The vast emptiness of space stretched like a black ocean, silent and endless, dotted only by the faint glow of distant stars. A lone Kryptonian spacecraft drifted through this abyss, its sleek form cutting a quiet path toward a blue planet—Earth.
Inside, a protective pod hummed softly, cradling an infant named Kal-El. His tiny body was wrapped in shimmering alien fabric, the House of El's sigil glowing faintly on his chest. He slept peacefully, unaware of the weight of his destiny. At just a few months old, he was Krypton's last hope, the final spark of a lost world.
Beside the pod sat Kara Zor-El, only ten years old but carrying a burden heavier than most adults could bear. Her blonde hair was tied back, her blue eyes fixed on her cousin. She wore a simple Kryptonian tunic, its edges frayed from the chaos of their escape. Her small hands rested on the pod, as if guarding Kal-El from the universe itself.
Krypton was gone. Their parents, their home, their entire world—reduced to dust. But Kal-El was alive, and that was enough. Kara's heart ached, but she pushed the pain down. She had one job: protect her cousin, no matter what.
"I'll keep you safe, little one," she whispered, her voice soft but fierce. "I swear it, on the House of El."
For a moment, the ship was calm, its hum a steady lullaby. Then, everything shattered.
A violent tremor rocked the spacecraft, shaking Kara to her core. Alarms screamed, their shrill wails piercing the silence. Red emergency lights flashed like wildfire, bathing the cabin in a frantic glow.
Kara's breath caught in her throat. She lunged for the control panel, her small fingers gripping the edges. "What's happening?!" she shouted, her voice trembling but sharp.
The ship's AI responded, its synthetic tone eerily calm despite the chaos. "Warning: Unidentified space-time anomaly detected. Systems unstable."
Kara's eyes darted to the viewport. Ahead, the black expanse of space twisted, like a cloth being wrung out. A gaping rift tore open, its edges crackling with golden lightning that danced like colors gone wild. The anomaly pulsed, a swirling vortex of cosmic energy that seemed to mock the laws of reality.
It was unlike anything Kara had studied in Krypton's star charts. Black holes were predictable, wormholes manageable. This was… wrong. It shouldn't exist.
Her heart pounded, a drumbeat of fear and duty. She slammed her hands on the controls, trying to steer the ship away. "Come on, move!" she begged, her voice cracking. The ship groaned, its engines straining against an invisible force.
The AI's voice cut through again, colder now. "Gravitational pull increasing. Collision imminent."
Kara's stomach dropped. The vortex was growing, its pull like a giant hand dragging them in. The ship lurched, spiraling toward the rift. Panels sparked, and the pod's hum faltered, making Kara's blood run cold.
She threw herself over Kal-El's pod, shielding it with her body. "Hold on, cousin!" she screamed, though he couldn't hear her. The ship spun faster, swallowed by the vortex's chaotic embrace.
Inside the pod, something stirred—a presence that didn't belong.
Kal-El's tiny form lay still, but within him, a second soul ignited. It was Clark, the man once called Shiv, now fused with the infant Kryptonian. His consciousness flickered, like a candle in a storm, then roared to life.
Memories flooded in—his old life, his death, the void between universes. He remembered the old man, the golden field, the ring now bound to his soul. He'd chosen this: the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Superman's body, three gifts to conquer the multiverse. But something else surged alongside his thoughts.
A will, not his own. Krypton's will.
It wasn't a voice or a mind, but a deep, unshakable instinct, woven into Kal-El's very cells. It whispered of restoration, of rebuilding a lost world, of carrying Krypton's legacy across the stars. It latched onto Clark's soul, merging with his ambitions, reshaping his core.
Clark's mind reeled. He was still himself—his dreams, his selfishness, his hunger for a life worth living. But Krypton's call was there, a quiet drumbeat he couldn't ignore. He didn't just want power and love anymore. He wanted to build something eternal, a new Krypton, with a family to call his own.
His infant body twitched, a faint glow pulsing from the ring's essence within him. Even as the ship spun through chaos, Clark's soul settled, ready for what came next.
The spacecraft tumbled through the rift, caught in waves of unstable energy. Sparks flew, and the shields flickered, barely holding against the cosmic storm. Kara clung to the pod, her teeth gritted, her small body trembling but unyielding.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the chaos stopped.
The ship was spat out, flung into the quiet abyss of a new universe. The alarms fell silent, replaced by the soft ping of the navigation system struggling to recalibrate. It scanned for familiar stars, for Krypton's coordinates.
It found nothing.
"Recalibration complete," the AI said. "Nearest habitable planet: Earth. Coordinates unknown. Universe designation… uncharted."
Kara's breath hitched. This wasn't their Earth, the one her father had programmed into the ship. This was somewhere else—a universe where the rules were different, where dangers lurked in ways she couldn't yet fathom.
The ship's engines hummed weakly, locking onto the blue planet ahead. Kara looked at Kal-El, still asleep, and whispered, "We'll make it, cousin. Wherever we are."
Gravity seized the ship, pulling it toward Earth like a stone. The hull glowed red, flames licking its surface as it tore through the atmosphere. From below, it looked like a comet, a fiery streak slashing across the night sky.
On Earth, eyes turned upward. Farmers in Kansas paused, shielding their eyes against the glare. Scientists in hidden labs noted an energy spike, their screens flashing with data. Somewhere, a SHIELD analyst frowned, jotting down "anomaly" in a classified file. The world didn't know it yet, but something extraordinary was coming.
The ship hit the ground with a thunderous crash, carving a deep crater into a Kansas field. Dust and smoke billowed, scorching the earth. For a long moment, silence reigned, broken only by the hiss of cooling metal.
Then, the hatch opened with a slow groan.
Inside, two Kryptonians lay still. Kal-El, the infant, breathed softly, untouched by the crash. Kara, unconscious but alive, slumped beside his pod, her small hand still resting on its edge.
They had escaped Krypton's doom. They had survived the rift. But their story was no longer the one their parents had written.
Clark, the soul within Kal-El, was here—in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. A new legend was born, one that would ripple through this world and beyond.