I wake with a start, my eyes fluttering open to a room bathed in soft, golden light. For a moment, I’m disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings sending a jolt of panic through my system. But as my gaze sweeps across the luxurious bedroom, memories of the previous night come flooding back. The portal, the lab, Skye... Skye!

I sit up abruptly, the silky sheets sliding down my chest. The bed is enormous, a California king that could easily fit four people. The mattress is like a cloud, cradling my body in a way that makes me wonder if I’ve ever truly experienced comfort before. A floor-to-ceiling window takes up one entire wall, offering a breathtaking view of the Boston skyline bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun.

My clothes from yesterday are neatly folded on a nearby chair, and I realize I’m wearing silk pajamas that definitely aren’t mine. The fabric whispers against my skin as I move, so soft it’s almost imperceptible.

As I’m taking in my surroundings, trying to process the events that led me here, I hear a sharp, insistent knocking from somewhere in the penthouse. My heart rate quickens as I strain to listen, catching the sound of Skye’s voice, muffled but unmistakable.

“Dark Star,” Skye’s voice carries a note of annoyance, “waltz right in, why don’t you?”

Another voice, low and authoritative, responds, “Where is he?”

As I strain to listen, the bedroom door suddenly bursts open, revealing a figure that makes my jaw drop. A woman strides in, her presence commanding and intimidating. She’s clad in a sleek, black costume that hugs her athletic frame, complete with a flowing cape and a bat-like mask covering the upper half of her face. The outfit is eerily reminiscent of a certain Dark Knight from the comics I used to read.

“Batman?” I blurt out incredulously, my eyes wide with disbelief.

The woman’s lips curl into a wry smile. “No, the name’s Dark Star,” she corrects, her voice low and gravelly. As she steps further into the room, I notice a glowing green necklace adorning her neck, pulsing with otherworldly energy.

Dark Star’s piercing blue eyes scan the room before settling on me. Her gaze is intense, almost penetrating as if she’s trying to read my very thoughts. “Are you alright?” she asks her tone a mixture of concern and suspicion. “Did Super Star do anything to make you uncomfortable last night?”

Before I can respond, Skye saunters into the room, her movements graceful and confident. She’s wearing a silky robe that barely reaches mid-thigh, her long brown hair tousled in a way that suggests she just rolled out of bed. Without a word, she plops down on the bed next to me, her hip brushing against mine. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through my body, and I have to suppress a shiver.

“Really, Dark Star?” Skye drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Accusations before breakfast? That’s a new low, even for you.”

I feel a surge of annoyance at Dark Star’s implication. Despite the bizarreness of my situation, Skye has been nothing but kind and helpful. “No,” I say firmly, meeting Dark Star’s gaze. “Skye didn’t do anything to make me uncomfortable. She’s been incredibly helpful, actually.”

Dark Star’s eyes narrow, flicking between Skye and me. The tension in the room is palpable, like the air before a thunderstorm. “I see,” she says slowly, her tone suggesting she doesn’t quite believe me. “And you’re here of your own free will?”

“Of course,” I say, my voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and mild irritation. “Skye saved me from that lab and offered me a place to stay. I’m here because I want to be.”

Dark Star’s expression remains skeptical, but she nods curtly. “Very well. We should really get going. I’ll accompany you to Star Tower for your reintegration process.”

A wave of anxiety washes over me at the thought of leaving this familiar sanctuary, as strange as it may seem, Skye’s presence has been my only anchor in this bewildering new world. “Can Skye come with me?” I ask, my voice smaller than I intended.

At my words, Skye’s eyes flash with an intense, almost predatory gleam. She slides closer to me on the bed, her arm snaking around my waist in a possessive gesture. Her lips curve into a smug smile as she locks eyes with Dark Star. “As if you could get rid of me,” she purrs, her voice low and sultry.

The tension in the room ratchets up a notch, the air crackling with an unspoken challenge between the two superheroines. Dark Star’s jaw clenches visibly beneath her mask, her gloved hands curling into fists at her sides.

“Protocol dictates we separate you from anything unfamiliar while you acclimate,” Dark Star says, her tone clipped and professional, though I can hear the undercurrent of frustration. “It’s for your own good to ensure a smooth transition.”

Skye’s grip on me tightens, and I feel her warm breath on my ear as she leans in close. “Apparently,” she says, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction, “I was his wife in another world.”

Dark Star’s eyes widen behind her mask, a flicker of shock breaking through her composed facade.

“Is that true?” Dark Star asks. Her blue eyes lock onto mine, searching for any hint of deception or coercion.

I nod slowly, feeling the weight of Skye’s arm around my waist. “Yes,” I confirm, my voice steady despite the surreal nature of the situation. “In my world, Skye and I were married.”

Dark Star’s posture shifts subtly, her body angling towards me as if trying to shield me from some unseen threat. Her gloved hand twitches as though she’s fighting the urge to reach out and pull me away from Skye’s embrace.

“I see,” she says, her tone measured and cautious. Her eyes never leave mine as she speaks, and I can almost see the gears turning behind them, assessing and analyzing every detail of the situation. “And you’re certain you want Skye to accompany you to the integration session?”

There’s something in her voice, a note of desperation that seems at odds with her intimidating appearance. It’s as if she’s silently pleading with me to reconsider, to see some danger that I’m blind to.

I glance at Skye, taking in her triumphant smirk and the possessive gleam in her eyes. Then I look back at Dark Star, noting the tense set of her jaw and the way her cape seems to quiver slightly as if reflecting her inner turmoil.

“Yes,” I say firmly, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice. “I want Skye with me.”

“Very well,” she says, her voice tight with barely contained emotion. “If he wants you there and you’re free, then we’d be delighted to have you, leader.” The last word comes out almost as a challenge, laced with a complexity of emotions I can’t quite decipher.

“Even if you never once have shown up to one of these reintegration sessions before.” Dark Star adds in before getting up.

Skye’s face lights up with a smile that’s equal parts triumph and mischief. “There’s always a first time for everything,” she purrs.

As Dark Star takes her leave, the tension in the room dissipates like mist in the morning sun. I’m left alone with Skye, her presence both comforting and electrifying. She turns to me, her green eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper, something that makes my heart race.

“Get changed,” she says, her gaze roaming over me appreciatively. “As much as I enjoy the view, we can’t have you going to Star Tower in those pajamas.”

I can’t help but flush under her intense scrutiny. It’s uncanny how similar she is to my Skye, the possessive glint in her eye, the way she loves to challenge others, even the timbre of her voice as she teases me. For a moment, I’m transported back in time to lazy Sunday mornings in our tiny apartment, Skye’s laughter filling the air as she playfully ordered me out of bed.

‘I have to lock her down ASAP.’

As Skye saunters out of the room, her hips swaying hypnotically, I can’t help but feel a pang of regret. A missed opportunity hangs in the air, thick and heady like perfume. I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts that threaten to overwhelm me. With a heavy sigh, I focus on willing away the physical evidence of my attraction.

As I finish dressing, I take a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever weird new shit this day might bring.

*****

As we approach our destination, I can’t help but marvel at the imposing structure of Star Tower. It rises above the surrounding buildings like a beacon of futuristic architecture, its sleek lines and gleaming surfaces a testament to the advanced technology of this world.

‘Low key, looks like a rip off of Stark Tower.’

Skye begins our descent, and I feel my stomach lurch with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. We spiral downwards in lazy circles, giving me a breathtaking 360-degree view of the city.

With a graceful touchdown, Skye lands on the rooftop helipad of Star Tower. The landing pad is a marvel of engineering, with blinking lights and automated systems that spring to life as we arrive. As she sets me down, I stumble slightly, my legs wobbly from the exhilarating flight.

Skye steadies me with a hand on my arm. Her green eyes sparkle with amusement as she takes in my flushed face and windswept hair.

“Why are you blushing?”

I run a hand through my hair, trying to tame the wild strands. “It’s just weird to be carried like a girl,” I admit, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Skye’s brow furrows in confusion, her head tilting to the side in a gesture so familiar it makes my heart ache. “No, no,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m definitely holding you like a guy when I fly.”

I blink, taken aback by her response. “That’s the princess carry,” I explain, gesturing with my hands to mimic the position.

“No,” Skye insists, her voice filled with certainty. “It’s a prince carry.”

I open my mouth to argue, then close it again. The absurdity of debating the gendered nature of superhero flight carries with an alternate version of my dead wife suddenly hits me. I feel lost, adrift in a sea of familiar yet alien concepts.

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“Alright,” I say finally, deciding it’s not worth pursuing.

I follow closely behind Skye into the building.

*****

The red-haired scientist from last night, whose name tag identifies her as Dr. Eliza, greets me with a barely contained enthusiasm as I tiredly walk out of the examination room. Her thick-rimmed glasses magnify her eyes, giving her an owlish appearance as she blinks rapidly at me.

“Mr. Lyon,” she says, her voice pitched high with excitement, “we’ve completed all your preliminary tests. Blood work, X-rays, psychological evaluations, the works!”

I nod, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the barrage of tests I’ve endured over the past few hours. My arm still throbs from where they drew what felt like a gallon of blood, and my head spins from the battery of questions about my past and my mental state.

Dark Star stands off to the side, her cape draped dramatically around her as she surveys the scene with a critical eye. Her presence seems to cast a shadow over the room, a stark contrast to the bright, sterile environment of the lab.

“And?” I ask, my voice betraying my nervousness. “Am I... normal?”

Dr. Eliza’s eyes light up behind her glasses. “Oh, yes! Well, as normal as one can be after interdimensional travel. Your physiology is remarkably similar to that of our dimension’s humans,” she pauses, blushing, looking at something on a clipboard.” With only minor variations that we attribute to environmental factors in your world.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, relief washing over me. At least I’m not some sort of freak of nature.

Skye, who has been uncharacteristically quiet throughout this process, suddenly speaks up. Her voice carries a note of impatience as she addresses Dr. Eliza. “Eliza, you still haven’t talked about his superpower.”

The words hang in the air, charged with potential. Dr. Eliza’s eyes widen even further if that’s possible, and she practically vibrates with excitement. Even Dark Star seems to perk up, her posture straightening as she takes a step closer.

“We’re not there yet,” Dark Star interjects, her voice low and cautionary. But there’s an undercurrent of curiosity in her tone that betrays her interest.

Dr. Eliza’s eyes light up with unbridled excitement. She practically bounces on her toes as she gestures for me to follow her. “Oh, this is absolutely fascinating! Come, come, Mr. Lyon. We prepared this to test your newfound abilities.”

She leads me to a corner of the lab where a large, transparent cube stands. It’s about chest-high, made of what looks like reinforced glass or some kind of ultra-durable plastic. The top of the cube has two circular openings, each lined with a flexible, rubberized material.

“This is our Containment and Analysis Chamber,” Dr. Eliza explains, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “It’s designed to safely contain and study various superhuman abilities. Now, Super Star mentioned something about... noodle fingers?”

I can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. “I think it was ramen, actually,” I clarify, still not quite believing the words coming out of my mouth.

Dark Star, who has been silently observing until now, steps forward. Her cape swishes dramatically as she moves, adding an air of gravity to her words. “Could that distinction be important?” she asks, her tone serious.

Dr. Eliza shrugs, her excitement momentarily tempered by uncertainty. “It’s hard to say at this point. The specifics of superhuman abilities can sometimes have unexpected implications. But for now,” she turns back to me, her enthusiasm returning full force, “let’s just see if you can turn it on, Luke.”

I swallow hard, suddenly feeling nervous. The weight of their expectations presses down on me like a physical force. “I think I can maybe turn it off and on,” I say, my voice wavering slightly. “At least, I did last night.”

Skye gives me an encouraging nod, her green eyes locked on mine. There’s an intensity in her gaze that both comforts and unnerves me, just like the original.

Taking a deep breath, I step up to the cube and gingerly insert my hands through the openings. The rubberized material feels cool against my skin as I flex my fingers, trying to summon the strange power I experienced last night. I close my eyes, concentrating hard, willing the ramen to appear.

Nothing happens.

I open one eye, peeking down at my hands. They remain stubbornly noodle-free. Frustration bubbles up inside me as I try again, scrunching my face with effort. Still nothing.

“It’s not working,” I mutter, embarrassment coloring my cheeks.

Dr. Eliza nods sympathetically, her glasses glinting under the harsh laboratory lights. “Don’t worry, Mr. Lyon. This is quite common. I’ve seen many newly awakened supers struggle to activate their powers at first. It’s all about finding the right trigger.”

Dark Star steps forward, her cape rustling softly. Her piercing blue eyes lock onto mine, filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. “What exactly was happening when your power first manifested?” she asks, her voice low and intense.

My face instantly flushes a deep crimson as the memory of last night floods back. Skye’s sultry gaze, her lips mere inches from mine, the heat of her body so close... I swallow hard, unable to meet Dark Star’s eyes.

Skye, noticing my discomfort, saunters over with a cheeky grin. “Oh, he was thinking about me,” she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Staring at my pillowy lips, weren’t you, Luke?”

Dark Star’s jaw clenches visibly beneath her mask. “Stop messing around, Super Star,” she growls, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

As embarrassing as Skye’s teasing is, her words trigger something else in my mind. Thoughts of my late wife come rushing back. Her laugh, her smile, her threatening texts, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams of opening a Blockbuster franchise. And suddenly, I remember how much she loved ramen. It was her comfort food, her go-to meal after a long day. We’d sit on our tiny couch, slurping noodles and watching terrible movies, her head resting on my shoulder...

A tingling sensation begins in my fingertips, spreading slowly up my arms. I look down, my eyes widening in amazement as thin streams of golden noodles begin to emerge from my fingertips, twisting and coiling in the air before falling into the cube.

“Lets fucking go!,” I exclaim, watching in awe as the ramen flows steadily from my hands.

Dr. Eliza’s eyes widened in amazement as she watched the ramen noodles materialize from my fingertips. Her mouth hangs open in a perfect ‘O’ of astonishment, and she leans in close to the cube, her nose nearly pressed against the transparent surface.

“Wonderful!” she exclaims, her voice filled with childlike wonder. “It’s as if they’re appearing out of thin air! I wonder if the molecular structure must be forming instantaneously at the quantum level. This could defy all known laws of physics!”

The noodles continue to flow, golden and steaming, coiling and twisting as they fall into the cube.

Dr. Eliza scribbles frantically on her clipboard, muttering to herself about mass-energy conversion and spontaneous matter generation. Her excitement is palpable, radiating off her in waves as she circles the cube, examining the phenomenon from every angle.

Skye, however, looks less than thrilled. Her brow furrows as she watches Dr. Eliza’s enthusiasm grow. With a sharp clearing of her throat, she interrupts the scientist’s reverie.

“Hey, Doc,” Skye says, her voice tinged with annoyance and a hint of concern. “Last night, once he finally turned it off, he passed out. So don’t push him too hard, alright?”

Dr. Eliza blinks, momentarily taken aback by Skye’s intervention. She adjusts her glasses, looking slightly chastened. “Oh, yes, of course. We wouldn’t want to exhaust Mr. Lyon. Thank you for the reminder, Super Star.”

After about a minute of continuous noodle production, during which the cube has filled nearly a quarter of the way with ramen, Skye steps forward. “Alright, Luke,” she says, her tone gentle but firm. “I think that’s enough for now. You can stop.”

Grateful for the reprieve, I nod and close my eyes. Remembering how I managed to shut off the flow last night, I visualize that mental switch again. This time, it’s much easier to locate in my mind’s eye. I imagine myself reaching out and firmly flipping it off.

The tingling sensation in my fingertips gradually fades, and the stream of noodles slows to a trickle before stopping completely. I open my eyes, letting out a relieved sigh as I wiggle my now noodle-free fingers.

“Fascinating,” Dr. Eliza murmurs, her eyes still fixed on the cube full of ramen. “The cessation of the ability appears to be just as instantaneous as its activation. Mr. Lyon, how do you feel?”

I take a deep breath, assessing my physical state. To my surprise, I feel remarkably good, energized even. The fatigue that had plagued me after last night’s noodle incident is nowhere to be found. Instead, there’s a pleasant warmth coursing through my body, as if I’ve just finished an invigorating workout.

“I feel fine, actually,” I say, flexing my fingers.

Dr. Eliza’s eyes light up with fascination. She scribbles furiously on her clipboard, muttering to herself about metabolic rates and energy conversion. After a moment, she looks up at me with a satisfied nod.

“Well, Mr. Lyon, I believe we’ve gathered enough data for now,” she says, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I think we’re ready to show you to the room we’ve prepared for your stay here at Star Tower.”

Before I can respond, Skye lets out a melodious laugh that sends shivers down my spine. “Oh no, no, no,” she says, her voice rich with amusement. In one fluid motion, she steps forward and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close.

The sudden contact with Skye sends a jolt through my system. Her body is warm against mine, solid and real in a way that makes my heart ache with longing.

“This one’s gonna crash at my penthouse for the foreseeable future,” Skye declares, her tone leaving no room for argument. Her green eyes sparkle as she looks at me, a smirk playing on her lips.

I can’t help but lean into her embrace, savoring the feeling of Skye’s warmth again after so long. It’s intoxicating, and I find myself not wanting to let go.

Dark Star steps forward. Her blue eyes narrow behind her mask as she speaks to Skye.

“No, your schedule’s too packed, Super Star,” Dark Star says firmly. “Unless you want to miss your interview with Box News tonight?”

Skye’s body tenses against mine, her arm tightening almost imperceptibly around my waist. Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Fuck,” she mutters under her breath, the word barely audible.

The atmosphere in the room shifts, the air becoming thick with tension. Skye’s gaze locks onto mine, and I’m struck by the intensity in her emerald eyes. There’s a desperateness there, a hunger that seems to go beyond mere physical attraction. It’s as if she’s trying to memorize every detail of my face, afraid I might vanish if she looks away.

Finally, Skye lets out a long, resigned sigh. Her shoulders slump slightly, the weight of her responsibilities visibly settling upon her. “Well,” she says, her voice tinged with reluctance, “duty calls.” Her grip on me loosens, but she doesn’t step away just yet. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

I nod, trying to keep my expression neutral even as fear claws at my insides. The thought of losing her again, even if just for a night, sends a wave of panic through me. “Okay,” I manage to say, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

Skye’s frown deepens as she studies my face. She sighs again, this time with a hint of frustration. Without warning, she pulls me into a tight embrace. I melt into her touch, savoring the warmth and solidity of her body against mine.

“Be careful,” she whispers in my ear, her breath tickling my skin and sending a shiver down my spine. “Giving a girl like me that kind of face...” She pulls back slightly, her eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat. “It might just drive me crazy.”

Skye reluctantly releases me from her embrace, her fingers trailing along my arm as she steps back. Then, with a dramatic flourish of her cape, she turns and strides towards the balcony.

The sun bathes her in a golden glow as she reaches the edge. She pauses, silhouetted against the sky, her hair whipping in the wind. “See you tomorrow, Luke,” she calls over her shoulder, her voice carrying a hint of longing.

In one fluid motion, Skye leaps into the air. For a breathless moment, she seems suspended, defying gravity. Then she soars upward, her form growing smaller against the vast expanse of blue. I watch until she’s nothing more than a speck on the horizon, my chest aching with a mixture of awe and loss.

Dark Star clears her throat, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room.

“I’ll show you to your accommodations,” she announces. She turns to Dr. Eliza, who jumps slightly at being addressed. “We’re done here for today, correct?”

Dr. Eliza nods rapidly, her glasses slipping down her nose. “Oh, yes, of course! We’ve gathered plenty of data for now. Thank you, Mr. Lyon. We’ll continue your reintegration tomorrow.”

I reluctantly go with Dark Star into the elevator, like a puppy missing its owner.

*****

[Dr Eliza’s POV]

The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime, revealing Dark Star. Her imposing figure seems to fill the entire doorway, her cape billowing behind her as she steps into the lab.

Dark Star lets out a heavy sigh. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability from the usually stoic heroine. “I’m worried about him,” she says, her voice low and tinged with concern. “I’ve never seen Super Star sink her fangs into a guy before.”

I set down my clipboard, pushing my glasses up my nose as I consider her words. “What can we do?” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s her world. We’re just living in it.”

Dark Star shoots me an annoyed look, her blue eyes flashing behind her mask. I resist the urge to take a step back, reminding myself that we’re on the same side. After a moment, her expression softens slightly.

“Did you notify Mr. Lyon’s sister of his arrival?” she asks, changing the subject.

I let out a weary sigh, rubbing my temples. “She’s part of a different team,” I explain, my voice tinged with reluctance. “Do I really have to?”

Dark Star’s eyes narrow, and I can feel the weight of her disapproval even through her mask. “Dr. Eliza,” she says, her voice low and dangerous, “you know the rules. All interdimensional arrivals must be reported to their nearest living relative in this universe. No exceptions.”

I nod, feeling properly chastised. “Of course, you’re right. I’ll send the notification right away.”

I mutter under my breath, “I just really hate those LA Heroes.”