"Clark," she murmured, tasting the name. "Well, darling. Let's see if you're lying."
He didn't push her away. He didn't punch. He rose . Straight up, through the clouds, into the freezing stratosphere. Xenia clung tighter, laughing, gasping, the green fire in her veins starting to flicker. The air thinned. The cold bit through her stolen invincibility.
"Everything that makes me feel alive is poison, darling," she said, standing. "You should know that better than anyone."
The first time Xenia Onatopp felt truly alive was between a strangle and a scream. The second time was in the wreckage of a crashed spaceship. superman returns xenia
Finally , she thought. Something new. Three days later, Xenia stood in the center of the crater. The ship—Kryptonian, she’d learned from the dead scientist she’d followed—was mostly dark. But its core hummed. A pulsing green heart. She pressed her palm to it. Instead of killing her, it purred . Her veins lit up like circuitry. For the first time in her life, she felt weakness leave.
Superman closed his eyes. Not in pain. In sadness .
"You asked what happens when I break. Answer: I don't. But I heal. And so can you. — Clark" "Clark," she murmured, tasting the name
The impact tore her loose. The cold shock ate the last of the crystal's glow. She sank, spinning, limbs gone soft and human again.
He stepped forward. "I'm offering you help. A containment cell. Therapy. There are people who—"
She moved faster than he expected—Kryptonian speed, wrong and sickly green. Her fist connected with his ribs. He staggered. Not because it hurt. Because it shouldn't have moved him at all. He didn't punch
Xenia Onatopp read it three times. Then she laughed until her ribs hurt, until the nurse came running, until she realized—horrified, delighted, finally curious —that for the first time in her life, she didn't feel like killing anyone.
"Oh, darling," she whispered. "I could get used to this." Metropolis didn’t know what hit it.
She laughed. It was bright and sharp as a diamond saw.
He pulled her from the dark. She woke in a white room. No windows. A bed that wasn't silk. Her wrists were bandaged. Her legs ached.
The news called her "The Emerald Ghost." Lex Luthor, watching from his tower, smiled. But Xenia wasn't working for anyone. Not anymore.