Capítulo 59: Chapter 59 (edited)
The crisis in Gotham City had passed, and with Batman's tireless efforts, the criminal underworld was crumbling. Peace seemed to have returned to Gotham.
As for Kara Zor-El, she had stopped keeping up with Gotham's news. Instead, she spent her days resting at home, embracing a routine of jogging mornings and evenings while walking her dog.
One day, during a conversation, Clark Kent made the mistake of teasing her. "You're not old yet," he said with a grin.
Kara raised an eyebrow, her arms crossing. At twenty-eight, she was a decade older than Clark, who had just turned eighteen. Unlike many origin stories where Supergirl remained suspended in the Phantom Zone for years, Kara had arrived on Earth with Clark, albeit a little earlier. Now, the looming milestone of her thirtieth birthday was a sore subject.
"Oh, so you're saying I'm middle-aged now?" she asked, her tone cold as ice.
Clark immediately threw up his hands in surrender, but it was too late. A mischievous smirk tugged at Kara's lips as she cracked her knuckles ominously.
"Uh, Kara?" Clark began, retreating a step.
"You've been slacking off, little cousin," she said, her eyes gleaming with mock menace. "I think it's time you learned a lesson."
And with that, Kara began what she called "special training." She used the excuse of Clark's apparent laziness to teach him everything she'd learned about hand-to-hand combat. To keep the playing field level, neither of them could use super strength. Instead, Kara focused on technique and precision, ensuring that Clark internalized every move through firsthand experience—painfully so, on occasion.
Kara's lessons didn't stop at physical combat. She introduced Clark to the control of psychokinesis, a skill she had been honing ever since discovering a rare Kryptonian artifact in her travels.
"Clark, we're not invincible," she explained one day after pinning him to the ground with an elegant flip. "Yes, we're strong, but we have weaknesses. You need to know what can hurt us, even kill us."
She went on to explain the vulnerabilities of Kryptonians. The red sun's rays, which could strip them of their powers, were the first on her list. "If you ever find yourself in outer space, avoid red suns at all costs," she warned.
Then came the more immediate danger: kryptonite. Kara described its effects with clinical precision. "It's a deadly toxin to us, Clark. Even prolonged proximity can render us powerless. You need to learn how to defend yourself against it."
She demonstrated how a psychokinetic shield could block harmful substances, sharing her personal experience during Gotham's recent crisis. "When I was in that poisonous mist, I used this technique to keep the toxins out. It could do the same for kryptonite radiation."
Clark, though initially skeptical, threw himself into the training. He recognized Kara's genuine concern for him, and he didn't want to let her down.
Despite their age difference, Kara often acted more like a protective older sister than a cousin. Perhaps it was because they were the last Kryptonians, bound by shared heritage and responsibility. Or maybe it was simply her way of coping with the loneliness that sometimes crept in. Regardless, she was determined to prepare Clark for any threat he might face.
Their month of training passed quickly. By the time Clark left for college in Metropolis, he had gained a solid foundation in combat and psychokinesis. Kara drove him there herself, a bittersweet moment as they said goodbye.
Jonathan Kent had wanted to come along, but Clark convinced him to stay home with Martha. "I'll visit every week or month, I promise," Clark assured them.
Martha, however, gave Kara a pointed look. "That's what she said when she left, and then she disappeared for three years!"
Kara grinned sheepishly and hurriedly ushered Clark into the car before any more guilt could be thrown her way.
When her vacation ended, Kara returned to her life in Metropolis. On the drive back, her car's radio played a cheerful tune, momentarily distracting her from the trunk full of groceries she'd promised to restock her apartment with. She enjoyed the solitude, humming along to the music as the city skyline came into view.
Her peaceful drive was interrupted by her phone ringing. Flipping it open—it was still the age of 2G phones, and Kara wasn't ready to invest in the clunky prototypes of smartphones—she answered.
The voice on the other end belonged to Jennifer Walters, her coworker and close friend.
"Kara, guess what?" Jennifer exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement. "I'm being transferred to Gotham! Isn't that amazing?"
Kara nearly slammed on the brakes in shock, narrowly avoiding an accident. "Jennifer, are you crazy? Gotham is practically a war zone! Why would you want to go there?"
But Jennifer couldn't be dissuaded, her enthusiasm undeterred by Kara's protests. Kara could only sigh, her thoughts drifting to the strange pull Gotham seemed to have on everyone she cared about.
As the Metropolis skyline loomed closer, she resolved to stay focused on her work—and to keep an ear out for any trouble brewing in Gotham. Trouble, after all, had a way of finding her no matter where she went.
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