Superman Returns Xenia ✨ ⏰

The impact tore her loose. The cold shock ate the last of the crystal's glow. She sank, spinning, limbs gone soft and human again.

She looked up. God, he was beautiful. That ridiculous jaw. Those sad, blue eyes.

She wanted Superman to notice her. He found her on the LexCorp roof, sitting on the edge of a shattered water tower, filing her nails with a piece of rebar.

She picked up the note again.

For one perfect, terrible second, Xenia Onatopp looked at him—this alien boy scout with blood on his lip and tears freezing on his cheeks—and she believed him.

She squeezed a chunk of hull plating. It crumpled like wet paper.

"Clark," she murmured, tasting the name. "Well, darling. Let's see if you're lying." superman returns xenia

"You asked what happens when I break. Answer: I don't. But I heal. And so can you. — Clark"

And then—a hand. Warm. Unbreakable.

First, a casino heist where she walked through the vault door—not around it, through it. Then a penthouse party where she threw a grand piano off the balcony just to hear the Doppler shift of its scream. Then the helicopters. She plucked them out of the sky like rotten fruit. The impact tore her loose

She moved faster than he expected—Kryptonian speed, wrong and sickly green. Her fist connected with his ribs. He staggered. Not because it hurt. Because it shouldn't have moved him at all.

"You're not fighting for truth and justice right now," she whispered, grabbing his cape and pulling him close. Her thighs—famous, deadly—locked around his waist. The old move. The killing squeeze. But now powered by alien poison and sheer, psychotic joy. "You're fighting for breath ."

Outside, the sun was rising over Metropolis. And somewhere up there, she knew, he was listening. She looked up

But belief was never her addiction.