Chapter Text
Superman comes across her when he was assisting with the recovery of survivors from the ruins of those parts of Metropolis which had been subject to the World Engine, him and Zod, or both.
He had no idea how she had survived the collision, the formation of a Phantom Zone pocket, or any of the rest of it.
And yet clearly she had.
Clark stilled as he looked at the concrete block pinning down her unconscious form.
'I am Sub-Commander Faora-Ul,' she had told him so recently and feeling so long ago
What do I do now? Clark wondered. Hand her over so people can prosecute her for so much of Metropolis' destruction? Condemning her to a life behind bars...for however long that lasts.
And he could well imagine all the possible things that would be done...or attempted. The Sub-Commander was one of the people who had torn apart Metropolis, true, but she was also one of the only two survivors of Krypton with all its wealth of knowledge and technology or so they assume. And would some see her as insurance, perhaps holding her in isolation and letting Clark speak to her only when he did that country a favor? Or trying to build a species survival plan?
Concrete crunched to gravel dust underfoot.
As he lifted the block and moved it somewhere it wasn't of danger to anyone, Or do I hide her away? Granted she's a bit big to fit under my porch. But seriously, where do I take her that she won't be found - and how long til she tries to kill me for it, if she does try? Where do you put a Kryptonian?
A grim expression near enough to a smile on his face. "Well, as it happens, that's one thing I do know."