maximoffthereal

[maximoffthereal]

The Infinity's Heir

Part Three: Bringer of Hope

Kryptonian female reader x Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

The Last Day Continues

After spending a few hours at the beach, the Zar family decided it was time to move on.

Staz-Zar had always carried a certain pride when it came to her family. Her ancestors stood at the forefront of the universe—creators of the Infinity Stones, bringers of life, love, and power. They were primordial beings who gave the cosmos structure, balance, and meaning.

So it was only fair that she visit their ancestral temple: the Hall of House Zar.

The Hall stood at the highest point in the city, towering above the skyline like a divine monument. From the outside, it resembled the ancient temples of Earth—crafted from pristine white stone, etched with glowing veins of gold kryptonite. It was beautiful. Regal. Eternal.

Massive statues of her ancestors flanked the temple entrance. They stood tall and serene, casting long shadows over the city below. They gave the people hope. In turn, the people revered them. Even by Kryptonian standards, Staz-Zar was royalty—and the Hall of House Zar was sacred ground. A place of reverence, remembrance, and peace.

These were her people. And this was her last day with them.

It seemed only fitting that she come here—this place that had shaped her family, her people, and herself. A place that taught love and kindness, that kept the stories of the past alive.

She would try her hardest to live in the image her ancestors had created for her.

Together, she and her parents crossed the temple threshold. Inside, the ceilings arched high above their heads. The grand hall branched off in three directions.

To the left—a quiet room for prayer and meditation.

To the right—a corridor lined with statues and memorials, each dedicated to a different ancestor.

And at the center—an empty exhibit.

Once, the Infinity Stones had rested there. One by one, the Zar family had crafted them, born from cosmic forces and forged with meticulous care. Each stone created with the purpose of bringing balance. Of giving one the power to do more—be more.

Staz-Zar was meant to be that person.

The one who would wield them.

The one who would bring balance to the multiverse.

That thought made her glance away—toward the corridor of her ancestors. She wanted to see them again before the day ended.

With her hands held tightly in her parents’—Aziel on one side, Preval on the other—Staz-Zar walked the hall in silence. Respectful. Reverent.

Though Preval was not of the Zar bloodline, she had been welcomed in, and that was enough.

They stopped at each statue, reading the inscriptions carved beneath them. Kryptonians lived long lives—hundreds of thousands, even millions of years. And yet, there weren’t many statues in the hall. The House of Zar lived even longer. And yet there were only five who had come before her.

Staz-Zar was the sixth of her lineage.

And six, it seemed, was a destined number.

“The one born the number of the stones is the one destined to rule over them.”

The Zar family had never been able to tell who the prophecy referred to. It had spanned countless generations. The crafting of each Infinity Stone took eons—and no one knew how many there would come to be.

For all the power the House of Zar held—there was one thing they could never control.

Fate.

————————

The next activity was visiting a krystal shop (haha, get it?).

Staz-Zar was a regular here. So much so that the kind, older shopkeeper affectionately called her "Ceyu" (pronounced Sea-Yu), which meant something akin to "little explorer" in Earth terms.

Staz-Zar loved the rocks. She was fascinated by geology. Fascinated that her planet could be made up of so many different kinds of minerals. That life was sourced through them. Sustained by them. The rocks on Krypton glowed—not just from their high radiation content (which was considerable), but because that’s simply how it was. All of the rocks glowed. Whether in the dark or even in the light. Some glowed stronger than others. But for 24 hours in the day cycle, they glowed.

She would use them as nightlights.

The car pulled up to the parking slot just in front of the krystal store. The shop was small. Intimate. All kinds of smells and vapors wafted through the air. Preval had never been, and frankly, she seemed a little terrified walking in. Staz-Zar and her father shared a glance, chuckling to themselves before Preval shot them a halfhearted glare.

Lerian-Bax, the old lady at the front, sat as if she'd known to expect her little explorer.

"Ceyu. You're late," she said with a click of her tongue.

Preval furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Staz-Zar. "Did you call ahead?" she asked, confused.

Staz-Zar was equally baffled. "No?"

Lerian-Bax just laughed knowingly.

"No one called ahead, Your Highness. The cosmos told me today was the day. In fact, today is a big day, which is why you—"

She pointed at Staz-Zar, stepping out from behind the counter to face her directly.

"—are allowed to pick five rocks to take with you on your journey, Ceyu."

Staz-Zar’s eyes sparkled. There were crystals Lerian-Bax had previously told her she couldn’t have—"not the right time," she'd say. But something told her this was the right time. She scurried past her mother and father, searching for the crystals she had carefully hidden away in fear another customer might find and purchase them.

The first one she found was a small, jagged crystal, as green as Earth’s toxic waste. Here, it was called Kryptonite. It glowed in an unsettling way, yet… she couldn’t stay away.

It called to her.

Staz-Zar hurried to the spot where she had hidden it beneath a crystal almost as large as she was. As she pulled it out, Lerian-Bax laughed, a full-bodied, joyous laugh, then looked at Staz-Zar knowingly.

"You know, before your little venture out to the blue sun—that would've harmed you on Earth?"

Aziel immediately stepped in front of his wife and daughter protectively.

"How do you know about that? No one knows about that!" Aziel said darkly, treating her as a possible threat.

Lerian-Bax hummed, an entertained glint in her eye.

"I know many things, my lordship. Your mother never told you, did she? I suspected as much when the young one walked in here a few years ago. But now I know for sure—Frel-Zar never told you."

Aziel furrowed his brow, still shielding his family.

"My mother lived a long, full life. She created the last Infinity Stone. I’m sure she had her reasons not to tell me everything."

Lerian-Bax laughed again and shook her head kindly.

"Frel-Zar was kind, and funny. In fact, Staz-Zar here reminds me so much of her. Your mother explored the cosmos. And Ceyu here will do the same."

"That doesn’t explain anything," Aziel insisted. "How did you know my mother?"

"She was my sister."

Aziel stepped back, stunned.

"I would know if I had an aunt. Especially if she lived in this city. You would be a Zar."

"No, I wouldn’t. I married a kind man. He died millennia before your mother. I took his name to honor him," Lerian-Bax said with a sigh.

"That doesn’t explain why I don’t know you," Aziel pressed again, calmer now.

Lerian-Bax smiled at him like he was a child.

"There are many things I know. To craft the Stones, one had to give up half their life essence. Your mother needed help creating the last one before you were born. So I helped…"

She looked around the shop with a sigh.

"Her Stone—the Soul Stone—needed a protector. If anyone sought it out before its time, well... I’m sure you understand. I was that protector. Until a strange red man in a cloak dismissed me."

She chuckled to herself, like there was more to that story.

"I’ve been gone a long time, Aziel-Zar. She named you after my husband—Aziel-Bax." Her voice trembled slightly. "I knew it was time to return home when the man with the red skull came... though I never imagined this much time had passed."

Aziel nodded, his expression heavy with emotion.

“That still doesn’t explain why I never heard of you.”

Lerian-Bax cleared her throat.

“The Soul Stone’s existence was known, yes. But its location couldn’t be. Nor the sacrifice it required. Everything had to be kept confidential. No risk.”

She looked at Staz-Zar with soft pride.

“I didn’t expect your mother to tell you. But I’m grateful I got to meet you. And know our Ceyu.”

Lerian-Bax approached the family, eyes lit with pride.

“You have done the Zar name proud.” She turned to Staz-Zar. “And I’m sure you will continue to do so, child.”

Staz-Zar, trained in royal composure, couldn’t stop a few tears from slipping down her cheeks. So many sacrifices were made—and would still be made—for these stones.

She had just found her great-aunt, only to know she would lose her soon.

She quickly turned away to wipe her tears.

Preval stood silent but understanding, while Aziel stepped forward and hugged Lerian. Now wasn’t the time for formalities. They all knew tonight would be their last.

“We’re having dinner tonight. Join us?” Preval asked, her voice soft. It might be too late to undo her past cruelty—but she would try.

-------

After that emotional turn of events and picking out her favourite krystals, Staz-Zar and her family headed to the Market of Stories. Lerian-Bax would join them for dinner later.

Staz-Zar felt the pressure building. She could only bring two physical books. How could she choose? Cultural texts or childhood comfort?

Just two. That was all she could take. And she supposed she no longer had time to be a child—not when the weight of the cosmos rested on her premature shoulders.

As they entered the large structure at the heart of the market—tall, welcoming, and built from something resembling Earth wood—Staz-Zar softly called her mother’s name. She knew Preval would be the wisest. Her father would push her to take what she loved. Her mother, though? Her mother knew what was necessary.

"Mother?" she whispered, still on edge at the thought of bothering her.

Her heart pounded. Her mother was her political mentor; her father, her military one. Somehow, everything with her mother had always been harder.

She was still scared of saying the wrong thing. Scared of her mother turning on her again. But she wanted—needed—to remember her mother as someone capable of kindness.

Preval looked down at her daughter. Standing at 5’10" in human terms, she towered over her. One day, Staz-Zar would match her height. But for now, she was a scared child looking up, trying to hide it.

Preval saw through the mask. She always had. She taught her daughter how to wear it, but she also knew exactly what Staz-Zar felt. And it broke her—seeing her daughter afraid to ask a question. She wished she could take it all back. She realized too late that the way she was raised wasn’t the way she should’ve raised her child.

So she smiled—gently, sincerely.

Staz-Zar saw a flicker of sadness in her mother’s eyes. It disappeared quickly, replaced by that rare soft smile. And so, she asked.

"Mother… which two books do you think I should take? I don’t know how to decide."

Preval pondered as they walked deeper into the towering structure filled with millions of books. This place held the knowledge of the cosmos—of Krypton, of everything.

The Zar family paused at the hollow center, peering down at the many levels of literature.

Aziel listened quietly, taking in the view.

Then Preval spoke.

"Take two books you want in physical form, Ana. The rest—we’ll upload them to your pod. You’ll be able to access them anytime."

Staz-Zar exhaled. This weight, at least, she wouldn’t have to carry.

So she chose.

The first: a fictional story of Kal-El and Kara Zor-El. A boy and a girl, different from their peers, sent to Earth under a yellow sun. Superheroes. A childish tale born of prophecy—but it gave her hope. She wanted to give that to others, too.

The second: the story of Rao, the first Kryptonian. The first Zar. The universe’s creator, who burned brighter than the sun. She wanted to do her family justice. Carry that legacy to Earth. Maybe, if she held that story close, she wouldn’t feel so alone.

With that, the Zars were done.

They made their way back to the penthouse for their final night.

And even though it was her last day on Krypton—her last with her family and people—Staz-Zar couldn’t help but think:

This was one of the best days she had ever had.

[maximoffthereal]

The Infinity's Heir

Part Two: The End of Beginning

Kryptonian female reader x Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Staz-Zar woke to the sound of her ship’s engine powering down.

Once again, she had touched down on Krypton—her home. Slowly, she peeled away the navy-blue sheets clinging to her body, damp with sweat and radiation. Her muscles ached. Her mind felt like it was floating somewhere between the stars and the void. Two weeks at the core of a dying supermassive sun—absorbing its radiation, draining it of life—had taken more than just energy. It had taken something from her.

You’d think she would feel invincible. And she did. But she was twelve. And the universe had already decided that she was its last hope.

Her mother was merciless. Her father, too merciful. The balance between them had left no room for her pain.

She stepped off the ship as quickly as her body would allow and disappeared into her room without a word. She didn’t know where to start. The trauma clung to her skin like the heat of the sun she had just consumed. It wasn’t just the sacrifice. It was what her own parents had done to her to make her ready for it.

She understood the stakes. The universe needed saving. She needed to be strong. But what they had done in the name of that strength? It was cruelty. The kind that left scars deeper than flesh. The kind that burned beneath the skin forever. The radiation was still inside her, singing in her veins like an eternal scream. And it would never go away.

⸻

Three Weeks Later — The End Begins

After that conversation with her father on the rooftop, Staz-Zar could breathe again. But the air was thin. Hollow. Her father—Aziel—had always been her foundation. Her constant. But ever since she’d returned from her so-called “mission,” he had become a ghost in his own home. Distant. Unreachable. Maybe the guilt was too much. Maybe even he couldn’t look at what he had allowed.

He was a good man. A fair leader. He always said he did what needed to be done. And that much, at least, was true.

Later that night, Staz-Zar drifted toward the balcony pool. The water had always called to her. It used to be her escape. But now, even that felt foreign. She sat at the edge, staring at the still surface, watching the way it shimmered in the soft light. Finally, she slid her legs in. The water lapped at her skin like it remembered her.

She had loved swimming. It was her favorite thing. But ever since the void of space nearly choked her to death while her body refused to let her die—she couldn’t do it. The thought of being submerged again, of her lungs begging for air they would never get—it paralyzed her. She wouldn’t drown. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t suffer.

Time blurred. She didn’t know how long she sat there before the sky above faded into night. Krypton always looked so still after dark—like it floated between worlds. A planet suspended between life and death. A reality all its own.

Billions of Kryptonians lived here. But they were already ghosts in her eyes. She knew what was coming. Her people were fated to die. They didn’t know it. But she did. And the knowledge weighed on her chest like gravity.

She looked up into the sky, empty and vast. Her thoughts spun with everything she carried: the collapse of her realm, the burden of her lineage, the inevitability of goodbye. She would have to leave it all—her home, her family, her people—to protect a universe of strangers.

And she mourned them like they were already gone.

Her tears came silently. She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them even though they were soaked. Her heart was breaking for a world that was still alive—but only for a little longer.

The House of Zar ruled this realm. They ruled every realm. The architects of the Infinity Stones. The bloodline destined to wield the universe’s ultimate power. Among them, one was foretold to rise. To restore what had been lost. To become the Ruler of the Multiverse.

Their name lived only in whispers. Myths. Legends. Stories people had stopped believing.

But time was running out.

Could Staz-Zar bring balance?

She didn’t know. But despite everything, she would try.

—————————-

Two Days Later. The Fall Begins

Staz-Zar knew today would be her last in this realm. A feeling—perhaps a premonition.

She had woken clutching her chest in pain, like something inside her was collapsing inward.

It was just past eight in the morning when she stirred. The red sun filtered harshly through her windows, casting a crimson glow around her bed. Something about it felt wrong. Gone was the warmth, the intimacy. In its place was a cruel glare, as if daring her to face it.

The pain in her heart was the worst she had ever felt—perhaps the worst she would ever feel.

She could hear the sun now, with her newly amplified senses. And it sounded like a billion voices crying out.

She rose quickly. Hurried.

If today was her last, she would make it count.

Staz-Zar moved through the long, jagged, and frightfully warm hallways of her childhood penthouse, searching for her father. For her mother. She would make this a good day. She needed to.

Her bare feet slapped against the cold stone floor, panic building with every step. Each breath echoed. Urgency overtook her.

She found them in the dining room, speaking in hushed whispers. They stopped as soon as she entered. Even her mother had the decency to look… pitiful.

“Hello, dear. Sit down. Let’s have breakfast,” her mother said—softly. Softer than she ever had before.

“Is this it?” Staz-Zar thought. “Does my mother want me to remember her in a kind light? Or does she actually care?”

Did it matter? Sincerity was sincerity. Preval was trying. That was all that mattered.

So she sat, gently, between them. An assortment of her favorite foods had been laid out before her. Yet all she could feel was pain.

And all she could hear was the sun.

Crying. Begging for more time.

In that moment, she realized the red sun was the only thing in the universe she’d ever truly understood.

“Not hungry, Ana?” her father, Aziel, asked gently, though his face was marred by a grimace—something foreign to his usually calm and kind features.

Staz-Zar furrowed her brow.

“Today will be the last,” she said softly. “You know it as well as I do, Father.”

Preval spoke next, her tone—at least for her—gentle.

“Yes. So we will enjoy today together. And tonight, you will leave… before the sun rises again.”

“The sun will rise again?” Staz-Zar asked.

Her mother’s face tensed at the question, her grimace matching Aziel’s.

“It will not rise the way it typically does, Ana.”

It was the first time her mother had used that nickname. And it sent a wave of panic through her. But she held it in. She had to. She always had to.

She looked down at the food spread out before her, trying to find something—anything—she could stomach.

Maybe at dinner, she thought. But not now.

So she picked at some simple Kryptonian bread.

It was filling. Enough to get her through today.

“What will we be doing?” she asked, still pulling at the bread, not daring to meet either of their eyes.

Her father answered, again with gentle warmth.

“Well… we thought we’d go down to the beach. Maybe visit your favorite store—the one with all the crystals. Then we could go to the market with the books… and you could take some with you.”

With you.

They didn’t say the words, but she knew what they meant.

Take them with you —on the ship.

To Earth.

Take the myths. The history. The culture of her people.

Take what pieces she could carry of a world that would soon cease to be.

She could choose what stories would survive.

That thought made her sick.

She put down the bread and looked at them both.

“That sounds great,” she said, voice strained but steady.

They all deserved a day.

——————————-

Staz-Zar had gotten ready faster than she had for her twelfth birthday. She wanted to experience the most she could with the little time she had left—and she regretted not doing more in the month since she’d returned from her… endeavour .

But she wasn’t to blame for that.

She couldn’t blame herself for that.

She threw on a pair of white shorts and a loose t-shirt she’d gotten from a random vendor on a trip with her parents the year prior. It had been a good trip, and her mother had been bearable. Maybe that shirt was good luck, even if it was three sizes too big. She thought maybe she could bring it with her to Earth.

She met her parents at the elevator, slipping her hand into her father’s as it descended. Her mother stood tall as always, but there was an air of casualness to her today—something unfamiliar.

Something was different.

Maybe she was just as scared as Staz-Zar was.

They entered their family vehicle, Aziel driving with Preval beside him, and Staz-Zar in the backseat. And for a moment, they looked like a proper family.

They felt like one too.

Preval had always loved Aziel—even if it wasn’t outwardly shown. And she loved her daughter. And today, she decided—Staz-Zar would know.

Their city was surrounded by ocean. Its water calm and never violent, like its people. The beach was glowing under the red sun, inviting despite the torment burning in the sky.

They funneled out of the car slowly, searching the sand for a spot to lounge—and found one right in front of them. All three of them set up a blanket and sat. Staz-Zar tried to focus on the gentle laps of the waves, not the weight pressing on her chest.

Aziel stood after a moment of silence, holding out his hand to her with a calm smile.

“Why don’t we go for a swim, Ana? You love to swim.”

For a moment, she choked. Panic welled up in her chest. The memory of suffocating—of floating in space, unable to breathe—still haunted her. But then she shook her head.

Not here. Not now.

I will not be afraid.

And so she got up with her father’s help—and in a rare show of unity, her mother joined them.

They spent time in the water. It was hard at first, but she eased into it. The fear slowly faded. Her body wouldn’t let her drown, and for now, she let herself believe that was enough. She silenced the thoughts with laughter, with splashes, with the warm touch of the water and the warmth of her family.

After a while, she made her way back to the blanket, while her mother and father laughed and talked in the shallows.

She looked around the beach, watching her people enjoy the day.

They didn’t know it would be their last.

And despite that—she was grateful.

Grateful to see her people happy.

Grateful to see her parents happy.

After a few moments, Preval made her way back to her. Staz-Zar turned to see her mother approaching, a small smile on her face.

She didn’t know whether to be comforted or terrified by that smile.

Preval sat beside her, quietly, looking out at the ocean. Then, gently, she placed a hand on Staz-Zar’s leg.

“Know that I love you, Ana. I’ve been cruel, unkind… rude to you. And I know that’s my deepest regret.” Preval’s voice was soft, her eyes glistening as she turned to face her daughter.

“I’ve been childish. Immature. I turned on you when you needed me most—when we… when we knew what you would become. When we were sure. I didn’t know how to cope, how to deal. And I hope one day you’ll forgive me. I hope one day you’ll understand. But I’ll understand if you don’t. Just… please know that I love you. Everything I’ve done has been so that you could survive.”

She spoke like she needed Staz-Zar to understand. Like it was all she had left to give.

And Staz-Zar did.

How was someone supposed to cope with their daughter carrying the fate of the universe—no, the multiverse —on her shoulders?

She knew her mother could have been better. Gentler. Kinder. But she also knew those things didn’t come easily to her. And maybe, one day, she could forgive her for the pain.

Because Staz-Zar knew, now more than ever, that she was loved.

And—for now—that was enough.

[maximoffthereal]

The Infinty’s Heir

Part One: The Beginning

Kryptonian female reader x Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

It was warm and humid. A red sun lit the planet with a glow that poets could only attempt to capture.

That kind of warmth—intimate and eternal—blanketed the land.

But tension had never been higher.

Staz-Zar belonged to the House of Zar. She had always known power. She had always tasted wealth.

But she also knew humility. Kindness. They were as intrinsic to her world as gravity.

She was royalty. The name Zar meant Power and Love.

Their rule began when the Big Bang struck—and would, in some form, survive the collapse of the universe and its rebirth.

There is an end in every beginning, and a beginning in every end. That was true.

“Princess of the Multiverse,” her friends would joke.

She fucking hated that title.

But she was a prophecy child, and only she and her parents knew what that meant.

It meant she would lose everyone she ever loved.

It meant her realm would cease to exist.

It meant she would traverse to a distant planet.

It meant she would have to relearn who she was—and why she was even alive.

It meant she would mourn her family, her friends, her entire race.

Every year. Every day.

Every single second.

For the rest of eternity.

It meant she was alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

And no one would ever know her realm.

No one would ever understand what she had lost.

(Distantly, a Mad Titan laughed.)

———————————-

Staz-Zar woke up sweating, every inch of her body stuck to her blanket as she threw it off. Her heart raced, her mind reeling. She wasn’t unaccustomed to the feeling. Panic surged through her veins, anxiety flooding her thoughts. It wasn’t uncommon. No one at the age of twelve should understand the weight of the universe resting in their hands.

She got up slowly, walking toward the blinds. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave her a perfect view of the city she would eventually see break. But she didn’t let that thought linger long enough to hurt. She couldn’t. Her room was grand. After all, she was a princess.

She opened her door, hand pausing at the handle for just a moment. Scared this might be the last time. That fate would catch up and deem it final. She sucked in a deep breath to calm her nerves. She wouldn’t let this knowledge taunt her. She wouldn’t let it create future regrets.

So, she walked and pushed past her doors, making sure to take in her environment as she had every day since the knowledge was bestowed upon her. She made sure to breathe in every scent as her feet hit the cold jade green tile.

She wandered down the long maze of hallways that made up her home. A large apartment, housing not just The House of Zar but its friends and comrades. Located in the heart of what you would call the “downtown” of the realm—Krypton. After wandering and taking it in, she entered the kitchen. It was silent today, unnervingly so. She knew that feeling. The foreboding, as though today might be final.

“You’re up early,” her father chuckled, sneaking up behind her as she looked over the city from the balcony.

“I haven’t been able to sleep much, Father,” she replied, her voice cracking softly. She was a child with too much to bear.

“I’m sorry, Ana…” He sighed, moving to stand next to her. Her father was a tall man, and she, a tall girl. She had inherited his brown hair and her mother’s green eyes. His strong jaw and her mother’s sharp cheekbones. She had her mother’s wit and her father’s kindness. She had his power and her mother’s cruelty.

He breathed deeply, strengthening his composure as he stood tall. “You know, Ana, that… If I could—this shouldn’t fall on a child. It was not fair to you.” He whispered softly, as if the sound of his own voice might break him. “I’m sorry for what we have done to you. I— I love you, Ana.” He spoke a little louder, meaning every word.

“Why do you call me that?” Staz-Zar looked at her father with tears brimming in her forest green eyes, confusion swirling inside her. “Why don’t you call me by the name you’ve burdened me with?” Her voice held a hint of malice—angry at the confusion, among other things.

Her father, Aziel, looked at her with pity. He understood. He allowed her to lash out. He was half of the reason she was so angry.

“The humans have a legend,” he began. “Of beings with wings that bring hope, peace, and justice. They are powerful and kind creatures, not to be crossed. All-knowing, and always choosing to do right. I chose this nickname for you, Ana, because I see that for you. I see who you will become when the time is right.”

He spoke quietly again, his voice soft yet strong at the same time.

“And what are they called? Ana?” she asked, more confused than angry. His kind words weren’t lost on her, but her confusion had only grown.

At this, Aziel chuckled deeply—a warm chuckle that had comforted her most of her life. Now, it only unsettled Staz-Zar. How could someone who had comforted her so also commit an atrocity toward her?

“They are called angels,” he said, his tone calm. “And one day, Staz-Zar, you will fly like one of them.” He said this as he walked calmly back into the penthouse, standing tall—statuesque, confident, clean, disciplined, like someone of royal blood.

Staz-Zar turned her face back toward the city and then up toward the sky. She could see it—the supernova, a system away, the event that had turned her into a freak even among her own people. She would never know peace. Her father was an idiot—kind, yes, but foolish. Wise, yes, but rash. Blinded by his love for her mother. Light blonde hair, piercing green eyes. She was the evil, non-stepmother of her royal tale.

——————-

3 weeks ago. Unknown system, approximately 1,000,000 km away from a Supermassive Blue Sun. House of Zar Space Shuttle Xurze

Staz-Zar woke up disoriented. Not from hypersleep—since the House of Zar ship didn’t need it—but because she had no clue where she was.

She looked out her window, facing a supermassive blue sun. Confused, she got up slowly, making her way out of her covers. Weren’t they supposed to be on Earth? she thought. Earth was supposed to be their destination—an integration long in the making. Staz-Zar wouldn’t be sent there without understanding Earth’s customs. She wouldn’t be sent there without the means to survive. She wouldn’t be sent there without becoming invulnerable.

While standing and looking at the blue sun, she heard the door open. A slow noise, almost like the sound of Darth Vader’s lightsaber from the movie Star Wars she once watched. It had a drawl that shocked her, louder than usual.

She looked back—her father stood there.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, regret in his eyes, though not yet earned.

“I am. Where are we, Father? I thought it was time for our yearly Earth trip. Has something gone wrong?” Her voice was unsure.

He cut Staz-Zar off quickly.

“No, Ana,” he sighed.

“We’re right where we’re meant to be.” He said it lowly, almost ashamed.

She looked around, even more confused.

“Why are we stopped at a supermassive blue moon, Father?” she asked quietly, almost afraid. His expression and stature unnerved her.

He continued to stare at her, unable to speak, before his hazel eyes drifted to the blue sun behind her.

She spoke quietly again, her gaze returning to the sun.

“It looks like it’s dying.”

“It is.”

She turned quickly to look at her father, fear in her eyes.

“Father—what effect does a blue sun have on us?” she asked. She knew a yellow sun gave her powers, and a red sun—well, a red sun made her as good as human. That was the sun she was born under.

“It makes you more powerful. Completely invulnerable. Nothing will hurt you. Nothing will harm you. No being can enter your mind or make you bleed. You will be stronger than anyone. Faster. Invincible.”

He spoke as though it would only affect her, as though something terrible was about to happen.

“Why are you only saying me? Wouldn’t it affect us all?”

He closed his eyes and took a breath, his resolve stiffening. He spoke as though she wasn’t his daughter, but someone who had to do something for the greater good.

“Your mother and I can’t risk taking anything from you, Ana. The blue sun works differently. You will go to its core. Your body will absorb all the radiation, and the star will die. But you, Ana, you will live. You will survive.”

“Won’t it hurt, Father? Won’t I burn?” Staz-Zar whispered, her fear growing.

“We don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Staz-Zar said quietly, afraid that if she moved or spoke too loudly, it might come sooner.

“Ana—this needs to be done. Under the yellow sun, you still have weaknesses. You’re susceptible to magic and to the very compound that makes up 80% of our realm. The universe cannot afford your weaknesses.”

Aziel spoke harshly, as though this were something nonnegotiable—not as a father speaking to his twelve-year-old daughter.

Staz-Zar collapsed slowly, as if the weight of the universe had forced her to the cold ground. And it had. She sat on her knees, looking at the sun she would soon diminish, the sun that would live in her for the rest of her life. Afraid, she wept silently, her back turned to her father as he slowly made his way toward her.

Then, the door slid open again. Louder. Harsher. The energy that came with it even crueler.

“Stand up,” her mother’s voice grated.

“Now is not the time for this nonsense,” she said again when Staz-Zar kept crying.

Preval was not kind, not funny, nor happy. She was rude and ignored Kryptonian customs. Her life had been hard, so she made others’ lives harder. Her daughter was no exception.

Her heels clattered hard on the ground, a sharp sound with every step. She grabbed Staz-Zar by the arm, yanking her up.

“You’re acting like a child.” She spat.

“I am a child,” Staz-Zar cried out.

“No. You are more. You are meant to rule this universe and the infinite universes around us. You are meant to save us all. You are no child. You are a soldier—a ruler.”

Preval spoke fast and coldly, the complete opposite of Staz-Zar’s father. Her grip on Staz-Zar’s arm tightened uncomfortably.

Preval had never laid a hand on Staz-Zar, never hit her, but she also never hugged her.

“ENOUGH! She is still a child and she is scared! Preval, unhand her at once!” Aziel shouted, frustration evident in his voice.

His love for his wife was rivaled only by his love for his daughter. But for some reason, Preval could not love their daughter. And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t love him either.

“She has a duty, child or not. Any rational being would crawl for a chance like this. To be truly invincible. She is pathetic,” Preval snapped, glaring at Aziel. She released Staz-Zar’s arm, as though it had burned her, before walking toward the door.

She stopped. Paused.

“Stop crying. You leave in ten.”

The door slid shut with a resounding snap.

———-

Unknown System. Supermassive Blue Sun. Air Lock 018

Staz-Zar stood—tiny and afraid. Her body would soon feel the crushing weight of a sun a billion times bigger than her own, and six billion times bigger than her soon-to-be home.

What would happen was unknown. All she knew was that she would become untouchable. No one would be able to hurt her again. Not physically, at least. But for some reason, even that thought didn’t bring comfort for what was to come.

Because she didn’t know. None of them knew.

And so, she stepped into the airlock—ready to be thrown into space. Ready to fly into the core of a supermassive blue sun and become a freak, even to her own race.

Her parents stood outside the airlock. Her father, worried; her mother, bored.

“Airlock opening in 5, 4, 3…”

The AI Perseus counted down while Aziel decided to speak.

“Ana, whatever happens, you will be okay. Pain is temporary. I love you.”

Staz-Zar only stared back.

And then she was thrown into the vacuum of space.

⸻

She couldn’t breathe. Life needed oxygen, and she had none. She panicked, gasping for air that wasn’t there. The radiation of the blue sun was already changing her body. Staz-Zar could feel her lungs gasp for air, as if she were drowning. Yet she wasn’t passing out, she wasn’t dying—even if it felt like she was.

And she decided space was the worst fucking thing ever.

Still struggling to breathe in nothingness, she flew, reaching her hands out toward the star. She had flown before on Earth during her yearly visits. It was vital she knew her own strength.

Even she was not immune to burning, she found out. The sun’s radiation was pouring into her as she continued to make her way toward the star. Its heat bounced off in waves. Staz-Zar felt as though she was dying. And she was. Her body was burning up from the heat of the sun and begging for air. Yet it continued.

She was burning alive and suffocating, and she could feel it all.

And that sun—the one giving her powers, making her invincible—was healing her while she was dying.

Staz-Zar felt the power and pain rush through her. She felt herself flying faster and faster until, finally, she made contact with the star’s surface. She flew right into the center, desperate to make this stop.

And at its core, she remained until the star died.

She could smell it. Her flesh burning. She could feel it. Every time she would burn, she would heal almost instantaneously. It was a never-ending cycle. The suffocating had stopped, though, and for that, she was grateful.

Eventually, her brain shut down, and she passed out. The pain too much. But the radiation kept her alive—more powerful than anyone could ever imagine. And so, she slept, dreaming of a life with no burden and a mother who loved her.

—————————

2 weeks later. Core of a Supermassive Blue Sun

It started with the sun dimming. Its flares slowing. Aziel and Preval had been there for two weeks, waiting for the sun to die—and for their daughter to live.

Eventually, the sun began to collapse into itself, its corpse grey and no longer the vibrant blue it once was.

“It’s going to form into a black hole,” Aziel murmured, his gaze fixed on the dying star.

“She will survive, Aziel. If she doesn’t, then maybe we were wrong about the prophecy,” Preval replied coldly, though there was no doubt in her voice.

And so they watched as the sun continued to collapse into itself. For a moment, as it finally ceased to exist, Staz-Zar remained in the middle—sleeping, floating.

Then, a wave of cosmic energy exploded from within their daughter. The supermassive sun turned into a supermassive black hole, with Staz-Zar at the epicenter.

Staz-Zar had awoken once the cosmic energy had exploded. Confused and scared, she felt an overwhelming pull. Slowly, she looked behind her—a supermassive black hole forming in the space where the sun had once been.

All she felt was pure fear. She might have been supposed to be all-powerful, invincible, but nature had its ways. Black holes were nothing but destructive. She knew that.

She flew as fast as she could, not letting the gravity pull her in. Other stars in the system were already being sucked in. Yet, she escaped so easily?

She made her way back into the airlock, breathing once more. Then—she threw up onto the cold white floor, clutching her chest and hunched over. Panic surged through her veins. She shouldn’t be alive. Nothing should have survived that.

The door opened with a click, and her father and mother stood before her. She looked up, standing properly, hoping that maybe her torment was over. No twelve-year-old should have gone through what she had.

“You’re strong now, Ana. No one will be able to hurt you,” Aziel said, his eyes shining with pride. His daughter would never know pain again.

Staz-Zar looked at him once more, her eyes devoid of emotion. Maybe, if she stopped caring, it would hurt less. So she stopped caring.

Her mother’s voice rang out next, smooth and cruel.

“Go to your room and clean up. We will talk after. You smell of burning flesh.”

At that, Staz-Zar walked away. She moved down the long halls of the ship, the white, pristine, almost clinical interior surrounding her. Then, without warning, she decided to run. She jogged—or what she thought was jogging—and made it to her room instantaneously.

Keeping up her pace, she made her way to the shower. She turned it to cold. Staz-Zar couldn’t stomach the idea of hot water in that moment. And finally, she let herself cry. She sobbed for all her normality that was gone. Not even among her own people could she ever be normal. Not that she ever had been, as royalty, but at least then she wasn’t a freak.

After finishing her shower and changing into casual, comfy clothes—a thick navy blue quarter-zip and white cargo sweatpants—she allowed herself to sit down on her bed in the ship. For a moment, she relaxed. “It’s done now,” she thought. And it was.

————-

Staz-Zar didn’t quite understand what the blue star was meant to do.

She understood it would make her completely invincible—completely invulnerable to all types of attacks, mental and physical. But she also didn’t understand the need to completely absorb an entire star. She needed to understand.

She got up from the bed, determined to find answers. She would understand what all that pain was for. She would understand why the smell of her own burnt flesh was seared into her soul. Why she was afraid every breath she took would never be enough to satiate her need for oxygen. Why she had become so afraid of suffocating.

Staz-Zar walked out of her room, finding her mother and father plotting course at the control deck back to Krypton. She stood there, silently observing, waiting for them to notice.

They noticed. But her father felt guilty, and her mother felt busy.

And so she stood. Arms crossed. Waiting.

Finally, her mother spoke with a sigh.

“What is it?”

Staz-Zar perked up.

“Why did I need to absorb an entire star?”

She asked quickly, scared that if she drew on too long, her mother would get annoyed and refuse to answer.

“Because absorbing the entirety of the blue sun until it died will give you the effects of its power for the rest of eternity.”

Her mother spoke as if Staz-Zar, her 12-year-old daughter, should have already put this together.

“For eternity? How is that possible? Won’t I use all of it up?”

Preval rolled her eyes, exasperated by her daughter’s stupidity. (She wasn’t stupid, in fact, she was incredibly intelligent, but her mother was an asshole.)

“You absorbed its complete being. It lives inside of you now. The blue sun is a part of you; it will never run out.”

“So I’ll be like this forever then? Won’t I emit radiation? Can’t that kill humans?”

Preval rolled her eyes again before speaking cruelly.

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out when you reach Earth, child.”

With that, her mother left, retreating to her quarters.

Aziel made his way to his daughter, placing his hands gently on her shoulders.

“No, you won’t kill any humans with the power of the sun inside you. The blue sun’s radiation is harmless to humanity. We’re the only race it affects.”

Staz-Zar nodded at this and quietly walked back to her room. “At least no one would be harmed by this decision… Except for myself” she thought as she got into bed and fell asleep for the rest of the journey home.

⸻

[maximoffthereal]

The Infinty’s Heir

In which Anastasia Fury balances the weight of the multiverse on her shoulders and the meaning of love in her heart.

Rated: M (we’ll get there eventually)

Part One Part Two Part Three

Ao3 link

This will be a series i’ll try and update asap enjoy!

Introduction

Anastasia Fury never asked to be fundamental to the universe—

to its nature, to its survival.

She never asked for her powers.

She never asked to be adopted by the director of a secret government agency at the age of twelve.

But she had a destiny quite literally written in the stars—in the very atoms that composed every living and non-living being.

She had a responsibility. She was necessary.

She was the very definition of power: silent, unbridled, yet loud and vibrant.

She never asked.

[maximoffthereal]

Hey guys i’m #brandnew to writing so i hope to god i can do some do my ideas and possibly yours justice��

I also post on ao3 under the same name so check it out!!

The Infinity's Heir Masterlist

DISCLAIMER!! Absolutely no use of ai i just love using the em dash lets reclaim it from chatgbt pleaseee for the love of god