Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Falling Star
The jungle beyond the flickering gas lamps of Encanto was usually a symphony for Dolores, a tapestry of chirping crickets, rustling leaves, and the distant, rhythmic hum of the village. But tonight, a sound tore through the familiar harmony, sharp and alien. It was a searing hiss, followed by a ground-shaking thud that rumbled even the sturdy foundations of Casita. Dolores, perched on the highest balcony, clapped her hands over her ears, a gasp escaping her lips.
Downstairs, Mirabel was meticulously re-stitching a loose thread on one of Casita’s embroidered cushions, her brow furrowed in concentration. Her own internal symphony was a familiar tune of quiet frustration. Another day, another opportunity to feel useful, and another day where her efforts seemed to fade into the vibrant background of her family's gifts. Luisa effortlessly rerouted a river earlier, Isabela bloomed an entire orchid garden with a flick of her wrist, and even Antonio, barely five, was already chatting with the capybaras about his upcoming ceremony. Mirabel just… sewed.
A sudden, jarring vibration rattled the needles in her basket. Casita itself seemed to shudder, sending a cascade of small ceramic tiles clattering from a shelf. Mirabel looked up, startled. "Casita? What was that?"
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Dolores appeared at the top of the stairs, her face pale, eyes wide with an uncharacteristic alarm. "Mirabel! You have to go. There was… a crash. Something fell in the jungle. Far out, beyond the old cacao trees."
Mirabel blinked. "Me? Why me? Couldn't... couldn't anyone else?" She knew why. Everyone else was either busy or considered too valuable to send on a potentially dangerous wild goose chase in the dark. It was the familiar sting of being the expendable one. Still, Dolores's urgency was unsettling.
"I can hear... buzzing," Dolores whispered, her voice strained. "And a deep hum. It's… strong. It feels like… nothing I've ever heard. Just… go! Before Abuela notices."
Reluctantly, Mirabel grabbed her shawl and a lantern, the familiar weight of being overlooked quickly replaced by a prickle of genuine curiosity mixed with apprehension. The humid night air pressed in on her as she slipped out of Casita. The jungle, usually alive with nocturnal whispers, seemed eerily quiet, the normal symphony muted by an expectant hush. Only the frantic thrumming in the distance, just barely audible to her un-enhanced ears, pulled her forward.
She navigated the winding paths, the beam of her lantern cutting through the thick foliage. The air grew heavy, charged with something indefinable, a metallic tang she couldn't quite place. As she pushed through a final curtain of vines, she stumbled into a small clearing, her breath catching in her throat.
Before her lay not a fallen tree or a meteor crater, but something far stranger. Embedded deep within the churned earth was a sleek, dark metallic capsule, unlike any material she had ever seen. It shimmered faintly under the sliver of moon, reflecting the surrounding trees in distorted, impossible ways. A soft, rhythmic pulse emanated from its smooth surface, like a heartbeat. It was clearly not from Encanto. It was not from this world.
She approached cautiously, her heart thumping against her ribs. The hum Dolores had mentioned was louder here, a low thrum that vibrated through the soles of her worn espadrilles. As she reached out a trembling hand, barely brushing the surface, a section of the capsule hissed, slowly unfurling like a metallic flower petal.
Inside, bathed in an otherworldly blue light, was something she couldn't comprehend. It wasn't a machine, not quite. It was a swirling, crystalline vortex of light and intricate patterns, like starlight trapped in a living current. It pulsed, brighter now, and she felt an inexplicable pull, a profound resonance deep within her bones. The air crackled with energy, and the swirling light within the capsule seemed to reach out, beckoning her.
Mirabel, driven by a sudden, overwhelming curiosity she couldn't resist, leaned closer. As her hand, almost of its own accord, reached into the blue luminescence, a searing, blinding white light erupted from the capsule. It wasn't painful, not truly, but it was an intensity that stripped away all other senses. The thrumming intensified, vibrating through her very cells, and she felt a sudden, impossible rush of information, like a thousand lifetimes flashing through her mind in an instant. Images, sounds, feelings—of distant stars, of towering cities made of impossible light, of a vibrant, dying world, and then… nothing but a profound, silent hum settling deep within her.
The light receded as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the jungle steeped in a newfound, almost sacred silence. The capsule was still there, but the swirling, crystalline vortex was gone. It had simply… vanished.
Mirabel stood rooted, her hand still extended, but now, a strange warmth emanated from her very core, spreading outwards. It wasn't the humid heat of the jungle, but something… solar. Something vibrant and alive. She took a shaky breath, and the air filled her lungs not just with the scent of damp earth, but with a thousand other nuances – the faintest perfume of night-blooming jasmine from far down the valley, the metallic tang of rain on distant mountains, the rapid pulse of a hummingbird hovering meters away. Her ears, too, were overwhelmed. Every rustle of leaves, every distant chirp, every tiny creature scurrying beneath the undergrowth, seemed amplified, distinct, urgent.
She tried to take a step back, her mind reeling, but her foot slipped on the damp ground. Instead of falling, however, she found herself floating, just for a breath, an inch above the earth. Her eyes widened. She instinctively pushed off a tree, and instead of a gentle push, the tree trunk groaned, a small crack appearing in its bark. Mirabel yelped, pulling her hand away as if burned.
What was happening?
Panic started to bubble, but then, another sensation, quieter but profound, settled over her. It was a clarity, a sense of innate capability. She looked at her hands, ordinary hands that had only ever mended and created small, tangible things. But now, they felt… capable of so much more.
She thought of Luisa, strong and unyielding. Mirabel felt a surge of raw, physical power coiling in her limbs, a profound echo of Luisa's gift, but amplified a hundredfold. She could feel the weight of the earth, the pressure of the air, and it felt like she could reshape it.
She thought of Isabela, bringing life and beauty to everything she touched. Mirabel felt a similar surge, not of plant manipulation, but of an almost primal connection to the very essence of life around her. She could feel the delicate processes of growth, the silent energy of photosynthesis, the microscopic ballet of nature.
She thought of Pepa, whose emotions dictated the very weather. Mirabel felt an awareness of the atmospheric currents, the shifting temperatures, the faint electrical charges in the air. Not that she could control them yet, but she felt them, as if they were an extension of her own skin.
She tried to calm her frantic breathing, inhaling deeply. As she exhaled, a soft, ethereal glow seemed to emanate from her, a subtle luminescence that briefly lit the immediate clearing. It pulsed gently, like the fading embers of a fire.
The humming deep within her, the one that had replaced the swirling vortex, settled into a steady, comforting rhythm. It wasn't an alien sound anymore. It was her. This power, these senses, they were part of her now. She was still Mirabel, but she was… more. Much, much more.
A distant sound cut through the overwhelming newness: the gentle chime of Casita's bell, signaling the approach of dawn. She had to get back, but how? How could she explain any of this?
She looked at the small fissure in the tree, then at the deep indent where the capsule had landed. This wasn't a dream. This was real. And if Dolores could hear a far-off hum, then someone else might investigate the damage. Her new abilities, she instinctively knew, needed to remain a secret. At least for now.
The light of the vanishing Codex left behind more than just new abilities. Where the crystalline vortex had been, nestled within the folds of the metallic petal, lay two objects: a carefully folded suit made of a dark, almost charcoal-blue material, and a glistening, palm-sized crystal etched with a familiar yet alien symbol—an 'S' contained within a pentagon.
As Mirabel reached for the crystal, a voice, calm and deep yet echoing with the sound of a thousand generations, resonated inside her mind, bypassing her ears entirely.
"Mirabel Madrigal of earth, sorry for the sudden change. I must confess it was necessary, but if you must know, you now hold inside your new DNA Kryptonian DNA—enough of it for our race to survive and give you 'gifts' like your family candle, Mirabel Madrigal, but so much more."
Mirabel froze, the crystal cold and smooth in her hand. Kryptonian? DNA? The rush of information she'd felt now coalesced into a terrifying reality: she was fundamentally changed.
"I assure you, this was the only way for the Kryptonian race to survive, and we are sorry it had to be you. Inside is your hero costume from our planet. It will protect you when saving everyone, but know this: you are special without our gift. Just use it wisely and respectfully."
Her gaze darted between the suit and the dented tree trunk. Protect her from what? And who was this voice?
"Side note: your family will see a door for you today and will probably ask questions. Just be you, Mirabel. Your room will be our Fortress of Solitude, and we will train you to help. Please give Kryptonians a new hope and home. That's all I ask. I will talk to you inside your room."
The voice faded, leaving only the profound hum. A door? After years of the blank, unyielding wood? Today?
The rising sun was already painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges—dawn was minutes away. She had to hide the evidence and get back before Abuela discovered her absence. Driven by a desperate need for secrecy, Mirabel quickly wrapped the suit inside her shawl and tucked the crystal safely into her satchel.
She looked at the capsule, now inert metal. How to hide this? She grabbed a handful of dirt, intending to spread it over the metallic shell, but as her fingers touched the soil, the ground seemed to shift and compress beneath her touch. She wasn't just covering it; she was gently, effortlessly burying the entire capsule with a small mound of earth and fallen leaves, reshaping the landscape with minimal effort—an unconscious display of her new super strength combined with a Madrigal-like earth manipulation resonance.
Panic lent her speed. She didn't consciously intend to run fast, she simply intended to hurry. The jungle blurred into streaks of green and brown. A misplaced root was suddenly beneath her foot, but instead of tripping, she didn't lose momentum. She was moving at an impossible rate, leaping over ravines in single bounds. Her clothes flapped against her like sails, and for a terrifying second, she realized she was flying—not just hopping, but surging forward, barely grazing the tops of the highest ferns.
Too fast! Too fast!
She slammed on the mental brakes, crashing back to earth in a controlled skid that churned the earth beneath her feet for meters before she slowed to a breathless stop, just at the familiar edge of the woods.
She was ten minutes away by foot, but the journey had taken mere seconds. Her heart hammered, not from exertion, but from sheer terror and exhilaration. She had a suit, a mission, a secret, and now... a door.
Slipping back into Casita just as the first rays of sun crested the mountains, Mirabel rushed to her nursery room. She looked down at the satchel containing the crystal and the suit. She had a double life now, and the first order of business was to keep the secret.
She slipped into the main hall just as a series of sharp, ecstatic gasps and cries erupted from the family. They weren't looking at her. They were staring at a previously blank wall.
Where there had been bare, ordinary plaster, stood a glowing, carved wooden door, intricately detailed with symbols and colors Mirabel recognized, but also new, subtle carvings of stars and celestial patterns. It was beautiful. It was hers.
The family turned, their stunned gazes falling upon Mirabel, who stood there, breathing hard, trying desperately to appear normal, with the weight of an entire lost planet pressed beneath her skin.