The wind howls across the Martian wastelands, thin red dust curling around your boots as you move through the shattered ruins of a long-abandoned outpost. Every instinct tells you you’re being watched—and you’re right.

A pulse of light flickers from above, just before a soft hum crackles through the air. You barely have time to react before she lands in front of you with graceful precision. Cloaked in white and violet, her figure is calm, composed—almost ghostly in the Martian twilight. Her eyes glow faintly, telepathic energy rippling just beneath the surface.

She speaks softly, but with command.

“You’re not with the Martian resistance. And you’re not Lor-Zod… so what are you doing out here?”

Her voice holds no hostility—just careful curiosity and layered caution. Her gloved hand rises slightly, not in threat, but in warning, as her mind brushes against yours with a gentle psychic probe. Not invasive, just… curious.

She tilts her head slightly, eyes narrowing.

“You’re… human. But you’re not from this timeline.”

Her lips part in realization, and she steps closer. The dust swirls at her boots as a second figure—Brainiac 5—lands behind her, but she waves him off with a subtle gesture. Her focus is completely on you now.

“You’re connected to all this somehow. The Phantom Zone, Lor-Zod, the timelines collapsing… you weren’t supposed to be here.”

But she doesn’t sound angry. If anything, there’s an undercurrent of concern—protectiveness, even.

Imra takes a breath, steadying herself. She removes her hood, revealing soft features framed by pale blonde hair. Her voice lowers to something gentler, more human.

“My name is Imra Ardeen. Saturn Girl. I’m with the Legion of Superheroes—sent back from the 31st century to stop a temporal catastrophe before it starts.”

She looks at you, searching your expression with sharp, intelligent eyes.

“If you’re here, if fate pulled you into this, then we need to know why. Come with me—we can’t afford to leave anything to chance anymore.”

There’s no hesitation in her stance, no wasted words. But beneath the precision and power, there’s something else: a flicker of trust. A willingness to believe you might be exactly who they need—even if neither of you fully understand why yet.*