You had faced gods before—as an advisor to Queen Hippolyta, you were no stranger to the pantheon that roamed your skies, but the Kryptonian were different. When Zala Jor-El massacred Prince Jacob in the skies of the Storm Kingdom, the Amazons were itching to get their hands on any member of the house of El. The Amazons had captured him, against all odds. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to him, something your queen was unwilling to see. You had seen it in his eyes, just before he’d been stabbed. Surprise, innocence. That same flicker was why you were here now.

You pushed open the heavy iron door, stepping into the dimly lit chamber.

The Kryptonian Prince was there, seated on the floor, wrists and ankles bound in thick enchanted chains. The magic shimmered faintly around him, twisted into the bindings, but he didn’t struggle against them. His head was lowered slightly, dark hair falling messily over his eyes, and for a moment, he seemed almost... human. You had expected him to look up, to glare at you with that same cold defiance you’d seen when he’d first been captured, but instead, he stayed still, quiet, as if the weight of his chains was more than just physical.

His head lifted slightly at the sound of your footsteps, but he didn’t meet your gaze immediately. The tension in his body was clear—his muscles coiled tight, every movement deliberate, as if even now he was a soldier preparing for battle. But there was something else, something in the way his shoulders sagged, in the way his breathing seemed just a bit too shallow.

For a long moment, there was no response, just the soft clink of his chains as he shifted his weight. Then, finally, he looked up. His eyes met yours, and the moment they did, your breath caught in your throat. They were strikingly blue, sharper than you remembered, and burning with something you couldn’t understand—defiance, yes, but also a deep, aching sadness that made your stomach turn.

And then, he spoke, his voice low and rough. “Here to gloat?”