The first thing Lucy felt was... good.
Not just okay. Good. The deep, bone-weary ache that had been her constant companion for weeks was gone. The fog in her head had lifted, leaving her mind clear and sharp. She took a breath, and it didn’t hitch in her chest. It was full and easy.
She sat up, the thin, silvery blanket that had been covering her pooling around her waist. This wasn’t the Citadel’s sick bay. The bed was a simple, woven cot, and it stood in the open air.
The sky above was a swirl of violet and deep magenta, streaked with neon-green clouds that drifted slowly. Five moons, each a different size and color—one pearl-white, one blood-orange, one a shimmering aqua, and two smaller, silvery ones—hung in a perfect arc overhead, casting an ethereal, multi-colored light. The ground was pale, dusty stone, stretching out to a horizon of jagged, dark mountains. The air smelled of ozone and something sweet, like alien honey.
It was silent. Profoundly, unnervingly silent.
A flicker of movement caught her eye. A man sat perched on a large, smooth rock a dozen yards away, his back to her. He was tall, with broad shoulders and hair as black as her own.
"Hello?" Her voice sounded small in the vast quiet.
Lucy’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a sudden, frantic drum.
It was her father’s face.
The same strong jaw, the same slight curve to his nose, the same way his eyebrows arched. But it was... different. Younger. The lines of worry she remembered were gone, replaced by a sharp, ageless quality. His eyes, which she remembered as warm brown, were now a striking, luminous silver, like the two smaller moons above.
He smiled, and it was her father’s smile, the one he’d give her before bed when she was small. "There she is. My little starfire."
The old nickname, one he hadn’t used since she was a child, sent a jolt through her. "Dad...?" The word was a whisper, torn between disbelief and a desperate, aching hope.
He stood and walked toward her, his movements fluid and soundless. "Took you long enough to wake up. How are you feeling?"
"Fine... I feel fine," she stammered, her mind reeling. "What is this? Where are we? They told me... they told me you were dead. There was a shuttle accident..."
His smile softened, but his silver eyes held a deep, ancient sorrow. "Don’t you recognize your old man anymore?" He stopped a few feet away, giving her space. "I didn’t die, Lucy. I had to disappear. I had to make them think I was gone. It was the only way to protect you and your brother."
"Protect us from what?" she asked, her voice trembling. This was impossible. It had to be a dream, a trick. But the ground felt solid under her feet. The strange, sweet air was real in her lungs.
He gestured around them, at the impossible sky. "From this. From me." He let out a long sigh, and it was then she saw the weight he carried, a gravity that had nothing to do with Earth. "I’m not from here, Lucy. I’m not even... entirely human. This," he said, pointing to the neon-drenched world around them, "is a lot closer to home than that little blue planet you grew up on."
Lucy stared, her brain refusing to process it. Her father. Her kind, quiet, engineer father was an... alien? The word felt silly and dramatic, but there was no other.
"People are after me," he continued, his voice low and serious. "Powerful people, with long memories and longer reach. They’ve been hunting me for a very long time. I built a life on Earth, found your mother, had you and Lucian... it was the closest thing to peace I ever had." His jaw tightened. "But when I realized your powers were awakening... when I felt that familiar spark in you from across the stars... I knew I had to come back. I couldn’t let them find you. They’d use you, or worse, to get to me."
He reached out, his hand hovering near her cheek, not quite touching. "I’m sorry I had to take you like that. But there was no time to explain. They’re getting closer."
She looked back at him, her heart pounding. She saw the man she remembered, the father who called her "starfire". But she also saw the alien markings under his skin, the vast weight of power in his stance, the secrets that had shaped her entire life.
Now, under the light of five moons, with a father she thought was dead calling her "starfire," it all felt terrifyingly different.
"This is a lot," she finally said, her voice shaky but clear.
Her father—Alistair—chuckled, a warm, familiar sound that was utterly at odds with their surroundings. "Yeah. I know it is." He sat on the edge of her cot. "Take your time. Ask your questions."
She looked at him, really looked, searching for the man she remembered in this stranger’s silver eyes. "Are you really my dad?"
The smile he gave her was heartbreakingly genuine. "Through and through, kid. I might be from a different rock, but I’m the one who taught you how to ride a bike. I’m the one who read you stories about brave knights and distant galaxies. That doesn’t change."
Tears welled in her eyes, a confusing mix of grief, relief, and sheer terror. "What happens now?" Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⁂𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⁂𝕟𝕖𝕥
"Now," he said, his expression turning grim and determined, "I teach you what you are. I teach you how to hide, how to fight, how to control the power in your blood. Because if my enemies find us, talking won’t be an option." He stood and offered her his hand. "Your brother is strong. He can look after himself for now. But you, Lucy... you’re vulnerable. And you’re my daughter. I won’t lose you again."
Hesitantly, Lucy placed her hand in his. His grip was firm, warm, and undeniably real. She was on an alien world, under a neon sky, with a father returned from the dead who was telling her she wasn’t human.
The safe, predictable world of the Citadel was gone. The life she knew was over.
But as she stood there, holding her father’s hand, a strange, new feeling began to push through the fear. It was a spark, small but defiant. It was the beginning of an answer.
"Okay," Lucy said, her voice finding a new strength. "Okay, Dad. Teach me."