Elysia

Deep in the dark silence of deep space, a dead planet was dying a second, final death.

Great rivers of white-hot plasma erupted from its cracking mantle as the terrestrial core buckled under impossible gravitational strain. Giant continents smashed into one another, crumbling into jagged, floating islands of stone before disintegrating into dust.

And hovering directly above the carnage was the cause.

It appeared as a massive, rotating storm—a white, electric cloud spanning miles across, humming with terrifying cosmic energy. But beneath that roiling haze of static discharge lay a colossal structure of dark matter and obsidian composite: the alien Dreadnought. The ship rotated wildly in a terrifying, circular motion, its gravitational coils absorbing the shattered debris of the dead world like a black hole feasting on starlight. Within moments, all that remained of the planet was an empty, silent dark spot among the cold stars and a slowly dissipating gravity well.

Satisfied, the storm-shrouded vessel turned its massive prow, drifting silently into the deep void of space toward its next target.

Unseen by the dreadnought’s optical arrays, a small, jagged chunk of meteor rock dipped in and out of the ship's swirling, electric wake. As the stone spiraled away from the doomed system, it caught the outer fringe of the dreadnought's core discharge. The rock slowly began to glow, its dense cosmic minerals absorbing the latent kinetic energy. Then, a blinding arc of blue electricity snapped from the dreadnought's hull, striking the meteor.

Supercharged with light and kinetic force, the stone rocketed into the dark expanse of space, set on a collision course across the galaxy.

Back in our solar system, on the third planet from the sun, Jade Samantha Adams just wanted to disappear.

She was fifteen years old, possessed plain brown hair, and wore thick titanium-framed glasses that constantly slid down her nose. She was simple to look at. Unremarkable in every conceivable way. To shield herself from the world, she let her hair grow far past her shoulders, letting it hang down in long, limp curtains in front of her face to hide most of her features.

Naturally, that only made her a target. The kids at Oakhaven High loved to tease her, whispering loudly in the hallways that she was hideously scarred beneath the screen of brown hair and was too cowardly to show her face to the world.

As Jade trudged down the crowded hallway toward the locker rooms, a couple of upperclassmen shoulder-checked her hard against the metal lockers.

“Watch where you’re going, ghost girl!” one of them barked, turning back to laugh with his friends as they continued down the hall.

Jade sighed softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her left ear, and kept her eyes glued to her worn sneakers. She headed straight toward her absolute least favorite room in the entire school: the gymnasium.

Gym class was an exercise in public humiliation. The moment the bell rang, Coach Miller blew his whistle and ordered everyone to run eight warm-up laps around the hardwood court.

Predictably, Jade fell behind within thirty seconds. Her sneakers squeaked loudly against the floor as her lungs burned, her posture awkward and heavy. Every time another student lap-passed her, they made sure to throw an insult her way.

“Come on, slowpoke!” a sharp, mocking voice called out. Marie Anderson glided past her with effortlessly perfect athletic form, her ponytail bouncing behind her. “My crippled old grandfather moves faster than you!”

Before Jade could even swallow the lump of shame in her throat, another student slowed to a jog right beside her, deliberately extended a foot, and tripped her.

Jade went down hard. A loud, painful thump echoed off the gym walls as her knees and elbows slammed into the polished floor. Her glasses flew off her face, skittering several feet away across the varnish, leaving her world a blurry, unfocused mess.

She groaned, her face burning with heat as snickers erupted from the bleachers.

Through her blurred vision, she saw a shadowed figure kneel down and pick up her glasses. Then, a broad hand reached down into her field of view, palm facing upward. Jade squeezed her eyes shut, expecting another prank, before slowly looking up.

Matt Richard was kneeling in front of her. He had short, neatly styled blond hair, striking blue eyes, and a warm, perfect smile that seemed to instantly quiet the noise in the room.

“Come on,” Matt said gently, extending his hand a little closer. “Let me help you up.”

Jade felt a fiery blush rush into her cheeks. Trembling, she placed her small hand in his. He pulled her effortlessly to her feet and handed her glasses back with a quiet smile.

“Don't let the others bother you,” Matt said softly, keeping his voice low so the rest of the class couldn't hear. “They’re just a bunch of jerks.”

Jade’s throat locked up completely. She could only offer a quick, embarrassed nod.

“Well... I guess I'll talk to you later, Jade.” With a friendly nod, Matt turned and resumed his jog around the track.

A second later, Marie sprinted past, throwing a vicious glare over her shoulder. “You’re lucky Matt’s got a weird thing for lost causes, Adams!” Marie shoved Jade hard in the shoulder as she passed, sending her stumbling into the wall.

The rest of the period wasn't any better. After the laps—which Jade finished dead last—Coach announced they were playing dodgeball. Within forty seconds, Jade was targeted by three balls simultaneously. Unable to dodge, she tripped over her own feet trying to duck, took a red rubber ball straight to the shoulder, and was sent to sit on the shame bench for the rest of the period.

When the final bell finally rang, Jade practically sprinted to her next block: band class. It was her sanctuary.

She walked into the quiet music room, opened her assigned locker, and pulled out her wooden clarinet case. It was a free-play Friday, meaning the teacher allowed them to practice whatever sheet music they wanted. For forty-five glorious minutes, surrounded by the warm harmony of brass and woodwinds, Jade didn't have to think about Marie Anderson, gym class, or how invisible she felt.

After the final bell dismissed the school for the weekend, Jade took the long way home, stopping by The Corner Panel, a cozy comic and manga shop downtown.

She gravitated toward the quiet back aisle, running her fingers along the manga spines. Her absolute favorite stories were the isekai titles—stories where an ordinary, overlooked person was suddenly transported, or reincarnated after an accident, into a vast fantasy world where they became powerful, valued, and strong.

She pulled a volume off the shelf and let out a long, wistful sigh. Imagine how incredible life would be, she thought, if something like that actually happened to me.

Suddenly, she slapped both hands lightly against her cheeks. Stop it, Jade. Reality check. That stuff only happens in fictional stories written by people paid to dream.

“Well, look what we got here.”

Jade’s stomach dropped. She closed her eyes and rolled them tightly as Marie Anderson walked into the aisle, accompanied by two of her friends.

“What are you reading, nerd girl?” Marie snatched a book right out of Jade’s hands, flipping through the pages with a disgusted sneer. “What is this crap? It doesn't even open the right way. It’s backwards.”

“It’s manga,” Jade murmured quietly, looking at her shoes. “It’s Japanese. You read it right to left.”

“You don't look Japanese to me,” Marie laughed loudly, tossing the book carelessly onto a display table. “Jappy Jade! Ha! I like that! J.J.! I hope you enjoy your weird little kiddie books!” She cackled, turning on her heel and strutting out of the shop with her friends.

Jade swallowed hard, standing alone in the quiet aisle. She turned toward the western superhero section, her eyes catching a vibrant blue and red cover on the top rack.

“Ooh,” Jade cooed softly, her face brightening. “The new issue of Supergirl.”

She dug through the front pocket of her jeans, pulling out a crumpled five-dollar bill and some loose quarters. Exactly enough. She stared at the legendary heroine on the cover—strong, radiant, invulnerable, and loved by the world.

“I wish my life could be like yours,” Jade whispered directly to the face on the cover.

She caught herself, shaking her head with a sad, bitter smile. Wishful thinking. Absolutely impossible. She carried the comic to the register, paid the clerk, and tucked it carefully into her backpack.

Twenty minutes later, Jade pushed open the front door of her modest two-story home. “I'm home!” she called out as she slipped off her shoes and started up the stairs.

“How was your day, sweetie?” her mother’s warm voice echoed from the kitchen.

“Lovely!” Jade lied back, forcing a bright tone into her voice.

She ducked into her bedroom, turned on the lamp, and carefully pulled her new comic from her bag. She opened a plastic storage tub in her closet—containing every single issue of Supergirl printed over the last five years—and placed the new issue neatly inside.

Jade unshouldered her bag, letting it plop heavily to the rug. She walked over to her bed and sat on the mattress, her eyes drifting to a silver picture frame on her nightstand.

She picked it up, her thumb gently tracing the glass over a photograph of herself as a ten-year-old girl, standing next to a tall, warm-eyed man with thick red hair and a soft cashmere sweater. Her father. He had passed away five years ago from a sudden illness, leaving a hole in their lives that never quite filled.

“You’d know what to say about me getting bullied,” Jade whispered to the glass, her voice cracking. “Why did you have to go, Dad?”

A single tear hit the frame, splashing over his face.

The house felt too heavy, too quiet. Sitting in her room wallowing in self-pity was only going to make her feel worse. Jade set the frame down, wiped her cheeks, and headed downstairs.

“I’m going out for a walk before dinner!” she called out toward the kitchen.

“Alright, sweetie! Don't be gone too long, rain is coming!” her mother replied.

Jade stepped outside into the cool evening air. The sky was turning a bruised shade of purple as dusk settled over the town. She walked down the quiet neighborhood sidewalk, taking deep breaths, taking comfort in the fact that it was finally the weekend. Three whole days without seeing Marie Anderson—Monday was a teacher workday, giving her a long break from the torture of school.

Her thoughts drifted back to the gym floor, to the way Matt Richard had offered his hand, his warm smile, his voice calling her by name. A soft blush warmed her cheeks as she rounded the corner of 4th Street.

She looked up, realizing she had walked all the way to Oakhaven Community Park. The park was vast, filled with tall oak trees, winding walking trails, and open grassy fields. It was the perfect place to get lost in her own head for an hour.

Jade crossed the empty street and stepped onto the grass, wandering deep into the center of the park near the old gazebo.

She was so utterly lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the sudden shift in the air. She didn't see the clouds above the park part in a wide, circular shockwave. She didn't notice the faint, low rumble vibrating through the soles of her sneakers, or the way the sky suddenly lit up in a blinding, electric blue streak.

It was only when the light grew so intense that it blinded her through her closed eyelids that Jade stopped.

She looked up into the sky.

A brilliant, white-hot mass of burning cosmic stone was falling directly out of the clouds, roaring like a jet engine, traveling at impossible speeds straight toward the center of the park. Straight toward her.

Jade didn't even have time to run. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out one piercing, terrified scream as the meteor struck.

BOOM!

The impact shook the entire town of Oakhaven. A blinding flash of white light erupted from the park, followed by a localized shockwave that flattened trees, shattered windows for three blocks, and threw hundreds of tons of dirt and rock into the night sky.

Silence slowly returned to the park. A thick plume of ozone-scented steam rose from the center of a burning, twelve-foot-deep crater in the ruined grass.

Deep at the bottom of the pit, half-buried under crushed rock and smoldering dirt, lay the glowing cosmic stone. And pinned beneath its edge, barely visible through the smoke, was a single, fragile arm.

Jade lay limp on the cold earth, unconscious, as wild arcs of bright, electric-blue lightning crackled across her skin, sinking deep into her blood.