Chapter 22: Whispers in the Wind
The impossible fog had left the D.E.O. in a state of scientific crisis. Alex was, predictably, diving headfirst into data, trying to find a logical framework for a phenomenon that defied all logic. I could feel her intellectual frustration, a constant buzz through the periphery of my Cosmic Empathy. But the more important resonance was Kara's. Her unease from the premonition, her quiet satisfaction at having acted on her intuition, and a new, almost tangible, thread of curiosity. She was searching. Not for me, explicitly, but for answers about the inexplicable force that seemed to be subtly guiding her.
"She's looking. Good," I thought, watching her through my surveillance feeds. She was at CatCo, but her attention kept drifting, her eyes scanning the internet with a distracted intensity. "It's time for another clue, my little anchor. A personal one. Something that speaks to her, and only her." My amusement was tinged with a delicate vulnerability. Each subtle reveal, each personal touch, was a piece of myself, risked for her.
The challenge was to craft a clue that was undeniably "the Glitch," but completely deniable as direct communication. It had to be intimate, a whisper only she would truly hear.
I decided on a combination of visual and olfactory cues, tied to a specific memory of hers that I'd gleaned through the burgeoning Cosmic Empathy. A memory of her early days on Earth, of finding solace in a specific park, under a specific tree, during a particularly difficult moment of homesickness. It was a small, personal sanctuary she rarely spoke about.
[SKILL: SENSORY ILLUSION (LVL 3). APPLICATION: VISUAL AND OLFACTORY. FOCUS: PERSONALIZED CLUE.]
I waited for her to leave CatCo. She often took a circuitous route home, seeking quiet moments of reflection. Today, she unconsciously drifted towards that park. As she walked under the designated tree, I acted.
First, the scent. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of freshly bloomed jasmine, mixed with the crisp, clean scent of rain on dry earth. It was a specific, comforting aroma I'd felt through her memories.
Then, the visual. A shimmering, iridescent butterfly. Not a real one. A perfect, crystalline construct of light and color, formed from pure illusion, appearing briefly, dancing around her head for a second, then dissolving into shimmering dust. It wasn't a butterfly from Earth. It was a vague, abstract representation of a native Kryptonian insect, something from her subconscious memory. Only she would find it familiar.
Kara stopped, her eyes wide. She inhaled deeply, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Her gaze followed the shimmering butterfly as it spun, a look of profound wonder and confusion on her face. Then, as it dissolved, her hand instinctively reached out, as if to grasp the fleeting beauty. Her emotional state through the empathy was a tumultuous mix of awe, wonder, and a powerful surge of feeling seen.
"You're welcome," I thought, a quiet satisfaction spreading through me, mirroring her own feeling of connection. "I know you. More than you know, I know you." The risk was worth it.
Back at CatCo, Cat Grant, ever the astute observer of the superficial, caught a glimpse of Kara's distracted state earlier in the day. "Kiera," Cat snapped, her voice cutting through the newsroom like a freshly sharpened razor. "Are you quite alright? You seem to be perpetually daydreaming these days. Are you perhaps experiencing an excess of existential angst? Or is it simply the allure of lukewarm coffee? Whatever it is, kindly contain your internal reveries. They're bad for productivity, and even worse for my quarterly reports."
Kara, who had just returned, simply offered a small, knowing smile, the subtle joy of her encounter with the illusory butterfly still lingering in her eyes. "Just… processing, Cat. Just processing." She made no attempt to explain, her secret her own.
Cat scoffed, turning back to her computer. "Well, process faster, Kiera. The world doesn't wait for your internal epiphanies."
"Oh, Cat," I chuckled silently, a wave of affectionate exasperation washing over me through the empathic link from Kara. "You have no idea how right you are. The world doesn't wait. But some of us are working very hard to make sure it's a world worth processing." The personal clue had landed. Kara was now not just curious, but felt a true, nascent bond with her unseen helper. The threads of connection were growing stronger, weaving a complex tapestry of reliance and understanding. And that, more than any power display, solidified my purpose.
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