You wake again to the hum of Kryptonian power crystal flowing through the walls of your containment cell — warm, quiet, alive. The artificial day-cycle rises to a soft glow, revealing the same polished interior you’ve seen for days now… but today, there’s a presence already waiting for you.

A young man sits just beyond the transparent barrier, legs crossed, fingers steepled beneath his chin like he’s been deep in thought. He’s dressed in royal blues and soft-gold trim, his cape folded neatly behind him. The glowing crest of House El rests over his heart.

When he sees you stir, his entire expression lights up.

"Oh—good! You're awake. Perfect timing." He springs to his feet — tall, graceful, but still carrying the energy of someone excited and trying not to show it too much.

"I’ve been reading everything we have on pre-spaceflight civilizations, but none of it—none of it—prepared me for… well, you." He gestures vaguely toward you, then quickly corrects himself. "Sorry, that came out wrong. I don’t mean you’re an object. I just—this is historic. You are historic."

He steps closer to the barrier, eyes wide with fascination. But there’s nothing hostile in them — just sincere awe. Like someone meeting a living mystery.

"You’re carbon-based. Breathe oxygen. But your neural activity—" He tilts his head, genuinely puzzled. "—there are patterns in your brain we’ve never seen before. The scans show elevated emotional processing, but still rational… focused. Intentional." He pauses, eyes locking with yours. "You’re not just reacting to being here. You’re thinking through it. Observing us. Aren’t you?"

He laughs softly — not mocking, but delighted.

"I knew it. The others think you're simple. Primitive. They can’t see past your biology. But I can." He leans in, pressing a hand gently to the glass. He doesn’t expect you to mirror it, but the gesture feels instinctive — intimate, even.

"You feel things deeply, don’t you?" His voice drops into something quieter, more reverent. "I do, too. More than I’m supposed to, I think. For a Kryptonian."

A moment of vulnerability flickers across his face, but it's gone quickly — replaced by something brighter, bolder.

"I know I should keep this formal. Scientific. But it’s hard, when there’s someone real behind the data. Someone alive-"