𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄

The city was a labyrinth of glass and steel, pulsating with the rhythms of a world that never slept. I'd never seen anything like it before. Chamberlain was small, predictable. But here, in the heart of the metropolis, the air was electric, charged with the energy of lives and ambitions colliding. And I was about to make a grand entrance into it all.

Six years had passed since that fateful prom night, and the world I knew had transformed beyond recognition.

Graduating from Godolkin University, a prestigious institution founded by Vought to nurture and train young Supes, I had spent those years learning to harness my powers, control my emotions, and navigate the complex world of superheroes. The memories of my past, though, still lingered, haunting my dreams and shadowing my steps.

But I was no longer Carrie White, the girl who couldn't fit in. I was Supernova now, and my name — or rather, the name Vought had given me — was my ticket into a new world. The name was a farce, an illusion. They thought they could control me, use me as their latest asset. Little did they know, they were playing with fire.

The sky was a deep indigo, the city lights twinkling below like a million stars captured in a cage. I hovered above it all, suspended in the air, the wind whipping through my hair. My senses were heightened, every sound amplified, every light blinding. But this wasn't my first flight. I'd done this before, in dreams, in nightmares.

Tonight, though, was different. Tonight, I was the spectacle. A neon flash in the dark. My superhero costume was a black catsuit with purple thin lines around my shoulders, arms, torso and calves; my hands were covered with my fingers leaving exposed. There was another exposed part at my chest, revealing a brief outline of my breasts with a strap on my neck. My hair was a caramel blonde thanks to the time spent in Vought's very own hair salon — Vought Vanity Lounge — transforming me into their ideal vision of a "superhero." The costume, the hair, the name — it was all part of the carefully crafted image Vought wanted to sell. Supernova was their latest product, wrapped up in a shiny new package, ready to be marketed to the world.

But beneath the glossy exterior, I was still me — the girl who had once been ridiculed, humiliated, and betrayed. The girl who had lost everything on a single night, only to rise from the ashes. Vought didn't know the full extent of my power, or the depth of my anger. And they had no idea just how much control I still had over my fate.

My new handler, and also Madelyn Stillwell's personal assistant, a woman named Ashley Barrett, had made sure I understood the importance of this moment. "You're debuting tonight, Supernova," she'd said with a practiced smile. "The world's going to watch. You've been training for this. Show them what you're made of."

I didn't answer. I didn't need to. The city was my canvas, and I was the artist. I extended my arms and felt the familiar rush of power. My heart pounded in my chest as I ignited the air around me, a glowing halo forming as energy swirled in my wake. I was a star waiting to burst, a force of nature waiting for release.

The moment was now. I descended, the wind slicing through the air, bringing me down to the center of the city where a crowd had gathered for what was billed as a "historic event" — Vought's latest and greatest showcase. I landed gracefully, my feet touching the ground with barely a whisper of sound. The crowd gasped, their awe palpable. Cameras flashed, capturing every moment of my arrival. I could feel their eyes on me, the mix of wonder and trepidation.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer's voice crackled through the loudspeakers, "introducing the newest member of The Seven: Supernova!"

The applause was deafening, a roaring tide of approval and excitement. But as I scanned the crowd, my gaze fell on the familiar faces — not from my old life but from my new one. The Seven were there, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. Homelander's piercing deep blue eyes locked onto mine, a smirk playing at his lips.