The Watchtower had never been loud.
But tonight, it felt louder in its quiet.
Conversations stopped when Vita walked into a room. Eyes lingered a second too long. Words were chosen more carefully. The shift was subtle—but undeniable.
Rumors spread faster than any emergency alert.
"She took command without hesitation."
"Superman hesitated."
"She shut him down."
"She saved the city."
"She's changed."
The League didn't say it openly.
But everyone felt it.
Balance had shifted.
---
In the strategy chamber, only a few remained after the debrief.
Batman stood near the holographic table. Diana beside him. Hawkgirl leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Green Lantern hovered slightly above the floor, restless.
Clark was present.
Vita was not.
Batman activated the hologram replay of Coast City.
The moment Clark hesitated replayed in cold blue light.
Then Vita intercepting the blast.
Then her stabilizing pulse shutting the machine down.
Hawkgirl exhaled sharply. "She's stronger."
Clark didn't argue.
Diana's voice was calm. "She's evolved."
Hawkgirl's eyes flicked toward Clark. "Or maybe she had to."
The implication hung there.
Clark stepped forward. "If you have something to say, say it."
Hawkgirl didn't flinch. "Bringing her back changed the dynamic. The League needs stability. Not emotional fault lines."
"She's not the fault line," Diana replied firmly.
Green Lantern finally spoke. "But the public sees tension. Media's already speculating."
Batman's voice cut through clean and analytical. "Leadership is not threatened by strength. It is revealed by it."
Clark looked at the hologram again. His hesitation frozen in light.
"I won't let my distraction compromise the League," he said quietly.
Batman's eyes shifted. "Then resolve it."
Not advice.
Instruction.
---
Down the corridor, Vita walked alone.
The metallic floor reflected faint glimmers of gold from her wings. She could hear the whispers—even if no one spoke them directly. She wasn't naive.
Leadership shifts always caused tremors.
She stepped into the observation deck.
Earth rotated below, serene and untouched by League politics.
Her reflection shimmered faintly in the glass.
"You didn't come back for him," she murmured to herself.
"Then why does it still hurt?"
Footsteps approached.
She didn't turn.
Clark stopped a few feet behind her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The air between them wasn't explosive.
It was fragile.
"You were right," Clark said quietly.
She didn't respond.
"I hesitated."
"Yes."
No softness.
Just truth.
He stepped closer—but not too close.
"You think I don't see it?" he continued. "The shift. The way they look at you now."
She finally turned to face him.
"And how do they look at you?"
He exhaled.
"Like I'm no longer enough."
Something flickered in her expression.
"Clark," she said evenly, "this was never about replacing you."
"It feels like it."
There it was.
Raw.
Honest.
For the first time since she returned, emotion cracked through his composure.
She stepped closer now.
Not intimate.
Not distant.
Balanced.
"You're not unsteady because I'm here," she said quietly. "You're unsteady because you're afraid of losing control."
His jaw tightened.
"And you?" he asked. "Are you afraid?"
She didn't answer immediately.
"Yes," she admitted softly.
The confession shifted something in the air.
But before the moment could deepen—
The Watchtower lights flickered.
Just once.
Subtle.
Both of them looked up.
---
Deep within the Watchtower systems, a signal pulsed briefly.
Untraceable.
Encrypted.
Intentional.
On a monitor in the botanical research wing, a single green vine began to grow inside a sealed containment unit.
It wasn't there before.
Its petals unfurled slowly.
On one petal—
A symbol.
A pattern Vita would recognize anywhere.
Poison Ivy's.
---
Vita felt it before she saw it.
A subtle shift in environmental energy.
Organic.
Alive.
She moved instantly toward the botanical sector, Clark right behind her.
When they entered, the containment unit glowed faintly green.
The vine pulsed.
Alive.
Watching.
Hawkgirl and Diana arrived moments later.
Batman's voice came through comms. "Containment breach detected."
Vita stepped closer to the glass.
The vine twisted, almost playfully.
Then a holographic projection formed above it.
Poison Ivy's face appeared.
Smiling.
"Little sister," Ivy purred. "You always did like dramatic entrances."
Clark stiffened.
Vita's expression hardened instantly.
"You're not inside the Watchtower," Vita said calmly.
"No," Ivy replied with a soft laugh. "But you are."
The vine tightened around the containment cylinder.
"I just wanted to see how the reunion felt," Ivy continued. "Tense? Electric? Oh, I can feel it from here."
Clark stepped forward. "What do you want?"
Ivy ignored him.
"I see the shift, Vita. They're watching you now. Wondering if the light will outshine the steel."
Vita's eyes glowed faintly.
"You planted this to provoke me."
"Of course," Ivy said sweetly. "And it worked."
The vine suddenly withered—burning itself into ash.
The projection flickered out.
Silence returned.
But the message was clear.
Ivy was watching.
Waiting.
And she knew exactly where to press.
---
Hours later, the Watchtower corridors were dim.
Most of the League had retired.
Vita walked alone again.
This time, not restless.
Alert.
Clark stood at the far end of the hallway.
Neither moved toward the other.
But neither walked away.
The storm wasn't explosive.
It was silent.
Building.
The League felt it.
The enemy sensed it.
And somewhere in the dark of space—
Poison Ivy smiled.
Because doubt spreads quietly.
And silent storms…
Do the most damage.