Hail to the king!

It was the dead of night in Gotham City; the only lights came from the city streets and skyscrapers reaching for the sky, where clouds obscured the moon. Heavy rain poured down, flooding the streets and alleys, as thousands out late tried to find cover to stay dry. Occasionally, lightning struck, briefly illuminating the entire city. A thunderclap followed seconds later. No one saw the green flash overhead… and no thunder followed afterward.

The Green Lantern had flown everyone who survived the attack at the Fortress of Solitude in the Arctic back to the Batcave. A chain of forcefield bubbles floated through the waterfall, each filled with passengers who landed carefully on any available surface and peeled away the energy fields so their friends could exit. He kept nearby, floating overhead, watching his passengers with his ring and the phantom projector in his free hand.

“By Neptune’s beard!” gasped Arthur, as he and Mera quickly raced toward their prone friend, who was being tended to by Wonder Woman and his cousins. “What has happened to you?”

Superman didn’t say a word as he got to his feet with the help of his friends. Everyone else took a step back in awe, as he stood more than a foot taller than everyone present. His skin was almost charcoal black, covered in smooth reptilian scales, and his hands and feet were clawed as he took a wary step forward. Black fur formed thick ridges down his spine and across his broad shoulders like a mane, and two short, curved horns jutted from his brow. His tail, short and nearly vestigial, swished once behind him.

“I’m… Recovering…”

“Faora has a pack of Kryptodrakes under her thumb,” the Flash explained as he helped Clark get to a seat while his progeny circled him like wolves, small, clawed hands reaching up to touch their father’s scaled forelimbs. “She used them to attack the Fortress of Solitude.”

“They weren’t exactly talkative either,” Hal said dryly, keeping an eye on the curious kryptodrake children who looked around. The pack of children spotted Alfred, and the man took a step back, silver plate in hand, guarding himself like a shield until Batman moved between the children and his butler. Batman’s voice cut through the stunned silence, calm and precise despite the exhaustion etched into every line of his face.

“Because this is the first change for those Faora has bitten, her victims are still raw and overwhelmed. They are essentially animals and follow her as their de facto alpha.” He gestured toward the device clutched in Hal’s other hand—the Phantom Zone projector. “If we all remain in the Batcave, where she cannot find us and where no sunlight can reach, we can detox and be cured. The phantom energies will decay in the dark. But that means letting Faora-Ui continue her reign of terror and add more to her flight of Kryptodrakes.”

Clark’s red eyes drifted across the faces around him. Kara and Karen, clutching their rapidly growing children; Diana standing rigid, a caring hand on his shoulder; Arthur and Mera holding each other tightly. On the computer screen, Clark could see Lois Lane covering Faora and her kryptodrakes as they attacked the nation further west, speaking into her. Then he looked down at his own clawed hands, flexing them once. The scales caught the faint emergency lighting and reflected it in glossy black.

“I’m going after her,” he said quietly. The words landed like stones in still water. Diana stepped back first, concern evident on her face.

“Clark.”

“I’m the worst off,” he continued before she could argue. “Look at me. The scales aren’t receding anymore. Every time I change, I come back… less. If I wait for the cure, I may never be human again anyway. But if I go now, I can end this."

Bruce’s voice was flat, clinical. “You’re proposing a dominance challenge."

Clark nodded. “Faora’s flight is raw. primal. They’re running on instinct, not loyalty. If I challenge her right to lead—if I win—they’ll see me as alpha. I can order them back here. contain them. decontaminate them in the dark."

Kara’s voice cracked, small and raw. “And if you lose?"

Clark met her eyes—his own glowing faintly red in the gloom. “Then at least I’ll have tried. And you’ll still have time to hide the cubs. to finish detoxing.”

Silence lingered, tense and painful. Then Karen stepped forward, her golden scales faintly shimmering along her collarbones and forearms even in the cave’s darkness. “You’re not going alone.”

“I have to,” Clark replied. “If more of you change again, you risk a permanent transformation. I’m already halfway there. Let me use it.”

Diana placed a hand on his scaled arm once more. The stark contrast between her smooth skin and his rough black hide was undeniable. “You’re not expendable, Kal-El.”

“I know.” He covered her hand with his own—claws careful not to scratch. “That’s why I’m doing this.”

There was no more argument, only quiet acceptance and fear. Clark stepped toward the waterfall’s entrance. Rain hammered against the cliff outside. He paused briefly, looking back at his family—both human and hybrid—watching him with wide, shining eyes. Then he stepped into the storm.

In the darkness of the storm, he remained unchanged, flying out until he reached clear skies and broad daylight. The transformation was now instant. No pain. Just a surge of power, like plunging into an ocean of fire. Black fur burst across his chest and back; wings tore free with a leathery snap; horns coiled; tail lengthened and lashed. In seconds, he was thirty feet of midnight scales and midnight fur, with blazing red eyes. He launched upward with a thunderous flap of wings.

It was done; he was committed to this. All that remained now was to find Faora and, hopefully, stop her before she caused any more harm.

***

Finding Faora and her flock of dragons wasn’t hard… She was not in the mind to hide. Why would she? To her, she had already won. She had claimed the skies above Coast City, circling the heart of town up high like a vulture over carrion. Her flight did the same, trailing behind her in ragged formation: a dozen nightmare shapes, scales and fur in every colour of rage circling the city or occasionally diving down below to claim something to eat.

Volcano’s crimson form burned like a falling star as she dove down to snatch up a food truck, the driver fleeing his vehicle as her claws gripped the vehicle’s hull and hauled it up to the sky to bite into. Her fangs so hot they carved the steel hide like melted butter. Nearby, perched over the roof of a skyscraper, a ruddy furred kryptodrake gnawed on a hot dog cart. The former Captain Boomerang snapped his attention towards a dark-furred Bronze Tiger. The pair snarling and swiping at each other over the spoils of the cart when Killer Croc’s shadow flew over them, and they both darted in opposite directions out of fear.

Livewire hissed from her own roost across the city, watching the two practically scurry away from their alpha as she bit down on a power cable, feeding off the energy while static electricity crackled blue-white over her pale blue scales and white fur. Killer Frost swooped past her while being chased by King Shark, her turbulence causing snow to fall in the hot summer air.

Landing on the roof of the highest building in the city, Faora-Ui spread her wings and roared, the act causing the rest of her flight to do the same, answering her call. Looking at her flight with pride, the kryptodrake alpha grinned, flaring her nostrils at the sight. Roaring again, her flight repeated her call, making her laugh. But seconds later… She heard a roar in the distance. And not from her flight. Looking out over the horizon, her eyes narrowed, and her smile widened when she recognized the winged creature approaching the city.

Superman stopped just meters from her in the air, wings beating steadily to hold his massive frame aloft. His red eyes burned as he glared at the smug dragoness perched atop the tallest skyscraper in Coast City. Faora-Ui reared her horned head back, curling her long tail around herself like a queen on her throne, a fanged grin splitting her muzzle.

“Kal-El,” she purred, voice rich with dark amusement. “You came.”

“This ends, Faora,” Clark growled, the words rumbling deep in his draconic throat.

Faora laughed, a low, rolling sound that echoed across the rooftops. She raised one clawed talon to cover her snout in mock surprise as the rest of her flight landed heavily around her, wings folding, eyes glowing with feral hunger. They formed a loose circle on the rooftops and in the air, snarling and shifting restlessly.

“End?” Faora leaned her horned head back, puffing out her broad, furred chest. “I have only just begun to rebuild Krypton in my image. This is how our people should have thrived, Son of El!” She breathed in deeply, nostrils flaring as she savoured the scent of her pack. “In time, this world shall be mine. Through me, only the strongest will thrive. The rest shall cower under the shadow of my wings.”

“I won’t let you do this to another soul, Faora!”

Faora’s grin widened, sharp and cruel. “Then you are a little late for that, Son of El…”

She turned her gaze to her flight and gave a slow, deliberate nod toward the newer members. Superman’s blood ran cold as he finally recognized them.

There, perched on a water tower with golden-brown scales and a sharp beak instead of a fanged snout, was Hawkman, his feathered wings twitching with barely contained aggression. Beside him, Hawkgirl shifted on taloned feet, her feathers mixed with sleek scales, red eyes locked on Clark with predatory focus. Vixen prowled along the edge of a rooftop, her lithe form now covered in sleek black-and-orange striped fur and scales, tail lashing like a cat’s and sporting horns that looked more like antlers. Green Arrow and Black Canary stood together on an adjacent building—Oliver’s form bulkier and more draconic with dark blonde scales and a short beard of fur along his jaw, Dinah’s sleek black-and-gold hide rippling as she flexed her wings and let out a low, challenging growl.

And then Clark saw her.

Lois Lane.

His Lois.

She crouched on the roof of a nearby high-rise building, purple-tinged black scales shimmering along her flanks and shoulders, a mane of dark hair cascading down her long neck. Elegant horns curved back from her brow, and a powerful tail swayed behind her. Her eyes—still unmistakably Lois’s sharp, purple eyes—flicked toward him with a mix of feral hunger and territoriality. Faora noticed his reaction immediately and laughed louder, the sound dripping with venomous delight.

“Oh yes… I could smell your scent all over her when I found her, Kal-El. So strong. So recent.” The black dragoness licked her fangs slowly. “I thought it would be amusing to make a trophy of your little human pet. She fought hard… but in the end, she submitted beautifully. Just like the rest.”

Lois let out a low, rumbling growl, her wings half-unfurling as she shifted her weight. Superman knew that look all too well. Lois’s mind was absent, so overwhelmed by the change, she did not even recognize who he was or where she stood. Clark’s chest tightened with a surge of guilt and rage. His voice came out rough, pained, but resolute.

“Lois… My friends… I am so sorry.”

He lowered his horned head for a heartbeat, horns glinting in the sunlight. He thought Lois would have sought safety when Faora and her Kryptodrakes attacked. The pain in his chest, knowing she was now just another victim in all this, felt like a knife in his heart. Then, he lifted his head again with a steely, burning glare, and he fixed his ire on Faora-Ui.

“I am challenging you for leadership of the pack, Faora.”

Faora-Ui’s eyes narrowed with dark amusement as her flight began to close in, surrounding Superman. Many of them snarled and growled, red eyes glowing hot with instinctual aggression.

“You think you can challenge me? A rogue cannot challenge anything. You have no flight. No pack. Only mongrels and half-breeds hiding in the dark… And they’re not here. You are alone, son of El.”

Clark found himself very quickly being surrounded by the Kryptodrakes under Faora’s command. Many of them snarled and growled back at him with glowing red eyes.

Clark found himself very quickly encircled by the snarling Kryptodrakes. Heat rolled off their bodies. Claws scraped against rooftops and steel. Lois watched him from her perch, her expression flickering between confusion and predatory focus. Before any of them could strike, the sky filled with thunder.

From the same direction Superman had come, more shapes appeared. A pair of golden-furred drakes—Kara and Karen—banked sharply into view, their own cubs flying unsteadily on small wings beside them. Arthur and Mera followed close behind, green-gold and scarlet scales flashing. Diana soared above them all, black-furred and regal, her triplets circling her with eager little roars. The Flash crackled into sight as a red blur of scales and static, lightning flashing behind him. Batman glided in silently, jet-black and deadly, taking position directly behind his friend.

Green Lantern and Martian Manhunter arrived last—Hal enveloped in a massive emerald hard-light construct shaped like a draconic form. At the same time, J’onn had shifted into a long, serpentine draconic shape with six clawed limbs and three prehensile tails, coiling powerfully in the air.

“He’s not alone, Faora,” Batman growled, voice low and dangerous even through his draconic maw. Clark’s eyes swept over his friends—his family—now standing with him. Even the cubs, his own children, beat their small wings furiously overhead, adding their tiny defiant roars to the chorus. Faora’s grin faltered for the first time. Clark beat his wings once, moving forward so she could see him clearly.

“I’m not challenging you as a rogue,” he said, voice steady and deep. “I’m challenging you as the alpha of this flight. My flight.”

The pack hesitated. Instinct flickered in their eyes, recognition of blood, of strength, of the one who had sired many of them. Faora snarled. “You think THIS makes you a leader? Power makes you a leader.”

“Then let’s see who has more.”

She lunged. They met in the air. They caused storms. Clark was bigger, stronger, and more controlled. Faora was faster, crueller, and more experienced in Kryptonian combat. Heat vision slashed across his chest; he answered with freezing breath that froze her wing. Claws raked; tails whipped; wings battered. They tore through clouds, crashed through billboards, spiralled over the city in a cyclone of scales and fury. Below, Metropolis held its breath. The pack watched—silent, frozen—waiting for the outcome instinct demanded. Clark took a brutal hit to the ribs—felt something crack—but used the momentum to slam Faora downward. They crashed through a rooftop together, shattering glass and steel. He pinned her beneath him, claws at her throat, wings flared wide to block her flight.

“Yield,” he growled. Faora laughed—wet, ragged.

“You think this changes anything? Even if you kill me, the flight will scatter. They’ll bite. They’ll spread. You can’t contain a species.”

Clark’s eyes dimmed. “I’m not going to kill you.” He looked up at the circling pack. At Lois, still hovering overhead, eyes flickering between feral rage and something like recognition. “I’m going to bring them home.”

Faora sneered. “You’re weak.”

“No,” Clark said quietly. “I’m better.”

He released her throat and sank his fangs into her shoulder instead. Not to kill. But to dominate, to make a show of it so the flight could see. Faora roared in pain, then went limp beneath him, instincts overriding ego. The pack felt it instantly. The Kryptodrakes that had watched this entire time landed in a circle around the two. Growling and trading looks after landing to see the display. Wings folded. Growls became whines. One by one, they descended, landing around Clark in submissive postures. Lois landed last. She pressed her snout against his neck, nuzzling once, weakly, before stepping back to lower her head in subjugation.

***

The victorious heroes led Faora’s flight back to the Batcave in the midday sun.

Superman flew at the front of the ragged formation, his massive, black-furred frame cutting through the parting storm clouds like a living shadow. Behind him followed the rest of his pack—Kara and Karen with their nearly full-grown cubs, Diana flanked by her triplets, Arthur and Mera with their four hybrid children, and the other members of the Justice League who had answered the call. Bringing up the rear, surrounded and closely watched, was Faora-Ui’s flight: two dozen snarling, feral Kryptodrakes, all of whom were former Belle Reve inmates mixed with turned heroes and civilians, gliding unsteadily through the rain.

No one spoke much during the long flight north. The only sounds were the heavy beat of wings, the occasional low growl from one of the newer drakes, and the clearer skies now that the storms were fading.

As they approached the cliffs of Gotham, Clark angled downward, leading the entire group through the cascading waterfall that concealed the Batcave’s entrance. One by one, the massive creatures slipped inside, wings folded tight against their bodies. The moment they crossed into the pitch-black interior of the cave, the change began.

The first to falter were the newest members of the team. Livewire’s electric-blue form shuddered violently as she crashed onto the landing platform, scales retracting, wings melting back into her spine with wet cracks. Killer Frost dropped to all fours, frost melting off her body as white hair spilled across her shoulders once more. Captain Boomerang, King Shark, Deadshot, and the others followed—bodies shrinking quickly, fur and scales vanishing, leaving them naked, ****, and fully human again on the cold metal floor.

Hawkman and Hawkgirl collapsed together, their hawk-like features smoothing out as they reverted. Vixen, Green Arrow, and Black Canary all slumped into human form moments later, chests heaving with exhaustion.

Even Lois Lane. Still beautiful in her draconic shape with shimmering, purple-tinged scales, she shuddered as she landed. Her long neck shortened, horns receded, wings folded inward and disappeared. She dropped to her knees, gasping, before falling forward into Clark’s waiting outstretched talon. He gently lowered her to the floor, where she lay still, breathing deeply, human once more.

One by one, the flight shrank and changed back—until only six figures remained visibly draconic. Clark, Kara and Karen were now fully locked in — black and golden scales no longer receding even in total darkness. Diana, Arthur, and Mera, while still able to stand on two legs, had been significantly changed as well: scales, claws, and a heightened stature marked them as past the point of no return. Those recently exposed — Lois, the Belle Reve inmates, and most of the newly turned — shrank back to human form. The core group, however, had pushed far beyond that threshold.

Clark stood tall in the centre of the platform, black scales gleaming faintly in the emergency lighting, long, swooping horns catching what little light there was. His wings remained half-furled, powerful tail curled behind him. Beside him, Diana returned to her feet quickly, humanoid... but still changed. Her skin bore smooth black scales down her neck, shoulders, and thighs, and her fingers brandished sharp claws, her triplets now almost adult-sized, curling around her like loyal pets, their size comparable to draft horses as they nuzzled their mother. Arthur and Mera were no better when they got to their feet. Nearly 8 feet tall and covered in scales over their human forms. Aquaman stood nearly hunched while his queen helped him stand fully, their scales still wet from the rain, being surrounded by their quadruplets. Kara and Karen—golden-furred and powerfully built—stood protectively near their own cubs, who were now large enough to stand on their own but still pressed close to their mothers.

Batman, now human again and wrapped in a blanket Alfred had quickly provided, watched the scene with narrowed eyes. Faora’s flight were already being tended to by those still awake after the change, such as the Flash and Alfred himself, who moved with calm efficiency despite the surreal sight. Faora herself was bound in a bubble of green light created by the Green Lantern to keep her contained.

“So… it worked,” Clark rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly in his draconic throat. He looked down at his clawed hands, flexing them slowly. The black scales did not recede. “Most of them are back.”

“But not all of us,” Karen said quietly, glancing at her own golden-furred arms. “We pushed it too far.”

Diana stepped closer, pressing her hand gently against Clark’s shoulder in quiet solidarity. “We made our choice. We stood with you.”

Arthur exhaled a plume of warm breath, his scarlet scales shimmering. “And we will live with it.”

“Do you think this changes anything?” Faora-Ui hissed behind the green barrier. “Even if you managed to sway them to you, THIS is our future now. Even in my defeat, I remain…”

Her rant was cut short by Hal constricting the bubble tighter, leaving her with less room to be comfortable; the interior gave off a green glow, not unlike green kryptonite, that stopped her boasting then and there before the radiation receded.

“It would be in your best interest if you kindly shut your damned mouth.” Hal threatened, just as Faora passed out.

“…She’s right.” Sighed Clark, despairingly.

The three permanent Kryptodrakes stood together in the darkness of the Batcave. At the same time, the rest of their friends and former enemies lay **** around them, slowly returning to their human selves.

Faora-Ui’s reign was over.

But for Clark, Diana, Arthur, Mera, Kara, and Karen, the transformation had become their new reality.

***

Faora-Ui was gone, returned to the Phantom Zone via the Phantom Zone projector. Alfred Pennyworth had activated the device himself when the offending Kryptodrake was taken to the Batcave for judgment and eventual return. He was the only one physically capable of handling such delicate controls since everyone else was too large. She screamed all the way—not in fear, but in rage.

“YOU THINK THIS WILL IMPRISON ME?! YOU LET ME OUT BEFORE, YOU’LL DO SO AGAIN!

Continuing to curse and threaten her jailers as she was pulled into the portal, her roars went silent when it closed. Her flight was contained, and they were providing her with the best treatment her condition required.

Arkham Asylum was now dark, at least for the foreseeable future. Its new inmates—Volcano, Livewire, Killer Frost, and the rest of Faora’s flight—who lie sedated in darkened cells, where doctors monitor their condition and progress, detoxing their bodies from the phantom zone's energies so they can be relocated back to Belle Reve. Heavy shutters blocked out the sunlight, and the windows' glass was painted over to keep out the sun's rays. The process was slow and carefully observed, but signs of improvement were showing. The phantom energies were decaying. In days, or perhaps weeks, they would be human again. Or close enough.

The League, however, was not so fortunate. Multiple exposures had only worsened their conditions. Most of them now remain as Kryptodrakes—an effect of their sacrifice to stop Faora-Ui. Clark had never fully recovered, even in the near-total darkness of the Batcave.

It was there that a recovering Lois Lane found him curled up on one of the hangar platforms like a house cat when she climbed the steps to see him. Opening one of his eyes and lifting his horned head off the steel floor, Clark looked down at the woman as she stepped close, folding her arms in front of her.

“Hello, Smallville.”

Giving a smile back as best he could, Superman shifted to give the woman more room to stand over the crowded platform. “Hello, Lois. How are you? Are you having any trouble with the detox?”

Shrugging, Lois looked around the Batcave, or better yet, the dragon cave, considering who the occupants were. Diana slept nearby on a neighbouring platform with her children, her triplets almost full-grown and idly shoving each other to make room. She was now fully changed into a Kryptodrake. A choice she made willingly, considering the circumstances: Batman stooped over his computer, in human form but keeping a watchful eye over the rest of the younger kryptodrakes who either rough-housed or slept in their own nooks and crannies of the cave they claimed as their own.

“I’m… Doing well.” Lois said sheepishly. “Haven’t seen the sun in a few days, and it's making me stir crazy.”

“Bruce explained that, like the others, since you only had so much solar exposure, you’d likely return to normal in a week or so. After that, you can go back to chasing stories and giving Perry a hard time.”

“And what about you?”

Breathing in deeply and giving that question some thought, Clark got up to all fours, giving the woman a view of just how massive a Kryptodrake he was when he repositioned himself to sit and curl his tail around himself. His wings opened slightly to help counter his balance.

“Well… The robot staff back at the North Pole have been busy rebuilding the Fortress of Solitude. When that’s done and dealt with, I’ll be calling that home from here on then. Likely that’ll be the same with Karen and Kara, too.” Looking out to the waterfall exit of the cave, Clark shrugged his scaly shoulders, his wings ruffling. “Can’t exactly run a company or go to college when you’re a giant winged monster…”

Diana stirred on her platform, her wings rustling softly as she lifted her horned head. The dim emergency lights of the Batcave cast faint reflections across her black scales. Her triplets were already awake, quietly tussling in a nest of blankets and cushions; one daughter playfully nipped at another’s stubby tail while the third watched with solemn red eyes. Diana’s gaze drifted across the cave until it settled on Clark, who was speaking to Lois, and then she saw her walking away with her arms crossed. He sat alone near the hangar ledge, his massive form curled tightly, tail wrapped around his legs like a shield. His wings were half-furled, head lowered, staring at nothing. He looked… smaller somehow, despite being larger than ever.

She rose silently, padding across the stone floor on all fours. When she reached him, she pressed her snout gently against the side of his neck, a low rumble vibrating in her chest. Not quite a purr, not quite a growl. Comfort.

“You’re brooding again,” she said, voice soft but clear through the draconic register. Clark exhaled a long, slow plume of warm breath that fogged briefly in the cool air.

“I’m… thinking.”

“You’re grieving.” She nudged him again, firmer this time. “There is a difference.”

He didn’t answer right away. One clawed hand lifted, tracing the thickened ridge of scales along his forearm.

“Bruce told me that the League will give the Daily Planet a notification that Clark Kent went missing, they’ll cite that they’ll keep an eye out for him, but...” His voice cracked on the last word. “What it really means is my life is over now.”

Diana settled beside him, wing unfolding to drape lightly across his back. “You’re not the only one who made sacrifices, Clark. You are not alone in this.” Raising her own clawed hand to show her bracelets no longer present. “Your cousins have been helping me cope, and Mera’s sisterhood has been a warm comfort.”

“I’m happy for you, Diana,” he said quietly. “No one deserves to be alone.”

She was silent for a long moment. Then she rose, stretched her wings wide until the tips brushed the cavern ceiling, and looked toward the waterfall entrance.

“Come fly with me.”

Clark lifted his head. “Diana?”

“Just a short one. Out over the bay. I think we both deserve some fresh air.” She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “You need it. And I need to feel the wind under my wings with you.”

He hesitated. Looked back at the sleeping and playing children, at Kara and Karen dozing nearby with their own broods curled against them. Then he exhaled again, this time with something like surrender.

“Alright.”

They slipped out through the waterfall together, wings tucked tight until they cleared the cliff face. The moment open sky greeted them, they snapped their wings wide and climbed. Taking to the air, the city blurred into streaks of grey and white far below. They flew in loose formation, wingtips almost brushing. Diana banked gently, leading him south along the Gotham waterfront. Clark followed without question, the simple rhythm of flight loosening the knot in his chest. Then she tilted her head downward.

“Look.”

On a deserted stretch of beach just beyond the city limits, two familiar silhouettes moved in the sunlight. Arthur and Mera, both fully formed Kryptodrakes, were locked together in the shallows. Mera’s wings arched high, tail entwined with her mate’s, hips rolling in a slow, powerful rhythm. Arthur’s jaws were parted in a silent roar of pleasure, claws digging furrows in wet sand. They were not gentle; they were primal, claiming, celebrating. Clark let out a low, rumbling chuckle—the first real sound of amusement he’d made in days.

“Guess Mera got tired of waiting.” Diana’s eyes sparkled. “She always did have a healthy appetite.” She drifted closer until their wingbeats synced. “It’s not a bad idea, you know.”

Clark glanced at her sidelong. “What isn’t?”

“Intimacy.” Her voice dropped, comfortable. “After all, it's just us now...” She bumped his shoulder gently with hers. “We’ve already lost so much of what we were. Why not embrace what we’ve become?”

He didn’t answer immediately. They climbed higher, breaking through the last layer of clouds into clear, blue sky. The air was colder here, thinner, exhilarating. Below them, Gotham shrank to a glittering jewel boxed. Then the pair got a start when another black-scaled shape rose to meet them, silent, graceful, wings cutting clean arcs through the clouds. Lois Lane matched their altitude effortlessly, scales shimmering onyx with a purple tint. Dark hair streamed behind her like a banner. Her eyes, still recognizably hers, locked on Clark’s. No words. Just a soft, rumbling croon deep in her throat.

“Not… Alone.” The purple-eyed dragoness tried to speak as she levelled to join the pair. “Not let… Smallville… Fly off… Alone.”

Diana laughed softly, a sound like distant thunder.

“She made her choice, too.”

Lois moved closer, first brushing against Clark’s side, then Diana’s, her snout nudging along their scales, tail briefly curling around theirs in greeting. Acceptance. Desire. Belonging. Without another word, the three of them turned as one and soared higher, wings beating in perfect harmony. They spiralled upward together—Clark in the centre, Diana and Lois on either side—until the air grew so thin it shimmered with frost on their scales. Then, as one, they folded their wings and dove, rolling lazily through the night sky, tails entwined, jaws brushing in gentle, rumbling kisses. No words. Just touch—just flight. Just the three of them, united, claiming the sky that had once been their prison.

The end.