Home: The adventures home

The following day, I sent a schematic and report to my father and uncle detailing how we could use my **artificial medium-sized stellar nucleosynthesis reactor**—long name, I know, but it makes me sound sophisticated and smart—to power our ships. Of course, I had to increase the size of the reactors since ships are significantly larger than armor, but everything worked perfectly in the simulation. It was their responsibility to manufacture and install the new power source and engine. I made sure to include all the necessary information and emphasized the importance of precision. We couldn't afford things blowing up in our faces. Well, technically, being Kryptonian, a meltdown—or, unlikely, an explosion—would only give us a caffeine rush on steroids, but the property damage would be another story.

After sending the communication, I took a deep breath to center my mind and focus on my body, my senses, and my emotions. When you have an advanced mind capable of multitasking and processing at abnormal speeds, it's easy to lose yourself in the sea of thoughts and data. It's like when you're making a meal or driving a car and suddenly realize, *"Woah, I've been driving for ten minutes—how did I not kill someone?"* or *"How did I not cut myself while chopping onions?"* In my case, I'm aware of what I'm doing, but it feels like being in multiple places at once. Centering myself and feeling my body helps ground me. It makes me feel human—I mean, Kryptonian. Old habits die hard.

Once I finished my breathing exercises, I hopped into the bathroom to clean myself. Kryptonian showers are the best. I donned new clothes, similar to what I wore yesterday but with a better cut and finish. This would help me blend in with the workers' district while also maintaining some honesty with my new friends. Sneaking out was unnecessary—my parents weren't home, busy with their respective jobs—but I did it anyway, the same way I had yesterday.

Stepping outside, I was met with the view of the red sun hanging low in the sky, casting a dark horizon. I missed the yellow sun and blue skies of Earth, and the moon—you can't forget the moon, one of Earth's most redeeming qualities. The sun was setting over Kandor, its light stretching long shadows across the crystalline spires of the city. From the balcony of the House of El, I could see the glowing veins of energy pulsing through the streets below, a testament to Krypton's technological mastery. The air was crisp, tinged with the faint hum of the city's energy grid, and I could already hear the distant laughter of children playing in the workers' district. Looking down, I saw the vendors still at it, which brought a smile to my face.

I adjusted my jacket, corrected my posture, and slightly altered my walk. I walked like I *wanted* to belong, like one of those people who try a little too hard to fit into a friend group. It was all by design. People trust you more when they sense you want something from them. For me, it was adventure and an escape from the dull life of a noble.

As I walked, I took in my city. The streets of the great houses' district were wide and immaculate, paved with smooth, iridescent stone that seemed to glow from within. Towering spires of glass and metal rose around me, their surfaces etched with intricate patterns that told the stories of our ancestors. Each house had its own unique design—geometric shapes for the House of Zod, flowing organic lines for the House of Vex—but all were connected by the same underlying principles: symmetry, harmony, and the seamless integration of technology. Energy conduits ran along the edges of the buildings, feeding power to the city's vast network of hovercraft and automated systems. It was beautiful, but it was also... rigid. Controlled.

As I made my way toward the workers' district, the streets began to change. The wide avenues narrowed into winding pathways, and the towering spires gave way to smaller, more functional buildings. Here, the architecture was less about grandeur and more about utility. The buildings were made of sturdy, heat-resistant materials, their surfaces duller but no less impressive. Instead of the flowing lines of the great houses, the workers' district was a patchwork of colors and textures, with murals and mosaics adorning the walls. Each one told a story—of labor, of struggle, of triumph. This was a place where individuality thrived, even in the shadow of Krypton's rigid social structure.

The people here dressed differently, too. While the great houses favored flowing robes and intricate jewelry, the workers wore practical clothing made from durable fabrics. Tunics, trousers, and boots were common, often adorned with patches, embroidery, or small trinkets that reflected their personal tastes. Some wore bands of colored cloth around their arms or necks, a subtle way of expressing allegiance to a particular guild or family. Others had tattoos or piercings, their bodies becoming canvases for self-expression. It was a stark contrast to the uniformity of the great houses, and I admired it. If only the old geezers could adopt such fashion sense, my work would be done, and I could go home to rest at the right hand of my father in heaven. I grinned at my own joke, almost giggling.

"What are you smiling at, girl? You look deranged." I looked up to see my banana supplier from yesterday, her face scrunched into a scowl. "Don't act like we're friends. I don't know you."

"C'mon now, that hurt my feelings," I said, feigning offense. "Anyway, I'll have the same as yesterday."

She surprised me by handing me two "bananas" and two packs of raisins without me asking for the second packet. She *did* remember. She studied me now, noticing my spotless clothes and professionally styled hair. *If you can build an android, build one to be your stylist. You will NOT regret it.*

"Who are you, miss? I don't want any trouble."

"I'm not bringing any trouble," I said sincerely. "I just want some friends."

She relaxed slightly but still eyed me warily. "That may be, but trouble'll come along if there's a clan child running unsupervised in our streets." It was a genuine concern. I was too important and young to be anywhere but the streets of the great houses and guilds.

"I promise, no one will come looking for me here. And if they do, they won't find me."

She scrutinized me again before finally saying, "Be careful, girl."

I smiled. "Old girl, you and I are going to be the best of friends."

I continued my walk to where I had met Elona the day before. The game was over, and the kids were sitting on the sidewalk, engaged in a heated debate about whether General Dru-Zod could defeat General Astra In-Ze.

Elona was waiting for me at the corner, her dark hair tied back in a loose braid. She wore a sleeveless tunic and leggings, both patched in places but clean and well-maintained. Around her neck was a pendant shaped like a tiny gear, a gift from her father, who worked in the city's energy core. She grinned when she saw me, her eyes lighting up with mischief.

"Took you long enough," she said, punching me lightly on the arm. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten all about your new friend."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "You know it's not like that. My parents just... worry."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, looping her arm through mine. "Come on, let's go. I found a new spot near the old reactor. You're going to love it. And you're going to tell me where you got those fancy clothes. Because, from what I see, I just became friends with a lady. And as Zal says, 'When life gives you sweet jaru fruit, you've got to make the best drink on Krypton.'"

As we walked, I couldn't help but notice how the workers' district pulsed with life. Children darted through the streets, their laughter echoing off the walls. Hovercraft zipped overhead, smaller and more utilitarian here, designed for transporting goods rather than people. The air smelled of spices and molten metal, a strange but comforting combination. I was seeing life—just life, just people trying to survive. My uncle and mother were working on a plan to recruit people for space exploration, planetary colonization, and Kryptoforming.

The old reactor loomed on the edge of the district, a relic from an earlier era of Kryptonian technology. Its massive structure was covered in vines and moss, a testament to its age. Elona led me to a hidden alcove where the ground was soft and the air was cool. We sat down and talked—about everything and nothing. She told me about Zal, her older cousin, who was teaching her how to fight and imparting the rules and guidelines of life. And I told her I was from House El, which she took well. She agreed to continue our friendship on the condition that I bring snacks whenever I visited her.

As I looked out over the city, I felt a sense of awe. Krypton was a world of contrasts—light and shadow, tradition and innovation, unity and individuality. And in that moment, I realized how much I loved it all: the gleaming spires of the great houses, the vibrant streets of the workers' district, the hum of technology that connected us all. It was home. And I didn't want us to leave this place. Sure, she was a fixer-upper, but I already had solutions to most of her problems. What remained was the politics, which I despised in this life and the last. But as I gazed at our red sun, I couldn't help but wonder... *What if I could...?*

"I promise you brother, the sun will shine on us again," I muttered.

Elona looked at me. "What?"

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "Just thinking out loud."

As I ran the calculations in my mind, a part of me hoped someone would stop me before it was too late.