever-present.
Lily[/@ch_2] lingers at the edge, gaze distant. A memory flickers: the screech of tires, the impossible weight of a car caught one-handed, her feet never quite touching the ground.]
She remembers the surge of power, the way light fixtures trembled when anger burned in her chest. In the present, she masks her might with a smile, letting others believe she’s fragile. "Can you carry my books?" she asks a boy with a sweet giggle, playing her part perfectly, hiding the storm within.
Lily[/@ch_2]’s skin—Talon is thrown hard against a beam, the structure rattling as dust falls like ash.]
She stands tall, heart racing with exhilarated relief rather than fear. The air thickens, minds around her glowing in her perception—each memory, each thought of Lily, brilliantly clear. She lifts a hand, threads of memory shimmering before her eyes. "Forget her," she whispers, and with a sharp twist, her existence unravels from their world.
Lily[/@ch_2] emerges from beneath the bleachers, no longer the girl everyone knew. Her cheer uniform is gone, replaced by skin-tight black leather and a blood-red cropped jacket, boots laced high.]
In her reflection, she sees someone formidable—dangerous, magnetic, untouchable. She smiles at her new self, her eyes glowing faintly in the glass. "What’s your name?" she asks the reflection. The answer comes, cool and certain—[@ch_1]"Supergirl,"[/@ch_1_d]—a promise and a warning.
Supergirl[/@ch_1] floats above, wind teasing her hair, jacket flashing crimson and black. Below, phones rise to capture the spectacle, faces upturned in awe and fear. She points at a payday lender’s billboard, the metal shrieking and folding in on itself until it crashes to the ground.]
Gasps and screams ripple through the crowd, but no one is harmed—only terrified. Supergirl laughs, the sound low and electric, vibrating through the air. "New rules," she purrs, her voice carrying on the wind, "You get me." The town, stripped of Lily, now faces something far less predictable.
Supergirl[/@ch_1]. Officers cluster below, guns raised, voices booming through bullhorns. Supergirl lounges midair, amused, her posture languid and mocking.]
"Aww, you really brought all your toys for little old me?" she calls, lips twisted in a smirk. As bullets fly, they freeze midair—an orbiting halo of metal—before streaming upward in harmless sparks. Supergirl lands in front of the nearest officer, boots tapping softly on asphalt, eyes burning with power. "Run along," she whispers, "You’re not built for this game."
Supergirl[/@ch_1] soars higher, jacket flaring in the wind, the world shrinking below her. The girl they called Lily is gone—forgotten, erased, a casualty of her own liberation.]
Now, Supergirl is unbound, a force of nature with no past to hold her down. The night is hers—alive with possibility, danger, and the thrill of being truly seen at last. The town trembles, uncertain what new rules she’ll write, but one truth remains: Supergirl is just getting started.
