[Luke’s POV]

The conference room in Star Tower is a wonder of modern engineering and advanced technology. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking panoramic view of Boston’s skyline, the city sprawling out beneath us like a glittering tapestry. The sleek, oval table at the center of the room seems to hover in mid-air, its surface a glossy black that reflects the city lights like a mirror. Holographic displays flicker around the edges of the room, scrolling through data and news feeds at a dizzying pace.

Dark Star stands at the head of the table, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose just above her mask. The gesture is so human, so at odds with her imposing costume, that it catches me off guard. For a moment, I can almost see the woman beneath the hero, weary and exasperated.

“That was quite the stunt you pulled, Super Star,” Dark Star says, her voice a mixture of frustration and resignation. The words seem to hang in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

Skye, standing beside me with her arms crossed, merely shrugs. The movement causes her cape to ripple, the fabric catching the light in a way that makes it seem alive. “What stunt?” she retorts, her tone nonchalant but with an undercurrent of defiance. “We really are in love.”

As she speaks, Skye uncrosses her arms and wraps one around my waist, pulling me closer. The heat of her body against mine is intoxicating, a constant reminder of her presence and power. I lean into her touch, drawing strength from her closeness.

“It’s true,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “This is what I really want.”

Dark Star’s gaze shifts to me, her blue eyes visible even through the mask. There’s a weight to her stare as if she’s trying to see into my very soul. For a moment, I feel exposed, vulnerable under her scrutiny.

“Are you sure about this, Luke?” she asks, her voice softer now, tinged with concern. “You’ve only been in this world for a short time. There’s so much you don’t know, so much you haven’t experienced here.”

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of her words. She’s right, of course. This world is still largely a mystery to me, filled with wonders and dangers I can scarcely comprehend. But as I look up at Skye, seeing the path to everything I lost, I know my answer.

“I’m sure,” I say firmly. “I know it fast, and maybe it is. But Skye... she’s not just someone I met here. She’s the other half of my soul. I loved her in my world, and I love her in this one.”

As the words leave my mouth, I feel Skye’s arm tighten around me. Her body seems to melt against mine, the hard lines of her superhero costume softening as she presses closer. Yet even as she leans into me, I can sense the iron control she maintains. Her emerald eyes remain fixed on Dark Star, her jaw set in a determined line.

Dark Star’s shoulders slump slightly, a barely perceptible shift in her imposing silhouette. When she speaks, her voice is tinged with a mixture of resignation and concern. “I understand your feelings, Luke, but we need to think about the long term here. You’re not just a visitor. You’re a resident of our world now. We need to consider practical matters. A job, a place to live, your integration into society.”

Before I can respond, Skye’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and decisive. “He’s going to live with me, of course.” Her tone brooks no argument, as if the matter is already settled beyond any shadow of doubt. “And as for employment, I’ll hire him myself.”

I feel a rush of warmth at Skye’s words, at the casual way she includes me in her life as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. But then I see her brow furrow slightly, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her expression.

“You can be my...” Skye trails off, her usual confidence faltering for a moment. She turns to me, her emerald eyes searching my face. “What did you use to do, sweetheart?”

The term of endearment sends a shiver down my spine, even as I struggle to find the right words to explain my former life. “I, uh, I worked for a company that sold generic brand medicines,” I say, the mundane nature of my previous job feeling strangely out of place in this high-tech, superhero-filled world.

“Generic medicines?” she repeats, her head tilting slightly as she considers this. “That’s... well, that’s something.”

Dark Star leans forward, her interest clearly piqued. “What exactly did you do in this role, Luke?” she asks, her tone shifting from concerned to curious.

I take a deep breath, feeling a bit self-conscious about explaining my mundane job in this world of superheroes and advanced technology. “Well,” I begin, my voice hesitant, “I worked in market analysis. My role was to identify drugs that were approaching patent expiration and evaluate their potential for generic manufacturing.”

As I speak, I can see Dark Star’s interest growing, her posture straightening as she leans in slightly. Encouraged, I continue, my words coming more easily now.

“The goal was to determine if we could replicate them efficiently and cost-effectively. I had to consider market factors too, demand, competition, pricing strategies.”

I find myself warming to the topic, memories of late nights poring over data, and market reports flooding back. “One of the most challenging aspects was forecasting how the market would react to a new generic option. We had to balance the potential savings for consumers against our production costs and profit margins. It was like a complex puzzle, trying to find the sweet spot where we could offer affordable alternatives while still maintaining a viable business model.”

As I finish speaking, I notice the room has gone quiet. Dark Star is nodding thoughtfully, her expression unreadable behind her mask. But when I turn to Skye, I see a different reaction altogether.

Skye’s emerald eyes have glazed over slightly, her brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and boredom. She blinks rapidly as if trying to process the information I’ve just shared. After a moment, she lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

“That’s... interesting, darling,” she says, her tone betraying her lack of enthusiasm. She waves her hand dismissively, her cape rippling with the movement. “But I think we can find something more suitable for you here. How about helping my assistant? It would be much simpler, and you’d get to work closely with me.”

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I feel a twinge of disappointment at her dismissal of my former career, but I can’t really blame her. In a world of cosmic threats and superhuman abilities, analyzing pharmaceutical markets must seem incredibly mundane. Still, a part of me can’t help but feel a bit defensive of the work I used to do.

I hesitate, feeling a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. “Are you sure?” I ask, my voice tinged with doubt. “I might not be very helpful doing that kind of work. It’s quite different from what I’m used to.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see a change come over Skye. Her emerald eyes darken, the playful spark in them extinguished in an instant.

“Would your ex-wife let you work in an office with other women?” Skye asks, her voice low and dangerous. There’s an edge to her words, sharp as a razor and just as likely to draw blood.

I feel a smile tugging at my lips, a reflex born from years of trying to diffuse tense situations. But as I process her words, I find myself stuck on one particular part. Ex-wife. The term echoes in my mind, bringing with it a fresh wave of grief and confusion.

“No,” I admit softly. “That’s true. I only got that job after she passed.”

The words hang in the air between us, heavy with unspoken emotion. I see Skye’s expression shift, the darkness in her eyes giving way to something else. Jealousy flashes across her face, quick as lightning but unmistakable.

“Well then,” she says, her voice softening slightly but still carrying an undercurrent of possessiveness, “I suppose you should expect to see a lot of your strong fiancée then.”

As she speaks, Skye pulls me even closer, her arm tightening around my waist. The heat of her body against mine is a stark contrast to the chill that had permeated the room moments before. I find myself leaning into her touch, drawn to her warmth like a moth to a flame.

Dark Star nods slowly. “If that’s what you want, Super Star,” she says, her voice tinged with a weariness that seems to go beyond mere physical exhaustion. She speaks as if she has no real choice in the matter, as if Skye’s word is law.

“However,” Dark Star continues, her voice gaining a hint of steel, “Luke needs to have a continual education if you want him to ever be able to acclimate to our world. There’s so much he needs to learn.”

Skye sighs dramatically, the sound echoing off the polished surfaces of the conference room. Her emerald eyes roll skyward as if seeking patience from some higher power. “Fine,” she says, her tone dripping with lazy indifference. “I’ll task my assistant with that. Happy now?”

The casual dismissal of what seems like a monumental task makes my head spin. I wonder briefly about this unseen assistant, tasked with the responsibility of essentially rebuilding my entire worldview. Will they be up to the challenge? Do they even have a choice in the matter?

Dark Star’s posture relaxes slightly, though there’s still a tension in her shoulders that speaks of unresolved concerns. “Okay,” she says with a sigh that seems to carry the weight of a thousand compromises.

Then, as if eager to escape the stifling atmosphere of the room, Dark Star straightens up. “With that done,” she announces, her voice regaining some of its authoritative tone, “I’m going to go back to Detroit.”

I can’t help but laugh at her words. The idea of Dark Star, this imposing figure of strength and authority, rushing off to Detroit of all places strikes me as absurdly funny.

“Is Detroit really in dire need of a superhero as strong as you?” I ask, my voice tinged with amusement.

Dark Star turns to face me, her posture stiffening. Even with her mask obscuring most of her face, I can feel the intensity of her gaze. The laughter dies in my throat as I realize I may have crossed a line.

“Detroit is a bastion for crime,” she says, her voice low and serious. The words hang in the air, heavy with implications I can’t fully grasp.

I swallow hard, trying to lighten the mood. “Is it your Gotham?” I ask, attempting a smile.

Dark Star stares at me, her head tilting slightly to one side. The confusion in her voice is palpable as she asks, “What’s Gotham?”

I sigh, feeling the weight of the cultural divide between us. “Never mind,” I mutter.

Dark Star just shakes her head, a gesture that seems to encompass both confusion and resignation. Without another word, she turns and strides out of the room, her cape billowing behind her like a shadow-given form.

As the door slides shut behind her, I’m left with a strange mixture of emotions. The humor of the moment has evaporated, replaced by a keen sense of displacement. It’s a stark reminder of how much I still have to learn about this world, how many assumptions I can’t take for granted.

I turn to Skye, seeking comfort in her familiar presence. Her emerald eyes meet mine, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. She pulls me closer, her warmth enveloping me like a protective cocoon.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” she murmurs, her breath tickling my ear. “You’ll learn everything you need to know soon enough.”

*****

[Jackie Jones’ POV]

I stand silently in the corner of Lady Ruin’s cavernous throne room, ever-present and ever-watchful. The vaulted ceilings stretch impossibly high overhead, adorned with intricate murals depicting Lady Ruin’s many triumphs. Soft green light filters through stained glass windows, casting an otherworldly glow across the polished obsidian floors.

Lady Ruin sits regally upon her throne of twisted metal and glowing crystals. Her green hooded cape drapes around her, pooling on the steps below. The silver helmet that obscures her features gleams in the ethereal light as she surveys the flickering holograms before her.

Over a hundred translucent screens hover in the air, each displaying a different news feed from across the globe. The cacophony of voices blends into a low murmur as Lady Ruin absorbs the day’s events with practiced efficiency. Her head turns slightly as she scans from screen to screen, processing the information at superhuman speed.

Suddenly, she stiffens, her attention caught by one particular broadcast. I follow her gaze to see footage of Super Star at a press conference, her arm wrapped possessively around a young man with tousled brown hair.

Lady Ruin points to the screen showing Super Star, her gloved hand trembling slightly as she gestures. The hologram expands instantly, filling the air before us while the other screens flicker and fade away like dying stars. The sudden silence is deafening, broken only by the crisp audio from the press conference.

I watch, transfixed, as Super Star’s voice fills the cavernous chamber. “This man isn’t just some random fling. He’s the love of my life, my soulmate across universes, and as of today...” She pauses, lifting the man’s left hand to reveal a gleaming gold ring. “My fiancé.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and portentous. I feel the weight of them pressing down on me, stealing the breath from my lungs. But it’s not the announcement itself that shakes me to my core. It’s what happens next.

A single tear, luminous and impossibly fragile, falls from beneath Lady Ruin’s mask. It catches the green light as it falls, transformed for an instant into a perfect emerald droplet before shattering against the obsidian floor. The sight is so unexpected, so utterly at odds with everything I know about my mistress that I feel the world tilt beneath my feet.

Before I can process this unprecedented display of emotion, Lady Ruin moves. Her movements are a blur, faster than my eyes can track. One moment she’s seated on her throne, the next she’s standing before it, her chest heaving with ragged breaths.

A scream tears from her throat, raw and primal. It echoes off the vaulted ceilings, reverberating through the chamber with such force that I feel it in my bones. The sound is filled with rage, yes, but also with something deeper, more visceral. Pain. Loss. A grief so profound it defies description.

With a sweep of her arm, Lady Ruin obliterates her throne. The twisted metal and glowing crystals explode outward, reduced to glittering dust in an instant. The force of the blow sends shockwaves through the room, and I stumble backward, barely keeping my footing.

As the dust settles, I see Lady Ruin standing amidst the wreckage, her cape billowing around her like storm clouds. Her hands are clenched into fists at her sides, trembling with barely contained fury. The air crackles with energy, and I can taste ozone on my tongue.

“Jackie,” she says, her voice devoid of any emotion. “Look into Luke. Super Star’s new fiancé, I want to know everything about him as soon as possible.

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “Yes, my lady. Right away.”