Shadowflame

In the grand, marble-floored palace of Themyscira, the air was thick with the kind of tension that usually comes with family secrets and epic Greek drama. Diana found herself in a quiet corner with her mother, Hippolyta. The regal queen's face was a study in contemplation, though not exactly in a relaxing way. 

Diana started, her voice wavering a bit as if trying to balance on the tightrope of her emotions. "So, I've been thinking... about naming him Charis. It's a Greek word for 'Grace' or 'Kindness,' and it seems to fit."

Hippolyta's eyes softened, the hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Charis is a lovely choice, Diana. It's fitting, given the circumstances." She paused, letting the words sink in. "Though he may not be allowed in Themyscira due to our strict laws—being a man and all—he is still family."

Diana's brow furrowed. "I know. I mean, technically, he's not even a man yet—just sixteen. But it's hard knowing he can't be here."

The Queen leaned back, a contemplative look on her face as if weighing the balance of ancient traditions against new realities. "It's true. Our customs are what they are. Men have no place here, and there are many who would rather not change that, especially given past grievances. But despite all that, he's part of our bloodline. He's my grandson, even if by the thinnest of technicalities."

Diana took a deep breath, trying to wrap her head around the reality of it all. "I just want him to know that he belongs somewhere, even if it's not with us."

Hippolyta's hand reached out, resting gently on Diana's. "We can't change the laws, but we can make sure he knows he's loved. We can find ways to honor him from afar."

The two shared a quiet moment, framed by the grandeur of the palace. The idea of Charis, or Harry as he was known outside their world, was a bittersweet reminder of the complexities of their lives. It was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole—neat and tidy, but never quite right. 

Yet, despite the rules and the drama, the bond of family held firm, a golden thread tying their hearts together. And somewhere between the strict customs of Themyscira and the shifting sands of their own hearts, a place for Harry was carved out.

—

Diana took a deep breath. She had just navigated a heart-to-heart with her mother, which, honestly, had gone better than expected. But now she had to face an even more daunting challenge: her adoptive sister, Aresia. If there was a ranking of people most likely to be difficult about a sixteen-year-old boy suddenly becoming part of the family, Aresia would top the list, no contest. 

Aresia's quarters were exactly what you'd expect from someone who could win a staring contest with a stone statue—regal, organized, and with the kind of sharp edges that said, "I'm a warrior, don't mess with me." Diana walked in, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in her stomach. Aresia was standing by the window, gazing out at the island like she was expecting trouble to float in on the next wave.

"Diana," Aresia said, not even bothering to turn around. Her voice had that suspicious edge, like she was already mentally preparing her battle strategy. "What brings you here?"

Diana took a moment to pull herself together. "We need to talk about something important. It's about the boy, Harry."

That got Aresia's attention. Her posture snapped into battle-ready mode, like she was bracing for a fight. "What about him?"

Here's where it got tricky. Diana sighed. "He's... well, technically, he's my son. I found him on the verge of death, and Luthorcorp—being the bastion of good decisions they are—decided to play mad scientist and spliced his DNA with mine. So, technically, he's my son."

Aresia whirled around, eyes narrowing into what could only be described as the Amazonian version of the death glare. "A man? You brought a man into this world?"

"Not exactly by choice," Diana said quickly, holding up her hands in surrender. "He was practically dead when I found him. Now he's a sixteen-year-old boy who's really going to need some help figuring all this out."

Aresia's expression was somewhere between "Are you serious?" and "I'm about to throw something." "So he's part of your DNA but not part of our world. Why should we care?"

Diana softened her tone, going for the heartstrings. "Because he's family, Aresia. I know how you feel about men, but he's not just any man. He's part of our bloodline, and that means something."

Aresia's eyes narrowed as she considered this. "So, we're supposed to accept him as part of the family, just like that? And what about the problems he might bring? He's a man, after all."

Diana was ready for this. "He's not coming to Themyscira. I'm just asking for your understanding and support. We can't change our laws, but we can acknowledge that he's connected to us. He deserves to know he's not alone in this."

Aresia's expression didn't give anything away. "I'll think about it. But if his presence puts us in danger or disrupts our way of life, I won't hesitate to act."

Diana nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "Thank you, Aresia. I really appreciate you hearing me out."

As Diana left Aresia's quarters, the tension in the air didn't exactly vanish. She knew this was only the beginning of a long, complicated journey. But if there was one thing Diana had learned over the years, it was that sometimes the hardest battles weren't fought with swords or shields, but with understanding, patience, and a whole lot of heart.

—

So, here's the thing: when you're suddenly the son of Wonder Woman (on a technicality, but let's not split hairs), your life gets... weird. I'm talking "falling through a magical death portal and waking up in a whole new world" kind of weird. But I'll tell you what's even weirder—binge-watching a 1980s TV show with a teenage Martian.

Yep, you heard that right. A Martian. And not just any Martian—M'gann M'orzz, or as I like to call her, Megan, because honestly, trying to pronounce her full name without butchering it is like trying to recite a tongue twister with a mouth full of chocolate frogs. She's cool though, super friendly, and totally obsessed with this TV show called Hello, Megan!

Now, before you judge, let me explain. The show is one of those cheesy, feel-good sitcoms from the 80s. Think laugh tracks, bright clothes, and catchphrases galore. And Megan? She's totally hooked. She even modeled her entire Earth persona after the main character, also named Megan. So when she suggested we binge-watch the entire series together, how could I say no?

"Harry, you're going to love this episode," Megan said, her eyes practically glowing with excitement as she hit play on the next episode. We were on the couch in the Watchtower's lounge, surrounded by enough snacks to fuel a Quidditch team through a double overtime match.

I grinned, popping a handful of popcorn into my mouth. "I'm ready. Bring on the neon colors and over-the-top life lessons."

The opening credits rolled, complete with the show's catchy theme song. I have to admit, there's something oddly comforting about the predictable plotlines and the way everything wraps up neatly in twenty-two minutes. It's like taking a break from the chaos of my life, which, believe me, has been pretty chaotic lately.

As the episode played out, I found myself laughing along with Megan. She knew every line, every gag, and every silly dance move. And honestly? It was kind of infectious. We were halfway through the series now, and I could see why she loved it so much. It was like a slice of pure, unfiltered joy. 

"'Hello, Megan!'" Megan chirped, mimicking the main character's catchphrase as the episode ended.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "You know, I never thought I'd be here—watching old sitcoms in space with a Martian. But I'm glad I am."

Megan beamed at me. "I'm glad you're here too, Harry. You're kind of like the brother I never had."

That hit me right in the feels. After everything I'd been through, finding a friend like Megan was... well, it was pretty great. And if binge-watching Hello, Megan! was what it took to forget about the craziness for a while, then so be it.

"Thanks, Megan," I said, meaning it. "Now, let's see what Megan gets up to next."

And just like that, we dove back into the world of laugh tracks, neon scrunchies, and the weirdly wonderful life of Megan Wheeler. Because sometimes, when life throws you a magical death portal and a bunch of unexpected new family members, all you really need is a good TV show and a friend who makes you feel at home.

—

Lex Luthor sat in his meticulously organized office, surrounded by the cold glow of monitors that made him look like a supervillain straight out of a comic book. Which, let's be honest, wasn't far from the truth. On the screens, data from Project Chimera scrolled endlessly, taunting him with what should have been his greatest achievement. Instead, it felt like the universe had served him a giant slice of humble pie.

The Subject—a nameless kid who had somehow ended up half-dead in the Nevada Desert—was supposed to be Luthor's magnum opus. A weapon so powerful it would make Superman look like a kid with a slingshot. Luthor could still remember the day his team had found the boy. The kid was barely hanging on, but he was radiating energy like a malfunctioning nuclear reactor. And no one could figure out what the heck it was. It wasn't Kryptonian, Martian, or anything else on the intergalactic bingo card. Whatever it was, it had "game-changer" written all over it.

Luthor's brain had gone into overdrive. The boy's DNA was like a treasure map with no key, full of ancient secrets and hints of something big, something primal. Luthor had toyed with a bunch of wild theories: Maybe the kid was the last of some ancient race. Maybe he was some mad scientist's lab experiment gone wrong (or right, depending on your perspective). Whatever the case, the potential was clear. And Luthor was not the kind of guy to let potential go to waste.

So, what did he do? He decided to play mad scientist himself. The kid's mysterious powers combined with the DNA of an Amazon? Jackpot. Wonder Woman's blood was just the ticket. After all, she could trade punches with Superman on a good day. Mix that with the boy's strange energy, and Luthor would have the ultimate weapon. Something even the Justice League couldn't handle without losing a few teeth.

But, of course, Luthor wasn't just interested in making a powerful being. He wanted the ultimate control. The cherry on top of his diabolical sundae was supposed to be a little something he liked to call the "subliminal codephrase." Just a simple phrase, but one that would turn the boy into Luthor's personal attack dog. Imagine having that kind of power: a living weapon that could take down Superman with just a word. It was the kind of thing that made Luthor want to do an evil laugh.

But then—plot twist! The Justice League, in all their righteous glory, had to crash the party. Somehow, they'd gotten wind of Luthor's plans and swooped in like the world's most annoying party crashers. Superman, Batman, the Flash, and Wonder Woman had busted into his facility, freed the boy, and poof!—months of work down the drain in less time than it takes to microwave popcorn.

Now, all Luthor had left was a bunch of data and a bad case of what-could-have-been. He didn't even know who the boy was or where he came from. The mystery of the kid's origins was like a puzzle missing half the pieces, and it bugged Luthor almost as much as losing his chance to control him.

But if there was one thing Lex Luthor was good at, it was playing the long game. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in that classic villain pose. Project Chimera was a bust, sure. But this was just a minor setback. There'd be other projects, other chances to create the ultimate weapon. The Justice League might've won this round, but Luthor knew the game was far from over.

For now, he'd regroup, study the data, and bide his time. The world didn't know it yet, but Lex Luthor wasn't the kind of guy who accepted defeat. He was the kind of guy who thrived on challenges, who turned obstacles into stepping stones. And one day, when the time was right, he'd show the world—and the Justice League—just what Lex Luthor was capable of. And trust him, it was going to be big.

—

Diana stepped out of the Zeta Tube and into the Watchtower, her boots clicking on the polished floor. After her intense Amazonian family drama, the cool, techie vibe of the space station felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air. Here, it was all straightforward—stop the bad guys, save the day, maybe grab a cup of coffee. No political minefields or sibling rivalry.

She was barely two steps in when a red blur zipped past her, then screeched to a halt right in front of her. Enter: the Flash, always moving at the speed of light, both physically and verbally.

"Diana! You're back!" Barry Allen grinned, his enthusiasm practically crackling in the air. "So, how was the whole Amazon family reunion thing? Lots of heartfelt talks and ancient grudges?"

Diana managed a small smile. Barry had this way of making even the most exhausting day seem a little brighter. "Something like that. What's happening here?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," Barry said, waving his hand like he was swatting away a mosquito. "A couple of alien invaders plotting world domination, Batman doing his best Dracula impression in the dark corner—just another Tuesday in superhero land." He waggled his eyebrows. "But here's the kicker: guess what our boy Harry is up to?"

Diana tilted her head, curiosity piqued. The last time she saw Harry, he was supposed to be recovering from his latest ordeal. "Hopefully something restful?"

Flash leaned in like he was about to drop the juiciest secret ever. "He's binge-watching some 80s sitcom with J'onn's niece, Megan."

Diana blinked, momentarily thrown. "He's what?"

"Yep, you heard me right. It's called Hello, Megan!" Barry's grin widened. "Apparently, it was all the rage back in the day. Harry and Megan are cozied up in front of the screen, and she's giving him the full retro experience. I think J'onn's a little worried she's corrupting the kid's taste in TV, but hey, who can resist some good, cheesy nostalgia?"

Diana couldn't help but laugh. The image of Harry—who had seen more than his fair share of life's darker side—sitting there, getting schooled in 80s teen drama by a Martian's niece, was as heartwarming as it was unexpected. Honestly, it was probably just what he needed: a slice of normal in the middle of his not-so-normal life.

"Thanks, Barry," Diana said, her smile now genuine and a little wider. "I think I'll go see for myself."

"Tell Harry I said hi!" Flash called out as he zipped away, likely off to raid the snack stash or finish a dozen tasks before anyone else could blink.

As Diana made her way to the rec room, she felt a bit lighter. Sure, there were big battles ahead, and the universe was always on the brink of some crisis or another. But right now, the idea of Harry finding some joy in an old sitcom—of all things—felt like a small but significant win. And in the grand scheme of superhero life, those were the moments that really mattered.

—

We'd just wrapped up our marathon of Hello Megan!—all 22 episodes of it. To say my brain felt like it had been stuffed with 80s sitcom fluff might be an understatement. Megan, my Martian friend, was practically vibrating with excitement as we finished, and I was sprawled out on the couch, feeling like I'd just run a mental marathon.

"So, Megan Wheeler," I said, rubbing my eyes, "is she always this perfect? Cheerleader, straight-A student, cookie-baker extraordinaire?"

"—and all with a side of heroic adventures!" Megan chimed in, clearly still buzzing from the binge. "Episode 17, where Megan tried to bake one giant cookie instead of a batch? Classic! And the school frog episode? Absolute gold."

"Seriously," I agreed. "Megan's balancing act between babysitting a frog and preparing for the school show? That's sitcom gold. And Conner Manley! The guy's living in his own world, totally missing Megan's obvious crush until the very end."

Before Megan could launch into another enthusiastic rant, the door slid open, and Diana walked in, her presence practically filling the room with a regal air. She glanced at us, taking in the scene of snack wrappers and soda cans strewn around.

"Harry," she greeted, her voice warm but with an edge of curiosity. "Megan. What's the occasion?"

I looked up, trying to hide my embarrassment. "We just finished watching Hello Megan!—all 22 episodes. Megan's been showing me the ropes of 80s sitcoms."

Diana raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "All 22 episodes? Impressive. Did you survive the nostalgia trip?"

"Barely," I said with a grin. "Turns out, watching Megan Wheeler's epic cheerleading adventures is way more entertaining than I thought. I'm now a big fan of giant cookies and clueless love interests."

Diana sat down, clearly interested. "And what did you think of Megan's world? Did you have a favorite episode or character?"

"Definitely the giant cookie episode," I said, recalling the chaos. "It was hilarious and kind of brilliant. And Conner's obliviousness to Megan's crush? Totally classic. But I have to say, Rita Lee is my favorite. She's the perfect mix of smart and grounded."

Megan nodded enthusiastically. "Rita's the best! And that episode with Grammy Jones's cookie recipe? Totally a highlight."

Diana chuckled, her eyes softening. "Sounds like you've had a good time. Sometimes, diving into something light-hearted is just what you need."

"Absolutely," I said, stretching. "Though I'm definitely ready for a break from the theme song—it's been stuck in my head all day."

Diana laughed, a sound that made the room feel a bit warmer. "It's catchy, isn't it? But don't worry, we'll find something else to keep us entertained soon enough."

As Diana settled in, I felt a little more at ease. Sure, I was still figuring out my place in this superhero-packed world, but moments like these—just hanging out, talking about a goofy TV show—made everything feel a bit more normal. And sometimes, normal was exactly what I needed.

—

Megan and I were deep in the "Can Megan Wheeler's oversized cookie disaster beat Conner Manley's cluelessness?" debate when Batman's entrance cut through the room like a dramatic thunderclap. He walked in with that trademark cape-swoosh and a look that said, "I'm here to be serious. Try not to mess it up."

"Time for the assessment, Harry," Batman intoned, his voice as gravelly as a cat in a blender. It wasn't a question—it was a command, and let's be honest, it was hard to ignore a guy who looked like he stepped out of a noir film.

I shot a look at Megan and Diana, who both seemed to get the memo instantly. Megan's eyes widened like she'd just been asked to bake a giant cookie for the entire Justice League, and Diana looked like she was about to give me one of those epic pep talks.

"Power assessment?" Megan asked, leaning forward with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for spoilers about her favorite show.

"Yep," I replied, shrugging. "It's like a superhero version of a fitness test, but with fewer sweat stains and more chances of blowing things up."

Batman didn't even flinch. "We'll be testing the range and control of your abilities. Understanding your powers is crucial."

"Oh, great," I said, rolling my eyes. "Just what I always wanted—more ways to embarrass myself in front of a guy who thinks a bat costume is practical."

Diana stood up, giving me a smile that was probably meant to be encouraging but felt more like a pre-game huddle. "You've got this, Harry. It's just about figuring out what you can do."

"And not causing a total disaster," I added, following Batman out of the room. "Because, you know, I'm really good at that."

Batman's face remained as unreadable as ever, but I could have sworn there was a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Let's just get this over with."

As we walked through the corridors of the Watchtower, I couldn't help but feel like a kid heading to the principal's office, except this principal could bench press a car and had a thing for stealthy entrances. 

"Here's to not blowing up anything," I muttered under my breath. Batman didn't answer, but I could feel the weight of his silent judgment. 

Guess that's how it goes when you're about to have your powers scrutinized by the Dark Knight. Here's hoping I survive with my ego—and the Watchtower—intact.

—

The first test was a strength test. I stood in front of this hulking hydraulic weight machine, which Batman had apparently borrowed from a sci-fi movie set. It looked like a cross between a medieval torture device and a really angry robot.

"Alright, Harry," Batman said, like he was about to give a lecture on quantum mechanics. "Time to see how strong you really are."

I glanced at the machine, then at Batman, who was giving me his "serious and slightly intimidating" look. Megan and Diana were hanging back, looking like they were waiting for a magic trick to go horribly wrong.

"Ready?" Batman asked, his voice as deadpan as ever. 

"Yeah, sure. Let's do this," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. I had this sinking feeling that my superpowers were about to become public knowledge.

I approached the machine, which had more levers and dials than a space shuttle. I took a deep breath, placed my hands on the handles, and braced myself. 

"Here goes nothing," I muttered, feeling like I was about to lift the entire weight of the world—or at least, a small moon.

I started lifting, and immediately, the gauges on the machine began to spin like the wheel of fortune on a game show. The weight felt ridiculously light, like I was picking up a pile of feathers instead of a truckload of bricks. I could almost hear the machine groaning in protest.

Batman's eyes widened ever so slightly, which is basically his version of a jaw-drop. Megan's mouth hung open in surprise, and Diana looked on with a mix of pride and amusement.

"Alright, let's see how you handle the maximum setting," Batman said, not looking entirely pleased but not totally disappointed either. 

The machine made noises that sounded like it was trying to have a nervous breakdown as the weights were adjusted. It looked like it was gearing up to test the strength of someone who could bench-press a battleship.

I gripped the handles again, and the weight felt just as light. I wasn't even breaking a sweat, which was probably not normal for anyone else. I had this weird feeling like I was cheating, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on why.

Diana gave me a reassuring smile. "Looks like you're stronger than we expected."

"Yeah, guess so," I said, trying to play it cool. "But who needs to enter a weightlifting competition when you can just move buildings around, right?"

Batman scribbled some notes, his expression as unreadable as ever. "We'll need to do more tests to get a complete picture. But you're definitely not lacking in the strength department."

I let go of the handles, and the machine emitted a relieved sigh, like it had just been given a long-awaited vacation. I wiped a nonexistent bead of sweat from my brow and looked around at everyone. Megan looked like she was about to ask a million questions, and Diana was giving me a look that was somewhere between impressed and mildly amused.

As we moved on to the next test, I had this nagging feeling that my strength was just the beginning. There were more tests to come, and I had a sneaking suspicion they'd reveal a lot more about me than I was ready to handle. Buckle up, Harry, because this was just the start of what promised to be a very wild ride.

—

The Sahara Desert wasn't exactly my idea of a fun vacation spot, but when Batman says "testing flight," you don't ask questions. You just hop through a Zeta Tube and end up in the middle of the world's largest sandbox.

I turned to Wonder Woman, who was floating next to me with that effortless grace that made it look like she had wings sewn into her boots. "Ready for this?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with a mix of challenge and encouragement.

"You bet," I said, trying to contain my excitement. Ever since my first broomstick ride, I'd had a natural knack for flying. But this? This was about to go full superhero mode.

With a mental push, I leapt into the air. Instinct kicked in like it always did when I was on a broom, but this time it was off-the-charts exhilarating. I felt a burst of heat and, whoosh—flames erupted from my back, forming wings of fire. It wasn't until Diana's surprised shout cut through the air that I realized just how epic this was.

"Harry, you've got flaming wings!" she called out, clearly impressed. I tried to focus on the flight, but it was hard not to get distracted by the sheer awesomeness of my new look.

"Not sure if this is a good thing or just an awesome side effect," I shouted back, grinning like I'd just won the lottery. The feeling of flying was pure magic—freedom, exhilaration, and a rush that made me feel like I could conquer the world.

The Sahara stretched out below like a gigantic golden rug, and the speed I was hitting was absolutely mind-blowing. It felt like I could fly forever. Diana stayed effortlessly by my side, her flight smooth and controlled.

As we soared, Diana's gaze grew serious. "Harry, your skin is holding up remarkably well. There's no sign of burning, even with the intense speeds and the flames. It looks like the Phoenix Tears and Basilisk Venom are really kicking in."

"Yeah, I guess that's one way to put it," I said, focusing on keeping my flight steady. The combination of Phoenix Tears and Basilisk Venom was clearly doing its thing. Batman and Diana had speculated that Luthorcorp's DNA tinkering had stirred these dormant powers.

Diana, ever the expert, flew next to me, her eyes full of thought. "The combination of your magic, my DNA, and these other factors is creating something extraordinary. Those fiery wings aren't just for show—they're a manifestation of raw power. I've never seen anything like it."

I took a moment to soak it all in—the sprawling desert below, the sun casting long shadows, and the pure thrill of the flight. "Thanks, Diana. This is amazing. It feels like I'm finally tapping into my full potential."

Then, I decided to really push it. I performed a series of daring maneuvers: sharp turns, sudden climbs, and a thrilling dive toward the dunes. Each move was met with a burst of speed and a dazzling display of fire. It was like I was testing the limits of what was possible.

Diana kept up effortlessly, her focus never wavering. "Your control is impressive," she said, her voice cutting through the wind. "The Phoenix Tears are boosting your speed to near light speed levels, and the Basilisk Venom is giving you incredible durability. This combination is extraordinary."

As we began our descent back to where Batman and Megan were waiting, I landed with a smooth touch, my fiery wings flickering out as I touched down. Diana landed next to me, her face a mix of admiration and satisfaction.

"You've done exceptionally well, Harry," she said, her smile warm. "You've passed the flight test with flying colors."

Batman, ever the stoic observer, approached with his usual no-nonsense demeanor. "The data confirms your capabilities. Your flight skills are off the charts, and your durability is impressive. Next, we'll be testing your endurance. But for now, it's clear you've got some serious flying chops."

I nodded, feeling a rush of accomplishment. If this was just the beginning, I couldn't wait to see what other powers were in store.

—

As we zoomed back to the Watchtower via Zeta Tube—because apparently, the universe loves making grand entrances—Wonder Woman and I landed in the Watchtower's docking bay. The place was buzzing with the usual superhero hustle and bustle, and I was still riding high from my flight test. I felt like I had wings even when I wasn't flying.

Superman and Martian Manhunter were waiting for us, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. It was like they knew something epic had just gone down and were eager to hear all about it.

Megan, who had been buzzing with excitement ever since our flight test, practically bounced over to them. "Uncle J'onn! Superman! You will not believe the stuff Harry just did! The flight test was amazing!"

Superman raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Really? Do tell."

Megan launched into an enthusiastic recount. "Harry had these incredible wings of fire! They were blazing and—"

"Fiery wings?" Martian Manhunter interrupted, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Interesting."

"Yeah, and his flight was off the charts!" Megan continued, not missing a beat. "He was zooming around like he had rockets in his boots. Diana had to keep up, and let me tell you, it was a challenge!"

Superman's expression turned from curiosity to outright interest. "Sounds like he's got some impressive abilities."

"Impressive doesn't quite cover it," Megan said, practically vibrating with excitement. "Harry's durability is through the roof. He's got some serious strength and speed too. It's like he's a walking, flying powerhouse!"

I couldn't help but grin at the enthusiasm. "Yep, apparently I've got a bit of everything going on. Feels like I'm in a superhero movie, only without the script."

Superman chuckled. "Well, you're certainly fitting in with the team. How did the tests go overall?"

I gave him a thumbs up. "So far, so good. The strength test was a blast, and the flight? Let's just say I could get used to this whole soaring-through-the-sky thing. It's like being a bird, but way cooler."

Martian Manhunter nodded, still looking contemplative. "And the theories on your abilities? Any new insights?"

Wonder Woman, who had joined the conversation, jumped in. "Based on our observations, it seems Harry's Phoenix Tears and Basilisk Venom have amplified his powers significantly. His flight capabilities and durability are extraordinary, even beyond what we initially anticipated."

Superman's gaze shifted to me, impressed. "That's quite the power set you've got there, Harry. You're going to be a valuable asset to the team."

"Well, I'm just trying not to mess things up," I said with a chuckle. "But I appreciate the confidence."

As we all headed towards the main operations room, the conversation continued, with Megan filling in the details and everyone mulling over the implications of my new abilities. With each step, I felt more like I was finding my place among these legendary heroes. If this was just the beginning, I was definitely ready for whatever came next.

---

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