New citizen

Carol had friends in high places—S.H.I.E.L.D., the Avengers, even a few alien embassies—so Superman’s arrival didn’t trigger an immediate global panic. They gave him a provisional ID: **Clark Joseph Kent, Kryptonian Refugee, Class-Omega Asset**. Tony Stark tried to scan him with seventeen different devices; Clark politely let him, then crushed the eighteenth into a marble when Tony got too curious about the cape’s weave.

They put him up in Avengers Tower, 87th floor, a spare room with a reinforced bed and a window facing the Hudson. At night he floated an inch above the mattress, staring at a sky missing the familiar yellow sun of his old Sol. This one was the same color, but the light felt… thinner. Like drinking decaf after a lifetime of espresso.